Great Britain
Exhibition in Podgorica
On this canvas the colours slowly start to assume
the contours of the unreal. Some time ago,
before entering this space,
amidst the autumn landscape,
it seemed to me that I could see
irregularly written letters.
That is the retreat of hues,
inside the semicircle the yellow leaves are curling themselves into.
With my hand I covered
the remains of the light.
(When for a long time you write about the darkness
you become slightly intimate with the elemental powers.)
The noise gradually disappears,
even the frames of the exhibited paintings
deviate from their purpose.
No one can consciously reach
the atmosphere of the closed senses.
And, for months, I have been
detached from the noisy flows,
trying to accomplish
the desire for impassiveness.
Translated by Aleksandra Nikčević Batrićević
FRANCE
Exhibition in Podgorica
On this canvas the colours slowly start to assume
the contours of the unreal. Some time ago,
before entering this space,
amidst the autumn landscape,
it seemed to me that I could see
irregularly written letters.
That is the retreat of hues,
inside the semicircle the yellow leaves are curling themselves into.
With my hand I covered
the remains of the light.
(When for a long time you write about the darkness
you become slightly intimate with the elemental powers.)
The noise gradually disappears,
even the frames of the exhibited paintings
deviate from their purpose.
No one can consciously reach
the atmosphere of the closed senses.
And, for months, I have been
detached from the noisy flows,
trying to accomplish
the desire for impassiveness.
Translated by Aleksandra Nikčević Batrićević
Germany
Exhibition in Podgorica
On this canvas the colours slowly start to assume
the contours of the unreal. Some time ago,
before entering this space,
amidst the autumn landscape,
it seemed to me that I could see
irregularly written letters.
That is the retreat of hues,
inside the semicircle the yellow leaves are curling themselves into.
With my hand I covered
the remains of the light.
(When for a long time you write about the darkness
you become slightly intimate with the elemental powers.)
The noise gradually disappears,
even the frames of the exhibited paintings
deviate from their purpose.
No one can consciously reach
the atmosphere of the closed senses.
And, for months, I have been
detached from the noisy flows,
trying to accomplish
the desire for impassiveness.
Translated by Aleksandra Nikčević Batrićević
Italia
Exhibition in Podgorica
On this canvas the colours slowly start to assume
the contours of the unreal. Some time ago,
before entering this space,
amidst the autumn landscape,
it seemed to me that I could see
irregularly written letters.
That is the retreat of hues,
inside the semicircle the yellow leaves are curling themselves into.
With my hand I covered
the remains of the light.
(When for a long time you write about the darkness
you become slightly intimate with the elemental powers.)
The noise gradually disappears,
even the frames of the exhibited paintings
deviate from their purpose.
No one can consciously reach
the atmosphere of the closed senses.
And, for months, I have been
detached from the noisy flows,
trying to accomplish
the desire for impassiveness.
Translated by Aleksandra Nikčević Batrićević
Albania
Exhibition in Podgorica
On this canvas the colours slowly start to assume
the contours of the unreal. Some time ago,
before entering this space,
amidst the autumn landscape,
it seemed to me that I could see
irregularly written letters.
That is the retreat of hues,
inside the semicircle the yellow leaves are curling themselves into.
With my hand I covered
the remains of the light.
(When for a long time you write about the darkness
you become slightly intimate with the elemental powers.)
The noise gradually disappears,
even the frames of the exhibited paintings
deviate from their purpose.
No one can consciously reach
the atmosphere of the closed senses.
And, for months, I have been
detached from the noisy flows,
trying to accomplish
the desire for impassiveness.
Translated by Aleksandra Nikčević Batrićević
Poland
Exhibition in Podgorica
On this canvas the colours slowly start to assume
the contours of the unreal. Some time ago,
before entering this space,
amidst the autumn landscape,
it seemed to me that I could see
irregularly written letters.
That is the retreat of hues,
inside the semicircle the yellow leaves are curling themselves into.
With my hand I covered
the remains of the light.
(When for a long time you write about the darkness
you become slightly intimate with the elemental powers.)
The noise gradually disappears,
even the frames of the exhibited paintings
deviate from their purpose.
No one can consciously reach
the atmosphere of the closed senses.
And, for months, I have been
detached from the noisy flows,
trying to accomplish
the desire for impassiveness.
Translated by Aleksandra Nikčević Batrićević
Russia
Exhibition in Podgorica
On this canvas the colours slowly start to assume
the contours of the unreal. Some time ago,
before entering this space,
amidst the autumn landscape,
it seemed to me that I could see
irregularly written letters.
That is the retreat of hues,
inside the semicircle the yellow leaves are curling themselves into.
With my hand I covered
the remains of the light.
(When for a long time you write about the darkness
you become slightly intimate with the elemental powers.)
The noise gradually disappears,
even the frames of the exhibited paintings
deviate from their purpose.
No one can consciously reach
the atmosphere of the closed senses.
And, for months, I have been
detached from the noisy flows,
trying to accomplish
the desire for impassiveness.
Translated by Aleksandra Nikčević Batrićević
Slovakia
Exhibition in Podgorica
On this canvas the colours slowly start to assume
the contours of the unreal. Some time ago,
before entering this space,
amidst the autumn landscape,
it seemed to me that I could see
irregularly written letters.
That is the retreat of hues,
inside the semicircle the yellow leaves are curling themselves into.
With my hand I covered
the remains of the light.
(When for a long time you write about the darkness
you become slightly intimate with the elemental powers.)
The noise gradually disappears,
even the frames of the exhibited paintings
deviate from their purpose.
No one can consciously reach
the atmosphere of the closed senses.
And, for months, I have been
detached from the noisy flows,
trying to accomplish
the desire for impassiveness.
Translated by Aleksandra Nikčević Batrićević
Sweden
Exhibition in Podgorica
On this canvas the colours slowly start to assume
the contours of the unreal. Some time ago,
before entering this space,
amidst the autumn landscape,
it seemed to me that I could see
irregularly written letters.
That is the retreat of hues,
inside the semicircle the yellow leaves are curling themselves into.
With my hand I covered
the remains of the light.
(When for a long time you write about the darkness
you become slightly intimate with the elemental powers.)
The noise gradually disappears,
even the frames of the exhibited paintings
deviate from their purpose.
No one can consciously reach
the atmosphere of the closed senses.
And, for months, I have been
detached from the noisy flows,
trying to accomplish
the desire for impassiveness.
Translated by Aleksandra Nikčević Batrićević
Slovenija
Exhibition in Podgorica
On this canvas the colours slowly start to assume
the contours of the unreal. Some time ago,
before entering this space,
amidst the autumn landscape,
it seemed to me that I could see
irregularly written letters.
That is the retreat of hues,
inside the semicircle the yellow leaves are curling themselves into.
With my hand I covered
the remains of the light.
(When for a long time you write about the darkness
you become slightly intimate with the elemental powers.)
The noise gradually disappears,
even the frames of the exhibited paintings
deviate from their purpose.
No one can consciously reach
the atmosphere of the closed senses.
And, for months, I have been
detached from the noisy flows,
trying to accomplish
the desire for impassiveness.
Translated by Aleksandra Nikčević Batrićević
North Macedonia
Exhibition in Podgorica
On this canvas the colours slowly start to assume
the contours of the unreal. Some time ago,
before entering this space,
amidst the autumn landscape,
it seemed to me that I could see
irregularly written letters.
That is the retreat of hues,
inside the semicircle the yellow leaves are curling themselves into.
With my hand I covered
the remains of the light.
(When for a long time you write about the darkness
you become slightly intimate with the elemental powers.)
The noise gradually disappears,
even the frames of the exhibited paintings
deviate from their purpose.
No one can consciously reach
the atmosphere of the closed senses.
And, for months, I have been
detached from the noisy flows,
trying to accomplish
the desire for impassiveness.
Translated by Aleksandra Nikčević Batrićević