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Nikolina Todorović, Poetry

There, Where My Childhood Had Remained/Ended

In the moment when I came to know my otherness,
I ceased to be a child.

I shed my innocent understanding
Of a butterfly’s life,
There where it dies by the night lamp.
And that of a forest snake,
There where it sheds its existence, in shadow,
Far from the eyes of the public.

Wrong Diagnosis

Waking up, day after day,
We fight
He and I.

We fight silent battles
And keep the outcomes to ourselves

We fight a little
We make up a little.

Sometimes he goes on a vacation
And he’s gone, gone, gone…
And sometimes, he comes back quickly, unannounced.

Waking up, day after day
That little monster
Is making my life shit

I am preparing to murder him,
And mister
Morbus Chron
Said to that:

We are dying together!


I dream of people
With eyes full of terror.
Of screams in the crowd.
Of bloody walls.
I dream of people
With scabby faces
Along long corridors
Tripping over each other.

The quarantine is growing crowded,
And death is drawing closer
She wants to touch me
She wants to infect me
She won’t let me wake up.

Death is coming for me
In my dreams.

She has a pretty name
And wishes to give me a kiss:

Variola Vera.

Ireland Awakens

Ireland awakens,
Eternally cast in
Cliff stone

Eternally green fields
Stretching as far
As the eye can see

All along the Kilrelig coast
Wind blows from the high seas
Playing music
Which brings to life
The old stone houses
And narrow pathways that were long ago
Abandoned and deleted from maps.

Ireland awakens,
To its ancient history,
To its songs,
To the people in whose hearts
It has always stayed.

There is no life here for
Ordinary people,
There is no life here for those
Whose body and soul
Is not filled with love for this country

Ireland awakens,
Its roots endless,
Its history ancient,
And loves its people
As a mother loves her children
Born along its shores or in faraway lands

There is no life here for those
Who do not see
The bones of their ancestors
The temples of deities they betrayed and forgot,
The Ogham alphabet inscribed in stone,
Poetry in every pebble, plant, air, fire and water

Ireland awakens
And reveals its most remarkable nature to those
Who listen to the whispers of the trees
That once walked
And defended its country
Until the last drop of resin

There is no life here
Without Celtic heroes
And Celtic mythical creatures
That spring from all Irish waters
And still dance
In its rain-soaked forests, and barren, stone-filled fields

Ireland awakens
And you forgot the Gaelic language,
And you forgot who you are,
And you forgot everything.

You shall not sleep peacefully
Until you hear the sound of the harp
In the midst of grass fields
Across the emerald lakes
The sound carried over the high cliffs
Across all the seas
Across all existence

Ireland awakens
In me

Músclaionn Éirinn

Músclaíonn Éirinn – Go sioraí. Faoiurcharnahaillefolláin
Áilleachtnaháite; gleanntagleoite. Glas. Chomhfádaagus is féidir leis antsúil a fheiceáil.

In éadannagaoithe. Radharcnafarraigemóire. Shiúlmé i dtreo Ciall Rialaigh.
Ceolbinn a thugannbeocht do chreachadhansheantí.
Anbealachbuailte. Imithearshlínafírinne.

MúsclaíonnÉirinn. MuintirnahÉireann. Muintirantseansaoil. Géag de sheanfhreámh.
Anchoismhuintir – An Tírghráionainn.

Is gairdárgcairtaransaolseo. Nífada a mhaireanncuimhnear a leithéid.
Dodhearmadtana Déithebréige.
An aibítir Ogham. I seanthraidisiúngiúdeach.
Tá an fhilíocht mar chéileaici. An Spéirbheanálainn.

Músclaíonn Éirinn. Nochtfar an fhírinneláéigin. Nílceilt a dathann.
Laochra Gael.
Éirinn go brách.
Is mar gheallarseo a thróidsiad.

Gachsraidaguspáirc.Tharcnocagus glean satalamhneamhthorthúil.

Areagla go ndeánfaimisdearmad.
Ach éist leis angceolEaglaise.
Táantírseofósbeo. Lán le bríagusfuinneamh.

Tá Éirinnbeoionam,
Go deonandeor.

Nikolina Todorović, Born in 1995 in Sarajevo. Student of Comparative literature master studies in Sarajevo. Graduated in 2018 with her Bachelor thesis “The Grotesque in Gogol’s Novel Dead Souls and play The Government Inspector”. Graduated from the Music high school in Sarajevo and therefore acquired the vocation of General Course Musician. One of her occupations are solo singing and performing various musical genres. She writes poetry, prose and essays. She published her work in all the more notable regional websites and journals. Furthermore, her poetry was incorporated in a few collaborative poetry collections of young authors and authoresses. She is currently occupied with the research for her Master’s thesis “Memory and Photography in Literature”


There, Where My Childhood Had Remained/Ended, Wrong diagnosis, Nightmare translated by Filip Čolović

Translator Filip Čolović (1995) – born in Belgrade, he is currently finishing his undergraduate studies at the Faculty of Philology of the University of Belgrade (English Department). At the moment, he works as a content writer and translator. Appreciates the avant-garde and all forms of quality art and fiction.

LinkedIn Filip Čolović

Ireland Awakens – Translated by Varga Zsolt

Músclaionn Éirinn – Translated into Gaelic by Niamh Mercer.

You can read the original post HERE.

This article was published in March of 2019, within the Awakening topic.

Read the other texts published in the Poetry section.

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