Sometimes, when I repose in solitude
and when the winds around me silence,
on the lake of my soul I see my reflection,
and through it, beneath the clear water,
pebbles in colors of the rainbow,
sands like crystal and grains of gold.
Within moments this water realm stirs,
the treasury of emotions oscillating
from the restless hand that plows the surface.
Only an image vague remains
of what the mind had seen as real.
But I know now, I know
’tis a mirage, a play of water and light
beyond which still abides
of my being.
By Boris Pecigoš, August 16, 2009
English translation: Erika Katačić Kožić, 2012