Inspirational moods

Our secret

Posted on: May 1, 2011



I won’t be telling people about you.
I won’t tell them whether you were just
an acquaintance of mine, or a dear friend;
nor what kind, nor whether at all
in our dreams and longings
these days left a trace.

I won’t tell them whether out of loneliness,
thirst, tiredness, nor whether ever
any of us loved the other;
nor whether our heart
over us
or over others
sometimes ached.

I won’t tell them about the harmony
that often joined our eyes
into a yearning constellation;
nor whether I or you were willing
for it to happen –
or it was all the same to us.

I won’t tell them whether life
or fear of death
brought our hands together;
nor whether we preferred
the sound of laughter to
murmur of tears.

I won’t even sound a single syllable,
what could’ve, nor whether something could’ve
entangled and united
our souls throughout the entire century;
nor whether this that came about
is a poison or cure
for what used to be.

I won’t tell a soul about
the song that’s, because of you,
eternally playing inside me:
whether it heartily intoxicates
like our forests in the Spring;
or, quiet and sad
it’s eloquently silent within me.
Oh, I won’t tell a soul
whether a merry or a hurting
song is playing inside me.

I’d prefer her and me to
leave unspoken
to the place where with the same light
dawn and night and day shine;
where both happiness and excruciating pain
are equally warm;
where both man and his dream
are made of the same eternal tissue.


D.  Maksimovic

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2 Responses to "Our secret"

a interesting poem i enjoyed it.

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