We all have our own life path,
the thin thread in which we last.
We weave wreaths with our thoughts
sometimes from bay leaf,
sometimes from dry petals of happiness
which we forgot on the way to glory.
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Vijenci života
Svi imamo svoj životni put,
tanku nit u kojoj trajemo.
Mislima pletemo vijence
ponekad od lovorovog lista,
ponekad od suvih latica sreće
koju smo na putu do slave zaboravili.
7.7.2014.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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