Herhidenvoice - Hello Poetry

U noći čujem vjetar što njiše grane, mrsi kosu, povija sjenke da plešu svoju tihu igru. Uzvici moji utihnuli su na tren, kao da sam daleka i od sebe i od svijeta. U srcu tame rađa se spokoj, nježan i tih, kao da me nebo u svom beskraju uzima pod okrilje.

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Sep 12, 2025

Sep 12, 2025 at 10:33 AM UTC

Melodija noći

U noći čujem vjetar što njiše grane, mrsi kosu, povija sjenke da plešu svoju tihu igru. Uzvici moji utihnuli su na tren, kao da sam daleka i od sebe i od svijeta. U srcu tame rađa se spokoj, nježan i tih, kao da me nebo u svom beskraju uzima pod okrilje.

16

My faithful companion, My insomnia, In the deep of night While I sleep a fragile, restless dream, The sound of engines cuts across the highway Drills a dark well into my ears, Forcing itself into my head Like a worm inside a red, flawless apple. Noise, the scarecrow of summer nights. And my insomnia, My silent shadow, My friend of unrest O, summer nights, you are too much for my delicate world! The roaring old motorcycle, The car with a broken muffler! Loud music from a car, Screeching tires, Laughter echoing in the distance, Dogs barking. Oh, lively and restless warm nights! Sounds follow one after another, Like ants on a pool of juice I keep quiet in the silence, With a muffled scream. And yet another summer night stretches painfully, Strutting foolishly over the darkness Of a sweltering city.

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Sep 11, 2025

Sep 11, 2025 at 11:13 AM UTC

Summer Night City

My faithful companion, My insomnia, In the deep of night While I sleep a fragile, restless dream, The sound of engines cuts across the highway Drills a dark well into my ears, Forcing itself into my head Like a worm inside a red, flawless apple. Noise, the scarecrow of summer nights. And my insomnia, My silent shadow, My friend of unrest O, summer nights, you are too much for my delicate world! The roaring old motorcycle, The car with a broken muffler! Loud music from a car, Screeching tires, Laughter echoing in the distance, Dogs barking. Oh, lively and restless warm nights! Sounds follow one after another, Like ants on a pool of juice I keep quiet in the silence, With a muffled scream. And yet another summer night stretches painfully, Strutting foolishly over the darkness Of a sweltering city.

27

Now that they are written, each fragment in its place, the weight I carried for so long has slipped away. Words, mirrors of the soul, linger on this page, pressed like a seal, marking the moment, pouring out hope and faith. Words, woven like a spider’s web in the darkness of my heart, stir and tremble, whisper like a restless stream, fully alive, waiting for their keeper to release them, to weave a quiet longing, like a painting on the wall— a fleeting touch of comfort.

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Aug 9, 2025

Aug 9, 2025 at 12:04 AM UTC

Words

Now that they are written, each fragment in its place, the weight I carried for so long has slipped away. Words, mirrors of the soul, linger on this page, pressed like a seal, marking the moment, pouring out hope and faith. Words, woven like a spider’s web in the darkness of my heart, stir and tremble, whisper like a restless stream, fully alive, waiting for their keeper to release them, to weave a quiet longing, like a painting on the wall— a fleeting touch of comfort.

19

Green grass, the scent and colors of wildflowers, and on the face, a smile that remembers springtimes while the sun gently caresses them and bathes them in its warmth. White daisies dance proudly in the breeze as if to say: we are happy just as we are, and need nothing more. Summer’s heat weaves its fingers and adds a shade of yellow to the canvas of beautiful plants, excessive and merciless, while they beg for the last drops of rain. Something has grown quiet. Looking at those once-lovely blades of grass I now see an invisible thread that binds us in the whirlpool of memories. At times, a weary smile appears, accompanied by restless longing.

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Aug 8, 2025

Aug 8, 2025 at 11:58 PM UTC

A Distant Joy

Green grass, the scent and colors of wildflowers, and on the face, a smile that remembers springtimes while the sun gently caresses them and bathes them in its warmth. White daisies dance proudly in the breeze as if to say: we are happy just as we are, and need nothing more. Summer’s heat weaves its fingers and adds a shade of yellow to the canvas of beautiful plants, excessive and merciless, while they beg for the last drops of rain. Something has grown quiet. Looking at those once-lovely blades of grass I now see an invisible thread that binds us in the whirlpool of memories. At times, a weary smile appears, accompanied by restless longing.

22

In the night I hear the wind swaying the branches, tangling my hair, bending the shadows to dance their quiet dance. My cries fall silent for a moment, as if I am far away from myself and from the world. In the heart of darkness a gentle calm is born, soft and still, as if the sky in all its endlessness is taking me under its wing.

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Aug 8, 2025

Aug 8, 2025 at 11:32 PM UTC

Melody of the Night

In the night I hear the wind swaying the branches, tangling my hair, bending the shadows to dance their quiet dance. My cries fall silent for a moment, as if I am far away from myself and from the world. In the heart of darkness a gentle calm is born, soft and still, as if the sky in all its endlessness is taking me under its wing.

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