SEDINA BRKIĆ

 

I’m Nowhere To Be Found

I'm nowhere to be found.

They killed me a long time ago.

I was young when the hand was cruel

burnt down my house, destroyed the hearth.

I've been bleeding all over the world for years

and I don't remember exactly when and where I fell.

That was the first time they killed me.

The second time I was killed by the rulers. 

Heartless and proud.

Both state, world, and religious.

With his lies and hypocrisy.

A direct shot to the mind.

Millions of my sisters and brothers

with a cheerful, pure soul

they died with me.

They killed us all in turn!

I'm nowhere to be found.

Some say that I am in the company of poets, weirdos.

As we wander through the verse lost,

driven by crazy imagination.

And others, again, 

who trample on other people's lives,

the third time they killed me,

in torment and great suffering,

when I saw children being killed.

They killed me the most painfully.

They say, 

that they saw me with my beloved, 

far away somewhere.

They saw us, they say, cheerful and happy.

And the unfaithful hands of my dear

they killed me for the fourth time.

It digs from the heart of the poor

and the last straw of trust.

I'm nowhere to be found.

They say, 

and that they saw my body

as he wanders the slopes of the mountains

and treads the clear forest streams barefoot.

And he is no longer surprised by man's miracles.

And he never cries. Nor sings.

Nor does he greet people anymore.

I'm nowhere to be found.

God alone knows where I am 

since I gave myself to Him.

I stopped being afraid.

I stopped counting my deaths.

Only my defiant love remained

thirsty to feed and defend against unrest.

Don't look for me, children, survivors,

I leave you only my songs,

because I'm nowhere anymore 

in this fake world.

Stepping

Between the day I was born and died

dashed line,

made by the feet 

Of barefoot girls.

Dress with floral pattern

and button fastening at the neck 

they do not give off pain 

to the hungry eyes of the world.

Staring at the divine beauty

the soul grew

and flows to its source in heaven.

Sometimes it comes out 

scattered flocks of words  

and through song

souls fly away 

which are not afraid 

walking through the menagerie.

Do You Know?

Do you know how birds are made? 

in my bosom

and I made their nest 

of woven verses

Do you know the path 

with which I step 

they have no shortcuts

nor paved paths

because they lead to heaven.

Do you know that one place in the universe 

count the beats of life

and awaits the return of my soul?

Do you know that I'm just nothing  

in this torn skin

and when I go 

I will be everything again.

SEDINA BRKIĆ

SEDINA BRKIĆ was born in Sarajevo in 1974. She writes poems, stories and aphorisms. Represented in various anthologies, magazines and on many web portals. She is the author of three collections of poems: "I dreamed of Bosnia, mother" (Split, 2002), "Between Good and Evil" (Split, 2002) and "Watching between Raindrops" (Slavonski Brod, 2019) and the satirical collection "Why did you need evolution, you monkey?!” (Lead, 2024) She likes working with children and young people. She works as a teacher in Olovo.