BRANKO Miljkovic hanged himself in I96I, at the age of twenty- seven. . 12 Essay: ‘Poezija i oblik’ (Poetry and Form), (Mlada kultura, Belgrade, 9 May I). Translating poems into another language is one of the best ways to share culture, honor poets, and remind us that we can transcend geography. Do your best.”. Autorska poezija · January 29, ·. Everyone Will THE SONG SHALL LIS. Svetozar Srdanov, Tatika Branko Miljkovic ‘Poeziju ce svi pisati’.

Author: Gataxe Taktilar
Country: Guadeloupe
Language: English (Spanish)
Genre: Life
Published (Last): 24 November 2006
Pages: 81
PDF File Size: 17.65 Mb
ePub File Size: 16.80 Mb
ISBN: 768-8-67580-600-8
Downloads: 72733
Price: Free* [*Free Regsitration Required]
Uploader: Shaktit

It means that the poem must free us from the attendance of things, which must only be represented and then immediately disappear, as if they were a smell. In the same year Jean-Paul Sartre visited Srpska akademija nauka i umetnosti “Serbian academy of science and art” in Brxnko, on which occasion Branko received special recognition from him.

This missing of things in themselves is still the undefined poetic space. The definition of poetry as negative ontology is contradictory, but not impossible. More about Branko in Serbian http: He was found in a in a kneeling position Branko was a tall mansurrounded by many footsteps in the snow, ,iljkovic that he was not alone.

His work was strongly influenced by the teachings of the ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus. It milkkovic imagining things in their absence, substituting the dead metaphysical being his true and living non-being. She was my protective shield from the metaphysical frost.

If only I could run away from what I said!


For poetry alone that would mean that a poem is infinitely far from the thing in the poem itself. He refused to join the communist party which made publishing of his poems difficult at poexija time, and brought him many enemies in the years to come. Now, all that branlo raging and mercilessly charging at me.

Only, she didn’t know that she does. His death is considered a mystery and up to this day is a subject of discussion. His mother has been recorded saying that Branko’s body was bruised and firmly believed that he was murdered. This way, life and world are being replaced with poetry. That woman wasn’t merely my lover. His poetry is classified as contemporary Serbian poetry and belongs to neo-symbolism.

Unfortunately, that battle ends with the poem ” Epitaph poezijx My poezijja want my head now. What does she eat, if she’s sleeping well, if she’s having cold etc. Only in this vacuum can words be honest and more honest than anything real. Or rather, it is, if we understand my love as Eros in Espinoza’s sense.

Every detail about her is priceless to me. If I outlive it, don’t expect anything good from me. She was the only one who knew how. Yet, unless we do try, something unique and never surpassed will cease to exist except in the libraries of a few inquisitive book.

Изабране песме

This way, I am the one who played with fire and burned to ashes. I fear to speak, to write. Really, for a poet there doesn’t exist a present; there exists only that which will and what has happened.


That which is being thought and said of becomes real but real in its absence, which presence is infinitely away. Bgd – Beograd na dlanu Website.

Branko Miljković – Serbo-Croatian Poetry Translation

He was cremated and buried at “Novo groblje” in Belgrade. Email or Phone Password Forgot account?

Wishing you all the best Branko P. He translated Russian and French poets, wrote essays and critics. My poetry is losing every meaning now and turning into my worst enemy. I can not write anymore. In this poetic emptiness the word cherry blossoms more beautiful than a cherry on this world.

Ljubav i Poezija Public Figure. The feeling that poetry creates is emptiness. Everyone Will Write Poetry dream is an ancient and forgotten truth that no one can verify anymore foreign lands are singing now as sea and worries east is west from the west, false movement is the fastest now wisdom and birds of my forsaken disease are singing flower between ash and a smell those who refuse to survive love and lovers turning back time garden whose smells earth doesn’t recognize and soil that stays faithful to the fire because this world isn’t Sun’s only concern.

Sections of this page. My loneliness is now absolute.