We don’t know anything about silent sages, buried knowledge, the eye of the mute poet, serene seers, yet how many talkative destroyers, prophets and ideologues, teachers and beautifiers there are on the other side.
~ Dejan Stojanovic
The night is still waiting.
Dream by making and make by dreaming.
Entering a cell, penetrating deep as a flying saucer to find a new galaxy would be an honorable task for a new scientist interested more in the inner state of the soul than in outer space.
To sense the peace of extinguished passionHappiness in not knowing the ultimate knowledge
Hope without love is hopeless.
When the star dies, Its eye closes; tired of watching, It flies back to its first bright dream.
If birth is a manifestation of life, death is another.
Life into death— Life’s other shape, No rupture, Only crossing.
Every thought about death takes a moment of life away.
To hear never-heard sounds, To see never-seen colors and shapes, To try to understand the imperceptible Power pervading the world; To fly and find pure ethereal substances That are not of matter But of that invisible soul pervading reality. To hear another soul and to whisper to another soul; To be a lantern in the darkness Or an umbrella in a stormy day; To feel much more than know. To be the eyes of an eagle, slope of a mountain; To be a wave understanding the influence of the moon; To be a tree and read the memory of the leaves; To be an insignificant pedestrian on the streets Of crazy cities watching, watching, and watching. To be a smile on the face of a woman And shine in her memory As a moment saved without planning.
A versifier passes through the sound, sounds go through a poet.
To the knights of faith nobody believes.
Faith is a question of eyesight, even the blind can see that.
I lose faith in mathematics, logical and rigid. What with those that even zero doesn’t accept?
A word only writes Its night and ridesIts dream.
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem but that is impossible the world has written its own.
To write good poems is the secret of brevity.
If we were to understand how important it is to say something and say it well, maybe we wouldn’t write a single word, but that would be tragic.
There can be no forced inspiration.
You don’t know anything, but I know even less.
Total knowledge is annihilation Of the desire to see, to touch, to feel The world sensed only through senses And immune to the knowledge without feeling.
Omnipotence and omniscience are the end of power and knowledge.
There are too many literati, yet very few are smart; knowledge is acquired far too easily.
Busy with the ugliness of the expensive success We forget the easiness of free beautyLying sad right around the corner, Only an instant removed, Unnoticed and squandered.
You mark and celebrate errors, transforming failures into successes.
Accidents are not accidents but precise arrivals at the wrong right time.
Without space, there is no time.
He did not waste time in a vain search for a place in history.
There is only as much space, only as much time, Only as much desire, only as many words, Only as many pages, only as much ink To accept all of us at light-speed Hurrying into the Promised Land Of oblivion that is waiting for us sooner or later.
It is vain futility to analyze the algebra of time.
It is futile to spend time telling stories about the fleetness of each day.
Pose your questions to people and you will get countless useless answers.
All people are enslaved by something.
Some people complain there are too many people on earth, Some people complain about secret societies, Some people accuse others of not being able to wake up early. Almost all people complain about something.
The world cannot be translated, It can only be dreamed of and touched.
Dreams are our only geography—our native land.
A hidden spark of the dream sleeps In the forest and waits In the celestial spheres of the brain.
Two forces create eternity – a fairy tale and a dream from the fairy tale.
A big desire is not enough to meet the expectations of lost dreams.
