ZORAN RADOSAVLJEVIĆ
On The Eve Of
Eid Night
They say that
night
has some strange
power ...
I look at the sky
stars ride
and I see a
crescent
I thought he
would fulfill my wishes three ..
let my darling
come
all bad to pass
and may my mother
be well ...
On the eve of Eid
night ..
Blue and round
rolls are taken out
on various pies
the courtyards
will smell ..
Let the kadaifi
smell for you
and baklava and
let it be healthy
and merry Eid
days of glory
On the eve of Eid
night
usually a loved
one dreams
Nena Meka sabah
slaughter ..
Study the fatiha
quietly,
for the soul of
heavenly silence ..
And put it all in
one RAM ..
Happy Eid people
to you
With the first
ray of sunshine with Sabah call to prayer,
Eid is coming,
promised by the Qur’an.
On the wings of
the call to prayer
may Eid bring us
happiness every day
Put on a new suit
until the bell
rings at the gate ..
Until the
neighbor says sellam
here we are
waiting for Eid
And when Eid is
over
I have to do one
more thing
go to your
grandmother's grave ..
learn prayer
for a new job ...
I'll Always Be
There, Baby
I will wait for
you ..
Don't worry and
be afraid about it
At one point in
your life you are left
just to count the
scars ...
I give myself and
all my love to you ..
I have always
wondered how I succeed so strongly
to hug someone
who hasn't been here in a long time.
I don't allow
myself to despair
You are my world
Which fits in a
hug ..
I'm getting old
slowly,
Death is coming
soon ..
no matter what
you are always
what my day starts with ..
And you, honey,
when it's hard
And when you
tighten the sadness in your heart
Mine I love you
will be first
What will you
think before you go to bed ..
I sometimes
forget I'm alive,
so I get scared
when I think about it.
But I love you in
your sixties.
Wherever you
live,
At all those
weird addresses ..
Remember the
value of all my songs ..
The Man Is
Tired
One
can be calmed and illuminated by the very assumption that there is someone,
famous and pleasant, who follows and loves him, that someone, that person, it
is possible and real as a neon shadow .... it hit me like birds hit autumn ...
because I know that she wants and loves me as much as I love her .... Believe
me, it's hard to write the most beautiful love ballad..as Zoka loved.he loves
.and loves his Senada..as Senada loved every day..sighed and waited for her
Zoran .. And that her beloved Zoka, Senada's both eyes..as her beloved Zoka
sends her kisses from the West and the East..and while Zoka lives so dead..he
curses this gray life without her..When will she come and calm him down to make
her touch come true..And today it all hurts them..the truth..she is lost there
far away ,, who knows how to look into the human heart..they will feel those
vibrations of the soul..they will feel that beauty that the human eye cannot
see ... he will never be ashamed of such love ... not everyone sees and
hears..not everyone feels that magic.A man as he learns to fly often falls..and
in the end he did not learn to fly but learned how should fall ... he learned
in life to hope..Because we know where we are while the sky is burning with
colors..while we know the depth of feeling in the raindrops .. that flows down
our cheeks and body ... and we love each other even stronger even bolder..and
as long as you know that there is a hand waiting for our sleeping story to come
to life and for reality to become dreams ,, my thoughts start..I love the woman
in you who knows how to steal my dreams who can put a smile on my face. .Thank
you for the wonderful awakening in the scent of Lilac..The pain when he breaks
the most beautiful love he gives..for a moment he stops..the look falls down ..
dreams get confused and disappear.because after all all the pain will stop ...
ZORAN
RADOSAVLJEVIĆ
ZORAN RADOSAVLJEVIĆ was born in Trebinje on September 25,
1961. A child of a mixed marriage, from a Serb father and a Muslim mother. He
wrote from an early age, he did not publish everything until recently. He was
the editor of the newspaper Jedinstvo from Smed. publishes the first book
"Footprints" which he dedicates to her. He publishes a collection of
poems "Dreaming", and the novel "Stumbling about his own
life" After some time he publishes a collection painting ", with the
painter Nedjad Fazlinović. His last book is a poem dedicated to his great love
Senada" Trebinje still smells like her ". with the poem
"Trebinje still smells like her" ..
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