Djordje Balasevic
Miscellaneous
Upside Down Fairytale
In the basement, a tunnel to the heavens,
on the thin tread of morning a dark tapestry,
gloomy faces, alone with sins,
in the corridor with no return,
my bird got entangled in a black bush,
the flickering star Danica was carried away.
And a late breath while cooling the steel,
the scalpel slides down the thread of the rosary .
There is a plan for the angels to steal her,
or at least for an hour to bring her back among them,
because sometimes heaven makes a big ballad
and asks rhyme for the main verse.
A tender white legion rushes to the city,
January spreads its refined carpet,
in secret collusion the first snow and I,
to wait for winter her trail,
not worth the stories I know,
lies for sleepy eyes,
I make up a fairy tale, a strange upside-down
lullaby,
that from she stays awake.
There is a path that chooses the chosen ones,
a secret road always inclined to the best,
because sometimes the sky only plays black holes
and looks for a note for that tone.
Somewhere I'm a boy standing confused
on the bridge,
because he only has an inkling that you exist,
somewhere in you is waiting for a chained song
that no one alive knows yet ,
in you a chain rattles with secret links,
you will be a mother to mothers.
There is a plan for the angels to steal you,
or at least for an hour to and return between them,
because sometimes the sky makes a great ballad
and looks for a rhyme for the main verse.
There is a path that chooses the intended,
a secret road always inclined to the best,
because sometimes the sky only plays black holes
and looks for a note for that tone.

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