Crazy booty I often inventoried in the dead of night
mirepspje citiraoпрошле године
I answer I do not wish to own
mirepspje citiraoпрошле године
Nothing — an old spoon, a rudder, the remains of a walkie-talkie
mirepspje citiraoпрошле године
I open my bundle and dump the contents in the furrows of the earth
mirepspje citiraoпрошле године
for caught within my little gem was more misery and hope than one could fathom
mirepspje citiraoпрошле године
Little droplets that somehow became gems gathered by beggars who trade them for rice
mirepspje citiraoпрошле године
I had a ruby. Imperfect, beautiful like faceted blood. It came from India where they wash up on the shore
mirepspje citiraoпрошле године
This uncommon bundle has always been my comfort, my happy burden
mirepspje citiraoпрошле године
I have always possessed a kind of knapsack, if nothing more than a piece of cloth or skin tied in a knot. My sack, worthy companion, produces, when opened, a world defined by its contents — fluxion, unique, beloved