I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness for it shows me the stars. — Og Mandino

po_Ujevic-TinAugustin “Tin” Ujević (July 5, 1891 – November 12, 1955) was a Croatian poet. 

Ujević distinguished himself in three fields: as a translator, essayist and poet. He wrote more than ten books of essays, poetry in prose and meditations.

 

 

FRAILTY
Tin Ujević

In this mist, in this rain –
oh drunken heart, don’t drown in pain.

Love unrequited gave no rest,
so now you yearn for earth’s breast,

and all your longing, cry of a slave,
is to find some quiet grave:

Here my soul will soon expire
and here will wither my desire

on the waves of our blue, blue sea
and white, white pebbles cover me,

and my needs will all come home
under blessed heaven’s dome,

with sun, calm blue, and clarity,
beneath the ground that once bore me.

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THE NECKLACE
Tin Ujević

Blessed morning, you cascade
roaring lightfalls in this room.
How can pain make me afraid,
dead already, in my tomb?

Well, perhaps you can ignite
buried sparks from ash and dust
since the lilac and the light
still swell longing in your breast.

When I lift your veil, you show
lines of quiet, forms of grace
in shelves of books, row on row –
then the whole room’s careworn face.

Yet, there’s something still I miss
from this crib without a cross,
a smile on darling lips, the kiss
of flowers in a waterglass.

Blessed morning, while you dress
this room in your translucent robe,
I have no fear of death’s caress.
Only give love back to this Job.

Blessed morning, you cascade
roaring lightfalls in this room.
How can pain make me afraid,
dead already, in my tomb?

Well, perhaps you can ignite
buried sparks from ash and dust
since the lilac and the light
still swell longing in your breast.

When I lift your veil, you show
lines of quiet, forms of grace
in shelves of books, row on row –
then the whole room’s careworn face.

Yet, there’s something still I miss
from this crib without a cross,
a smile on darling lips, the kiss
of flowers in a waterglass.

Blessed morning, while you dress
this room in your translucent robe,
I have no fear of death’s caress.
Only give love back to this Job.