𝘛𝘩𝘦 ᒪIᑎGO ᒪE᙭IᑕOᑎ
An Online Literary Journal of Translations
POETRY
If You Only Knew
—POEM by Derviša Grabus Čolaković
(Tanslated from Bosnian)
To read all posts of Derviša Grabus Čolaković, please click here
If you only knew how hard it’s for me,
When I don’t see you only for one night,
Desolation takes hold of me; abodes in my soul,
Tell me then why couldn’t you come?
My pillow is wet with tears,
I get scared that I would lose you.
And you are just not recognized,
I know you love me, too.
If you only knew how I feel,
When you don’t call me,
When I don’t hear your voice,
Then everything around me becomes hushed,
Maybe it’s my fault; I judge myself.
I am entirely empty hearted and untenanted soul,
Everything around me seems to gloss.
I’m just waiting for you to give me your hand,
And nothing else comes to mind.
….
(Self-translation from BOSNIAN)
::::
Please visit the Face Book, Instagram, Twitter, Pinterest, and Linkedin to follow us on these social media networks — by clicking the relevant icon — to see (and to share with others by you) that how we are promoting and making efforts to give a worldwide reach to the best pieces of fiction and poetry, and other things like APPRAISE of the published elegant works in 𝘛𝘩𝘦 ᒪIᑎGO ᒪE᙭IᑕOᑎ and views of the legendries of various languages as THE LEGENDARY TALKS through interviews by the expert interviewers. We also welcome your (the contributors’) and the readers’ precious, prestigious and valuable comments in the Comments Section given at the bottom of this page.
POETRY
If You Only Knew
—POEM by Derviša Grabus Čolaković
(Tanslated from Bosnian)
To read all posts of Derviša Grabus Čolaković, please click here
If you only knew how hard it’s for me,
When I don’t see you only for one night,
Desolation takes hold of me; abodes in my soul,
Tell me then why couldn’t you come?
My pillow is wet with tears,
I get scared that I would lose you.
And you are just not recognized,
I know you love me, too.
If you only knew how I feel,
When you don’t call me,
When I don’t hear your voice,
Then everything around me becomes hushed,
Maybe it’s my fault; I judge myself.
I am entirely empty hearted and untenanted soul,
Everything around me seems to gloss.
I’m just waiting for you to give me your hand,
And nothing else comes to mind.
….
(Self-translation from BOSNIAN)
::::
Please visit the Face Book, Instagram, Twitter, Pinterest, and Linkedin to follow us on these social media networks — by clicking the relevant icon — to see (and to share with others by you) that how we are promoting and making efforts to give a worldwide reach to the best pieces of fiction and poetry, and other things like APPRAISE of the published elegant works in 𝘛𝘩𝘦 ᒪIᑎGO ᒪE᙭IᑕOᑎ and views of the legendries of various languages as THE LEGENDARY TALKS through interviews by the expert interviewers. We also welcome your (the contributors’) and the readers’ precious, prestigious and valuable comments in the Comments Section given at the bottom of this page.
