Sometimes I Pass by Refik Martinovic

Sometimes I pass

Don’t forget dear
she is our spring
and days
when we went to the square
where they come from
people and birds
which caressed our palms
when we gave them away
crumbs of love
to love us more
and when they are together with me
guard your dreams
while you swayed
on the wings of excitement
under which I hid kisses for you
fearing your awakenings.
I will always remember
those days
and spring
when I was waiting for you
in the shadows of the white acacia
at the tram station
where everyone
they are waiting for someone
and chart their steps
the longings of May smells
and drops of rainfall
while the behar smells
and green week
in which we are
held hands
crawls along its path.
Don’t forget my love
spring and days
about which I do not like
write worn-out poems
and worn verses
because everyone is talking
to love
gives birth in the spring
and ours was then lost
and never did
will not return
nor evenings of silence
by the green river
whose shadows grow in silence
and collect stories
about our past.
And now
sometimes, I pass by there
and with the memory, I embrace
the same square of birds
on which they still come
birds and people
and a bench in the shade of acacia trees
where someone is waiting for someone
even though our springs are gone
which wrinkled the years
tired of dreams
and life
in passing
towards oblivion.

Copyright@Refik Martinović, Prof.