Biti nezavisan pesnik u Srbiji znači biti gladan, nemati posao u rođenoj zemlji, nemati zvanično zvanje, ni status dostojan ljudskog bića, nemati zdravstveno osiguranje, staž, penziju, iako je pesništvo profesija, zanimanje, jer pesnik radi i stvara pre svega za svoj narod. Univerzitet u Beogradu da otvori poseban odsek za pesničko usavršavanje, ne kako postati kritičar, istoričar književnosti, tumač poezije ili profesor, nego kako postati pesnik. Da ne bi bilo zloupotrebe zvanja, u fakultetskoj diplomi mora da piše DIPLOMIRANI PESNIK, a ne profesor književnosti. Pesništvo je najvažnija umetnost, iznad svake druge umetnosti, iznad književnosti, literature i istorije, živi trag, dela. Pesnici bi trebalo da budu lice države i nacije, a ne da umiru od gladi. Dovoljno je da ceo svet pogleda biografije najvećih srpskih pesnika, tuga za tugom, da se Srbin postidi što je Srbin. I onda se čudimo što nas nazivaju “monstrumima” i “najgenocidnijim narodom na svetu”? Kad smo takvi prema rođenim pesnicima, kakvi smo prema drugim ljudskim bićima? Nešto lepše biografije imaju samo oni pesnici koji su bili bliski vlasti, ili diplomate, drugi su proslavljeni tek nakon strašne smrti, a nesebično su davali svoje duše, srca i živote srpskom narodu pišući na srpskom jeziku! Zapravo Srbija ni ne zaslužuje tako genijalnu poeziju kakvu ima.
A prolonged and warning cry of Saša Milivojev is always and anew prompting us to carefully contemplate the world we are living in. Alas, the world is far too small for a true literate and must be treated planetarly. However, these verses of Saša are not sent forth from Pan’s flute, they are wailing from Rumi’s Nay, a type of Middle-Eastern flute. And it seems as if, they are once again embodying the warning and worrying words of Rumi “Don’t sit under a tree with those that do not understand you, sit only with those who know and understand you. Sit only under a tree that is full of blossoms”, from now on.
My Saša, it is hard being a poet in these times, dry and wasted. It is as hard as ascending the Axis mundi, the never-ending, invisible, heavenly pillar. The heavens are soaring and the earth is unyielding. A timber post is easy to climb – they have stirrups. But it is worth it, and it is possible, with help of universal thought and fierce words. I know Saša that you eagerly wanted to find the right words for the contemporary wanderings of the frightfully perplexed world. You succeeded in terms of themes, however, how does one find the right, unadulterated words for themes so terribly compelling? You have succeeded, oftentimes, with poignant thought, although sometimes suffocating the words with gratuitous rhymes… And there once again, just like Rumi’s nightingale, who landing on the rose’s thorn, still continues to sing. You were not afraid of the thorn. Although you walk on the thorns. Your cry is not coming from Voltaire’s garden, it is a celestial cry from the depths of hell. For the One who is capable of hearing.
And so, in this vertiginous and puzzled world, the Jupiter and Venus are embracing, however, luckily, there are men who don’t believe that man and the donkey are smarter than the man. You got that right, Saša. It is right to fight against that poison that is, in your own words “on the planet of the reptiles, piles of human corpses”. Are we going to be burying them in cardboard coffins, the likes of WWII Britain?
Professor Emeritus
PhD Rade Božović
.
Translated by Ljubica Yentl Tinska
.
Saša Milivojev on the Front page of Orange Star magazine
Had it not been for a fact that I myself am a child of a poet, I may have failed to perceive the talent of a young man who lives faraway from his hometown, yet not far from his ancient archetype. Was Sasha Milivoyev born a poet, or is this what he had become, out of what breadth bears in its trail, that sharpens the senses and adds up all the sufferings, regardless. Milivoyev is simply a poet in the melancholy backdrop of the maker, who is sheltered and strengthened by his verses. Milivoyev knows that with poetry one transcends to timelessness, to infinity, to imortality and namelessness in which we become the twins and transmitters of Chist’s words, hence in his “Message After death” he says:
And I have died, in antiquity, and noone ached for me. Some rejoiced, young as I was, as I bled on the cross, drenched in blood, in agony.
Not a single tear rolled down for me, when they nailed my bones to yew, the dzelats were singing sneeringly. and I was smiling, forgivingly.
In that life so brief, in that cauldron of hell in the tarnished jaws I begged for love with poetry, fruitlessly.
Earnestly, the poet perceives the timelessness and supremacy of creation in which, owing to poetry no less, he forgives the numerous bypassers of life and looks at humanity from some other, altogether tranquil, distant angle. Milivoyev sings:
And as I have perished to all I have forgiven, soaring to Third Heaven.
Into the mountains of crimson jade, Barefoot with the angels I stroll, It is raining milk and honey on the squares of the city of gold, just as it did before.
Was there ever a true poet that did not dream of his own passing, especially being a melancholic? There is no poet that does not live a second or third life, through poetry bestowed. Sasha Milivoyev flawlessly perceives this ceaseless orbit, and hence draws to a close the most beautiful of his poems with these words:
Here, there is no pain and misery, resentment and poverty, fear and sin, by the beautiful streams, sweet fruits are blossoming, here, love is always waiting for you when you come to stay from far, far away.
The poet is within us, although at times miles away. It is with his gift that he transcends through space and time. With his talent, Milivoyev embodies just that. That is why his poetry is an internal howl that discerns the futility of the subjacent world of suffering and grief. The greatness of the poet lies in living in the suffering yet speaking from the unforeseeable heights, transforming the suffering into a blessing and being triumphant.
Faraway from his homeland Serbia, Sasha Milivoyev is nonetheless close to all of us. He left, but he knows that here, for him, love will always be the way, when he comes from far away. The Poets Souls Society is always waiting for him.
At last, an old Russian song says: All you need is to look up at the dark and towering, star embellished night skies’ to see the one that is faraway… And so, I too, can now, at night, from the vast distance, see and hear the poet Sasha Milivoyev.
PhD Mila Alečković professor of psychology and psychiatry, author
ex University of Sorbonne
International Society for Psychopathology of Expression and Art Therapy
Translated by Ljubica Yentl Tinska
.
Professor PhD Mila Alečković i Saša Milivojev
Sasha Milivoyev is an eminent Serbian writer, poet, columnist and a journalist, residing in Dubai, having left Serbia a long time ago due to discrimination, censorship (and blocking) in all media. He was one of the most widely read columnists in Serbia, the author of five books and a hundred columns published in daily newspapers. He is the author of the novel “The Boy from the Yellow House” as well as the numerous political speeches. His works have been translated into some twenty languages worldwide…
Saša Milivojev on the Front Page of Orange Star magazine
PROFESOR EMERITUS DR RADE BOŽOVIĆ O STIHOVIMA „SVETSKOG BOLA“ SAŠE MILIVOJEVA
Produženi i opominjući jecaj Saše Milivojeva nas uvek iznova tera na to da brižno razmišljamo o svetu u kome živimo. Ali svet je za pravog literatu previše malen, mora se planetrano ophoditi prema njemu. Ovi Sašini stihovi ne izlaze iz Panove frule, oni jecaju iz Rumijevog naja, vrsti itočnjačke svirale. Oni kao da nam ponovo govore opasnu uznemiravujuću Rumijevu, islamskog filosofa i pesnika, stih rečenicu: „Ne sedaj pod drvo sa onim koji te ne razume, sedaj samo s onima koji te poznaju i razumeju“. Sedaj samo pod voćke u punom cvatu, od sad.
Saša moj, teško je u ovim suvim, pustošnim vremenima biti pesnik. To je kao penjati se uz axis mundi, uz nevidljivi nebeski stub koji nema kraja. Nebo je visoko, a zemlja tvrda. Lako je popeti se uz drvenu banderu – tu su uzengije. Ali vredi, i može se, popeti uz pomoć univerzalnih misli i žestokih reči. Znam Saša, da si žarko želeo da nađeš prave reči za savremena lutanja užasno zbunjenog sveta. Uspeo si kad je reč o temama, ali kako naći prave, nepatvorene reči za užasno uzbudljive teme? Uspeo si, često, da nas ganeš mislima, iako si ponegde gušio reči nepotrebnom rimom… I tu mi ličiš na Rumijevog slavuja koji je sleteo na bodlju ruže, ali je ipak pevao. Nisi se uplašio trna. Iako po trnju gaziš. Tvoj jecaj nije u Volterovom vrtu, on je nebeski vapaj u paklu. Za onog Ko je spreman da ga čuje.
Dakle, u ovom vrtoglavom i zbunjenom svetu Jupiter i Venera se grle, ali, srećom, postoje ljudi koji ne veruju da su čovek i magarac pametniji od čoveka. Saša, to si zapazio. Valja boriti se protiv tog otrova što je, kako kažeš, „na Planeti reptila, brdo ljudskih leševa“. Hoćemo li ih sahranjivati u kartonskim kovčezima, kao u Britaniji za vreme Drugog svetskog rata?
Prof. emeritus
dr Rade Božović
.
SAŠA MILIVOJEV NA NASLOVNOJ STRANI ORANGE STAR MAGAZINA
