Ne ljubi manje koji mnogo ćuti
on mnogo traži, i on mnogo sluti,
i svoju ljubav (kao parče kruva
za gladne zube) on brižljivo čuva
za zvijezde u visini
za srca u daljini.
Ćutanje kaže: u tuđem svijetu
ja sanjam još o cvijetu i sonetu,
i o pitaru povrh trošne grede,
i o ljepoti naše svijetle bijede,
i u zar dana i u plavet noći
snim: ja ću doći, ja ću doći.
Star on High
He loves no less who does not waste his words,
but asks and cares too much, though seeming dumb,
and his whole scope of loving (like some crumb
of bread to feed to hungry teeth), he hoards,
preserving it to give some star on high –
his soul, his heart, his distant destiny.
His silence says: in this world’s alien loneliness,
flowers and poems occupy my dreams,
with plant-pots perched on seasoned wooden beams –
our poverty’s pure, simple lines of loveliness.
beneath the veil of day and night’s clean blue,
i’m dreaming: I shall come, I’ll come for you.
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