MARIJA NAJTHEFER POPOV

 

I Will Be Strong

 

We created a way of saying farewell

which will not be it,

even on the wings of the plane.

It is never written: departure.

Suitcases get picked up

from endless conveyors

but they come back.

They always come back.

We parted in panic,

already after our first meeting.

The more we parted

the more we got together.

I will leave while we float

in the overlap of boundaries

of all unexpected.

I will be strong,

stronger than both of us,

and leave all of me

in you, your heart,

your thought and your body.

We are going to part without farewell,

without parting,

disillusioned,

panicked,

on the border stepped over

which unsuspectedly

returns us to us…

marijanajtheferpopov@

 

How Will Morning Look Like

 

After that night

In which the lanterns of your soul

Will disappear

I wonder

Obsessed with the fear of scream

From the dark

Which will arise

With knowledge

In me

Everything will stop

In the landscapes of the mind

That is intoxicated by words

Like water that washes the remedy

Down the bloodstream

Who will dare

To announce to me the news

I know without a doubt

(I don’t need messengers

I will behead them)

At that moment, I will start

And try to figure it out

Where did it come from at once

This terrible cold

In every throb

The polar night will begin

The bird will not be at the window

The Danube will freeze

In my bed

On one ship

The sails will break

At the helm I will see

A screaming crow

I will understand

You are the messenger

I did not believe

The truth I cannot accept

So I forgave your life

In that non-acceptance

marijanajtheferpopov@

 

 

Down The Blue Streams

 

I feel like a river,

You come and spread my currents,

You are underme my decisions,

Rooted in sandy shores,

On which I write everything,

Not to forget,

Let me ask you where you are,

How are you?

Are you sleeping?

There is no fear of death

As we run, dive into each other,

Where our submarines are hiding,

Immersed in the core.

You are the tattoo pf my heart,

You will die after me,

I embalmed you the tar  of letters,

Which flows down my chamber

Secrets, I feel like myself,

You come and kill my intentions,

Every thought seeks you and you say,

I'm here,

Just read the signposts, on the printed skin

Let us go of the streams,

Immerse yourself in my abysses,

Before that, wash loose decisions.

See!

My arms are outstretched,

He was crucified on them,

Let the water of your mouth,

Spill on me like an inexhaustible waterfall,

In the middle of nowhere where is our home,

What words do we build to hide us,

When we escape down the blue streams,

All the reasons are not to give up ...

marijanajtheferpopov@

 

MARIJA NAJTHEFER POPOV