Just there where a rep­tile and an eagle crossed their paths

Retain­ing loy­al­ty both to base­ness and pride

A new class will be born. Not to think of people

Is not a course nowa­days: it is a beau­ti­ful day devoid of night

Where dark­ness does not enter not even for the sex of opposites.

Dark shad­ows and stains are yet vis­i­ble in it

Resem­bling the traces of body upon which the day resides 

Even when con­tact with the spir­i­tu­al has already been established.

 

An ostrich wakes before dawn to learn the name of the ghost

Giv­en to him through let­ters. He does not con­tem­plate thirst

For he is not able to think.He does not even think of hunger

As he can­not even do that. He is the pri­mor­dial beast

Eager to read with his body, eager to write with his body,

Eager to be post­mod­ern. He is a brat of despair—

How is he going to become a professor ? —

For he con­tains some­thing deep within,

Already agreed upon by the rep­tile and the eagle.

 

This is this new class,our con­tem­po­rary read­er who,

By  the nature of things, also hides an author within.

He just approach­es recep­tion, whis­pers his num­ber and his name.

Than he enters eter­ni­ty which is his true domain.

 

Trans­lat­ed from Ser­bian by Nina Živančević
 

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