Nastasimir Franović

Dubrovnik 12.04. 1960.
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Thoughts are mine

Hidden are my thoughts.
Surrounded by ramparts. I dreamt over a hundred times.
You will come at the foot of the rampart quietly, imperceptibly.
I know you'll approach me lovingly and you'll ask me dreamily.
What is bothering me? Why do these thoughts press me like a burden?
I'll tell you when the time comes. Why words?
Not everything needs to be said. I let my heart sob.
When the time comes to cross all those words over my lips, there is no one ahead of you.
The castle In my mind, is only yours.
When you knock, I'll know who it is.
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