.
A bloodthirsty old woman you see,
a cockroach from Satan’s
“Crisis Committee”,
For long she pillaged,
children she snatched and slayed
their blood she drank and ate,
to rejuvenate.
She flayed their skin,
affixed in place on her own face,
Corona was her name,
The old hag was insane.

When her evil deeds were told,
the airplanes soared,
in aim to **** us all.
On Earth they made the poisons fall.

They had us all locked down,
with muzzles restrained,
padlocks and chains,
ankle bracelets for home detention,
false tests on prescription,
deceived and plundered,
blamed for infection,
medications proscribed,
fresh air they denied,
On our freedom they put boundaries,
halfwits, scoundrels.

And when they “eased up” on their “measures”,
the camps were full over the rim,
large - scale butchering,
looted livers and kidneys,
burning the living victims,
“to prevent the spread of infection”
evidence concealed for our own protection.

She had working hours,
sleeping before noon,
was contagious only in the afternoon.

Half the world she vaccinated,
with poisons injected,
what is going on,
you are going to see,
billions of dead bodies are yet to be!

Forget we must not,
Lest not forgive,
Let’s arrest and sentence them to death,
they should not be left to live!


.
Saša Milivojev

Translated by Ljubica Yentl Tinska


www.sasamilivojev.com
Copyright © by Saša Milivojev, 2020 - 2022 - All Rights Reserved

.
Snow. Ice. Bitterness.
Fear. Huger. Distress.

Darkness.

Hopelessness.
Without water and electricity.
Without liberty.

Nobody, just me,  
and a cold blanket
sighing sadly.
And nothing else.
Betrayals countless.
Without a friendly face.
Without an embrace.

Puddles of tears surround me,
I will cut my wrists to end this misery.

My frostbite wounds
Millions of people are passing by
never a one to stop
to offer a shoulder on which to cry

I don’t need anything
no cash, no bread
no shoes, no roof over my head
just a single heart to start beating
beating for me, crazily.



Saša Milivojev

Translated by Ljubica Yentl Tinska

www.sasamilivojev.com

.
Stranger to the audience.
Stranger in the community and the family.
A stranger to one’s own mother,
A shadow to one’s own shadow,
A foreigner in the country of one’s own,
in every land he has been in
In the town he was born in
Abandoned by hope
in every town worldwide
on every planet one could find.

A worldwise vagabond,
With disheartened face,
targeted by murderers and madman alike
Across distant deserts and seas
Windbourne with no goals or dreams.

Betrayed by everyone,
Abandoned tranquilly
“friends” fiends,
He has forgiven them,
Perished to the infinite
Never to be back again.

For noone will ache,
love or forgive,
man is a machine with nothing to give.

All life in one suitcase
unsettled, macabre
soaring across dreary universe
homeless, roofless,
with no dreams or aim,
weary of World’s pain.



Saša Milivojev

Translated by Ljubica Yentl Tinska

www.sasamilivojev.com