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Best Poems Written by Vesna Arsenich

Below are the all-time best Vesna Arsenich poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Thoughts of Two Dimensions

Thoughts of Two Dimensions

Yesterday, I loved your courtyards
bathed in moonlight's shadows and smiles,
smitten by wavering stars,
lanterns of my youth,
that are reflected as coins,
in the quiet waters of your fountains.
Those are my reminiscences 
arabesque creatures of an old chest,
sanctified by the lavender,
and left on the bottom of my wardrobe.

Today, I love your crowded streets,
pebbled alleyways that breathe
with aromas of kitchens,
shouts of children quarreling, 
and nagging of older women
behind those awnings and windows of life well known.

Tomorrow, I will love your hot paved squares
that open to the harbors and promising high seas
while cypresses will send regards to far away winds,
and seagulls will sing nostalgia cries 
of wandering merchants and sailors.

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The Old City

Walking on streets of the old city,
I eavesdrop upon voices of the past.
The worn out pavements of moss and stone
reverberate of glory, defeat, and pain.

Oh, Ancient walls of monumental towers!
Beauty of your prominence, and abundance 
of your memories can not deceive me
for I know every single rock
on which you are founded 
smells on blood, tears ,and putrid bones.

Leave your triumphs to ominous crows
that wait upon new pilgrimage of army leaders
who shout men's history in three words:
conquer, demolish, and pillage.

Listening how whirlwinds play
with autumn leaves on your square,
I am asking you... will roar of the armies stop?

Vesna Arsenich

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Cry

When stars die in the silence,
When lonely hearts are lost in the distance,
I need your hand,
I need your strength,
I need your mercy,
O Lord.

\When sadness prevail in my soul,
When stormy thoughts crash my heart,
I need your hand,
I need your solace, 
I need your persistence,
O Lord.

\When all love is lost without a trace,
When hopelessness kills a day,
I need your hand,
I need your beatitude,
I need your guidance,
O Lord.

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Dreams of Yellow Ashes

Dreams once hidden, now appeared,
dreams of an abandoned city,
distortions that mangled me
are my insolvable presentiments,
perhaps, they are just greetings
from hyenas in the night.

Oh, why I get them unbidden? 

It's streets glided into each other
like lifeless labyrinths,
exhausting continuation or
logic of a lost place?

It's houses only waited
as numb, deaf witnesses, 
while the sky was abundant of yellowish grey.
In the reality of anguish and trepidation,
yellow ashes were densely concentrated,
ghostly flux or enigma?

In the distance,
I heard tramps of a horse,
or is it another deception?
He is quiet,I am quiet,
 sound of lie or life!

I am now his only comrade,
for we wandered through yellow ashes alone,
for we understood our prehistoric calls,
in this microcosm we are only brothers!

 Odd set of eyes stared at me,
the most soulful eyes,I ever saw.
What are you trying to tell me,
when everything is already said?

Yellow fog frightened me,
bringing smell of Thanatos,
awaken conscience of executors in this Golgotha?

Executors and victims dance in yellow ashes
while conscience of the humankind
 is withheld on the Balkan soil.

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Exodus

October was dying, down of All Saints' Day,
yet we abandoned our dead,
and moved forward into wet snow wilderness.
Fallen city, burning ruins were our only candle
for howling winds, bare branches, pale moon,
and freezing stars made early death visitors.

All of anguish still waited.
It was slowly dying of our being,
like haunting animals we became, 
it was only once again history of lost souls,
it was hovering doubt in the sky,
and mightier than sells, inferno flakes,
silence that kills thereafter,
disguised Cain made us wonder.

It was lost and lonely, old women's able,
on crossing between abyss and mercy,
conceivably someone's grandmother,
or written off soul ready to die,
it was above all questioning heresy of trust, 
when forgiveness was our only gain.

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Truth?

The truth is uttered today,
like shadow followed me,
on moments rebelled,
penetrated and suffocated.

The truth,
apparition in the night,
in the silence, 
when the thoughts are the loudest
like reprimand or subconscious revelation.

The world chiseled it onto my palms,
so deep it was hidden
in promises of the brighter days.

Ratified, it became relief now
since I do not exist anymore.
The embodiment I am of its inventors,
they eradicated me long time ago.

No, my tears will not catch them.
The world encapsulated like deaf walls,
it did not expect nor receive
apparition-me.

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Simple Truth

Folks always say: 
"thousand people, thousand wonders". 
Confusing, simple truth is repeated, 
so why through thousand little pathways 
identical color runs, 
soul of the mankind, 
with the same umbilical connected 
to the Earth on which color screams? 

I might be a lonely star, 
my twinkling is not even seen, not desired, 
just wandering through backyards of life. 
Yet, my dreams are not only mine, 
for you and I extended our hands 
to shovel through mud of insights, 
to reach each other in ethereal distances, 
precariously, with no names, 
always striving for myths.

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Serenity

I seek morning freshness
to awake remembrance
of scented flowers of my childhood
when days were sweet and
time was not stolen 
in searching for forgotten wisdom.

If my soul fall asleep and
my world perishes, 
still will be scented flowers to
remind me of eternal beauty where
innocence flourished.

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Where My Soul Wanders?

I leave alone tonight,
drown by odd lamenting desire
to embrace sea cliff ,
a lonely child of the south,
only luna is my witness,
and some fluttering hope!

While I am drinking 
fluids of heavenly fondness,
I am grasping feeble dreams,
I am offering my hands,
restless soul endeavor 
to join undying stars! 

Stillness does not stifle me,
solitude does not impede upon me,
twilight nurtures my core!

Grounded by sultry air,
I am now on boundaries of earth and bliss.
Where my yearning, my soul wanders
when knows to belong 
neither of them?

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Letter To Yesenin

While moon over Konsantinovo wanders,
and meadows sleep in the silence,
your spirit still breaths, 
seeking new oases,
peasant valley couldn't offer you worldly aspirations!


Restless vagabond, 
you yearned for vision life couldn't give,
and flew through new dimensions so fast, too high,
giving vent to winds, you became stretched 
between the Earth and Heaven,
a waterfall that kissed ground too soon!

Alexandrovich Yesenin!
The stern October has deceived you,
so you searched your ideals in liquor,
and your soul in women, finally
easing and sharpening your pain in Isadora!

Oh, remember Sergey,
you are part of our collective dreams-
the very same meadows, blossoms of birches,
and innocence that scream for you now!

Didn't you know that world's call
couldn't give you peace?
It's stars are pale, artificial seducers
No warmth, just empty symbols with tart taste.

You were not their child,
your heart yearned again 
for tender birch woods,
your soul remembered silenced meadows,
fireplace that always waited for you,
and old hands that prayed 
you would come back!

And dear Sergey,
Why all that beauty didn't love itself?
Your piercing blue eyes,
light wavy hair and full, soft lips
went into my pain!