{"product_id":"2940014589833","title":"The Creator","description":"Poetry in translation. Translated from the Serbian.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Deceived Devil\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNo sound, no light\u003cbr\u003eThe world beyond existence\u003cbr\u003eDead time\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNo evil, no good\u003cbr\u003eEverything sleeps\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA deceived devil languishes\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Light-Bearer\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI\u003cbr\u003eBy turmoil into the darkness\u003cbr\u003eBy a blazing cry\u003cbr\u003eBy storm and conquest\u003cbr\u003eThe Creator\u003cbr\u003eThe Pantokrator\u003cbr\u003eThe World-Maker\u003cbr\u003eThe Light-Bearer\u003cbr\u003eThe Demiurge\u003cbr\u003eThe Conquistador\u003cbr\u003eThe Lover\u003cbr\u003eOf the emptiness he fills out\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eII\u003cbr\u003eThere is nothing to move before him\u003cbr\u003eAs there was nothing before him\u003cbr\u003eNoble conquest\u003cbr\u003eFire and growth\u003cbr\u003eToward his self through emptiness he flies\u003cbr\u003eEmptiness hovers in him\u003cbr\u003eHe eats her\u003cbr\u003eShe eats him\u003cbr\u003eThe most beautiful face that no one ever saw\u003cbr\u003eToo big to be seen\u003cbr\u003eHis hand touched everything\u003cbr\u003eHis eyes watched from everywhere\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIII\u003cbr\u003eWhat is the secret\u003cbr\u003eWhat deceit, what shadow\u003cbr\u003eWhat is our delusion about him\u003cbr\u003eWe are so little with a big desire\u003cbr\u003eStill piercingly glimpse\u003cbr\u003eWe see the surroundings\u003cbr\u003eBut don’t see below\u003cbr\u003eWe are the fire, the desire\u003cbr\u003eRational nerve of matter\u003cbr\u003eWhat shape and sound are looked for in us\u003cbr\u003eWhat so we look for in them?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIV\u003cbr\u003eThe world sleeps, wakes up,\u003cbr\u003eThe world hurries, warms up, cools down;\u003cbr\u003eThe world is a navy in an empty ocean.\u003cbr\u003eWe are castaways or sailors\u003cbr\u003eWe look at the outside\u003cbr\u003eWe look at the sea\u003cbr\u003eNot knowing we are divers\u003cbr\u003eWe game, remembrance, fragrance\u003cbr\u003eWe spring, bloom \u003cbr\u003eWe see growth, beauty, torment\u003cbr\u003eWe decay, reach old age, darkness\u003cbr\u003eWe are ice in the end\u003cbr\u003eIce to ice\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDragon\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrom nothing he comes alone,\u003cbr\u003eFire and sound he is,\u003cbr\u003ePassionate and beautiful\u003cbr\u003eAssimilates into two worlds\u003cbr\u003eTwo armies he leads\u003cbr\u003eEnchanting\u003cbr\u003eWith smiles he deceives,\u003cbr\u003eGlares and invites\u003cbr\u003eWith fire, when he awakes.\u003cbr\u003eHis face,\u003cbr\u003eInvisible because of greatness, might,\u003cbr\u003eInto a shape he transforms and divides\u003cbr\u003eBy invisible light that connects and\u003cbr\u003eShapes his nervous system.\u003cbr\u003eHe nourishes with his bloodstream,\u003cbr\u003eSpreading his breath\u003cbr\u003eForceful and passionate he breaks.\u003cbr\u003eHe is the fire.\u003cbr\u003eI am the fire,\u003cbr\u003eTo his own self he says\u003cbr\u003eFire only listens to fire,\u003cbr\u003eFire is the source of shape\u003cbr\u003eI am the source of fire, but\u003cbr\u003eHe thunders, flares, breaks\u003cbr\u003eHis fire will not end\u003cbr\u003eWhen it ends\u003cbr\u003eFrom ashes he rises again\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003eWhispering Targets\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYou know good,\u003cbr\u003eYou know good is not always good.\u003cbr\u003eYou show both faces\u003cbr\u003eAnd hide them at the same time\u003cbr\u003eOne with one \u003cbr\u003eWith your target you make the one\u003cbr\u003eYour target is your other pole\u003cbr\u003eYour target, the Devil’s intent\u003cbr\u003eBorn from desire and\u003cbr\u003eFormidable\u003cbr\u003eYet too benevolent, immobile\u003cbr\u003eIf without a target.\u003cbr\u003eThe biggest good sleeps\u003cbr\u003eAwakened by fire and the fiery blast\u003cbr\u003eTempest and bustle.\u003cbr\u003eTarget gives birth to light,\u003cbr\u003eTarget toward which you direct your light;\u003cbr\u003eEvery birth is painful;\u003cbr\u003eThe target almost unconquerable.\u003cbr\u003eWhat feeds fire?\u003cbr\u003eUprising mass\u003cbr\u003eSpins and hovers in space;\u003cbr\u003eA dreadful law it hides.\u003cbr\u003eThrough whispers you maintain\u003cbr\u003eYour wide expanded self\u003cbr\u003eVoracious\u003cbr\u003eRuttish\u003cbr\u003eVibrant toward the target\u003cbr\u003eYou temper yourself\u003cbr\u003eWhisper to yourself\u003cbr\u003eRun away\u003cbr\u003eYou know how huge you are\u003cbr\u003eWhat kind of force and law,\u003cbr\u003eLowness and grandeur, a majesty\u003cbr\u003eDo shine from you.\u003cbr\u003eWhispering yet, you soften\u003cbr\u003eA faraway way\u003cbr\u003eAnd the target starts to whisper \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFlight\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere is nobody to hear you.\u003cbr\u003eIs the journey more important than the destination\u003cbr\u003eThe Ocean or the Shore\u003cbr\u003eAwait you\u003cbr\u003eConfuse you, observe.\u003cbr\u003eYou—the Ocean\u003cbr\u003eYou—the Shore\u003cbr\u003eBefore the darkness\u003cbr\u003eYou fill the emptiness with your voice\u003cbr\u003eEchoes wait on the way;\u003cbr\u003eIf they are stronger\u003cbr\u003eJourney becomes easier.\u003cbr\u003eLetters are guides, swooping birds\u003cbr\u003eGuiding you with glimmers.\u003cbr\u003eYou are your own teacher.\u003cbr\u003eMoving closer by intuition;\u003cbr\u003eIt has been long since you sailed\u003cbr\u003eBut still in the beginning;\u003cbr\u003eYou uttered countless letters\u003cbr\u003eYou talked.\u003cbr\u003eEvery sound—a new bird.\u003cbr\u003eBirds grow with space;\u003cbr\u003eYou follow their chirping;\u003cbr\u003eThey fly with full force\u003cbr\u003eFaithfully waiting for you.\u003cbr\u003eYou send them ahead\u003cbr\u003eSo behind is always ahead\u003cbr\u003eYou are closing the circle\u003cbr\u003eContinuing the spiral\u003cbr\u003eLetters compete in a race,\u003cbr\u003eThey wave to you;\u003cbr\u003eYour dream is their truth;\u003cbr\u003eWithout your dream there would be no letters\u003cbr\u003eThere would be no harbor, no shore\u003cbr\u003eOr a true flight\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Devil and God\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFire and chaos\u003cbr\u003eFree will and truth\u003cbr\u003eContact, the touch you bestow\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBreak through and ascend\u003cbr\u003eWith masculine power\u003cbr\u003eYou overpower, conquer yourself\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFlight and fall\u003cbr\u003eDevil and God\u003cbr\u003eTwo sides of the same face","brand":"New Avenue Books","offers":[{"title":"Default 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