BIOGRAPHY: ZLATAN DEMIROVIĆ
Bilingual book writer, novelist, critic, internationally acknowledged poet, and trilingual translator (English, Czech, Bosnian-Croatian-Serbin languages).
* The founder of PRODIGY LIFE ACADEMY and author of the PRODIGY LIFE PROGRAM, which serves as a platform for spiritual and personal development.
* Founder and Editor in Chief of PRODIGY PUBLISHED USA (publishing, promoting books, self-developing programs, anthologies of world multilingual poetry etc.)
* DOCTOR OF HUMANITY of PRIXTON CHURC & UNIVERSITY-Milwaukee, USA (2021)
* HIGHER HONORARY DEGEE of ACADEMY OF ART AND CALIGAPHY-EGYPT (2021).
* MEMBER of the ADMINISTRATION COUNCIL THE MOMENT INTERNATIONALNEWS-USA
* Admin advisor for POETRY AND LITERATURE WORLD VISION, EACRITORES SIN FRONTIERAS.
* Multiply awarded as a poet, philanthropist, and humanist.
* His poetry, novels, essays, and critics have been published and presented in various literature magazines, radio, TV, media streams and participated in many anthologies around the world.
* Author and Editor-in-chief of anthology “Bangladesh English Poets” (27 renowned authors from Bangladesh), Pakistani English Poets (25 renowned authors from Pakistan) and more than 200 books other authors .
* Founder and editor of Prodigy Magazine 2022
Books published:
PRODIGY LIFE; 4 STEPS TEACHING FOR SELF-HEALING; GENIUS MINDSET TRAINING; PAIDA LAJIN SAMOIZLJECENJE; POETRY COLLECTIONS 1,2,3
(All published in USA, by BALBOA PRESS, AMAZON, PRODIGY PUBLISHED)
Translated into:
BOŽIĆNA NOĆ
(u društvu pisaca)
Kad’ me neko upita,
“kako si proveo božićne praznike”,
obično odgovaram:
“Ponosno”…
A, pitalac,
djelimično zatečen tim odgovorom,
bi nastavio znatiželjno,
“U krugu familije, zar ne”?
“Da”, odgovaram ja spremno,
iako taj ne sluti,
niti razmatra mogućnost,
da neko može živjeti i sam…
Nije, da ja nemam nikoga,
štaviše, cijeli svijet je moja knjiga…
Ali, čuj sad ti ovo:
Ponosno ja zagrabim iz tajne sehare
snop uredno složenih novčanica,
pa formiram novu grupu moneta
od po dvadeset zelenih jedinica…
A, šta bi sad taj tipični materijalista
upitao još mene,
ne bih više ni ulazio u te njegove dileme…
Nego, ja izađem iz rezidencije svoje
i provozam se
raskošnom crnom limuzinom,
što za prošle praznike,
nagradom za vrijedni rad,
darovan ja bijah Gospodarom Vasione.
Pa da vidim, šta mi narod radi!
A, nije potrebno vozit’ se daleko,
tim širokim, ukrašenim bulevarima,
da ja sretnem primjerke
iz ciljane mi grupe.
Te, što u kolicima iz supermarketa
slobodno vozikaju okolo
svu imovinu svoju,
pokretnu i onu nepokretnu.
Ma, kakva pečena ćurka!
Šta je ona u poređenju
sa kosmičkom energijom
koja me obasja,
dok gledam u oči
svih tih iznenađenih dobitnika
nagrade od 20 beba!
Mogu tek pretpostaviti,
šta o tome misle
ti užurbani prolaznici,
što već kasne na dogovorenu večeru
sa ko zna već kime…
Ili, možda i onaj tamo, vanzemaljac.
Ali, zacijelo, ja znam
kako Svemir na to gleda!
Jer, izgleda, na osnovu svega,
da ni On, kao i ja ovu večer,
nema pametnijeg posla…
Svakome bi bila čudna
ta uzvišena energija,
koja mi više i nije fenomen,
iako, to moderna nauka
ne priznaje i ne želi
time da se bavi…
Sve u svemu,
nadomjesti to meni
sve što mi nedostaje!
A, očigledno, večeras
i ovim iznenadnim dobitnicima,
koje ja ne mogu nazvati drugačije,
nego, underground piscima
životnih romana…
Marry Christmas!
CHRISTMAS NIGHT
(in the company of writers)
I wandered lonely as a cloud
when all at once I was surrounded
by a crowd a host of people
with joy shining in their soul
celebrating the day…
And there’s also a man that’s
in a good mood, as he is
sharing it with others and
asking all about the last nigh…
I couldn’t avoid to be questioned
by him about how I spent
the Christmas night.
so I answered “Great fully“…
The questioner, partially taken aback
by that answer, would continue curiously,
„Surrounded by family, right“?
„Yes“, readily I said, through my teeth,
although he neither suspects,
nor considers the possibility
that someone can live alone…
It’s not that I don’t have
anyone to share my life with,
moreover, the whole world is my book…
But anyway, who would rather listen to
the truth from the first hand:
I proudly use to grab
a stack of neatly stacked bills,
from my secret compartment,
and form a new bunch
of twenty green ones…
So, what that typical materialist
should ask me again, I refuse even get
into his dilemmas anymore…
Finally, I left my little castle
and took a ride in my
luxurious black limousine,
pondering about last holidays,
for my valuable work,
I was granted by the Lord of the Universe…
Just to see, what my people
do and feel out there.
You don’t need to drive far,
over wide and decorated boulevards,
so to meet the specimens
from my target group.
Those, who in supermarket charts
are driving around all their property,
mobile and that immobile…
What a roasted turkey
is compared to that cosmic energy,
as I’m flashed by looking into the eyes
all those surprised prize winners
of a measly twenty bucks!
I can just guess,
what all busy passers-by,
in rush for a dinner party,
would think about it…
And, specifically,
that alien over there…
But, surely, I know
how the Universe works and see that!
Based on everything,
it seems that both of us
have no better job to do this night…
That sublime energy,
so scary to others,
no longer is a phenomenon for me.
Also for modern science,
which doesn’t care about it at all…
All in all,
it fulfilled me
with all I’m missing!
The same as those winners,
who I simply use to call,
underground life story writers…
Merry Christmas!
CVIJET SAM, EVO ME, POSTOJIM
Ko može narušiti radost bivstva
ovoj, zorom orošenoj,
suncem okupanoj ruži?
Sem ljubavnika razigranog srca,
što, ne prezajuć’ prikrada se smjelo…
Pa na šta junak taj sad misli,
dok otkida najljepše darove od Boga,
namijenjene divi srca njegovoga?
Nije njemu do ovdašnjih stvari,
dok gori u ljubavi kosmičkoj…
Nit’ je njemu do nekoga smisla,
u sferi toj eteričnoj…
Al’, šta sad cvijet taj misli,
nošen poklonikom tim
ka oltaru njime odabranim?
Cvijet taj, definitivno, ne misli!
Već, on dobro zna!
Da, pored širenja mirisne ljepote Božje,
izvršava i zadatke neke druge.
Gdje svjedokom je dešavanja svakojakih,
od ljudskoga rađanja, vezivanja,
rastajanja, sve do posljednjega ispraćaja…
Pa sad treperi nježno u toj ruci,
ko’ da čeka neki stih,
neku novu pjesmu,
iz priče, već dobro mu znane!
CVIJET SAM, EVO ME, POSTOJIM.
DOK SRCA KUCAJU
Dok oni, jedni na druge pucaju,
srca im i dalje kucaju,
neovisno o njihovim mislima,
svakojakim idejama
i konačno, jedino strahovima.
Jer, srca ne misle, ne nagađaju,
nego, ona dobro znaju
i imaju moć,
da, dok drže ključ života,
također se povezuju
i sa drugim srcima,
gdje god da su
i na kojoj god su strani…
Ona kucaju,
a ta nas magija ne zanima,
jer, tako nas naučiše,
da to je samo organ,
a ne svjetionik
i jedini navigator kroz život,
kojeg slijedit’ moramo,
bez kojeg smo
izgubljeni usred pučine…
U dualitetu separacije,
kroz prizmu subjektiviteta,
za nas su vidljivi i izdvojeni,
samo: “Oni”, “Mi”,
a usred svega,
naše izgubljeno i ranjivo “Ja”!
I, dok srca kucaju,
oni i dalje,
jedni na druge pucaju…
sve,
dok srca kucaju…
I’M A FLOWER, HERE I AM, I EXIST
Who can interrupt the joy of being,
of this rose, sprinkled with dawn,
drenched by the sun?
Except a lover with a playful heart,
which, without fear, sneaks up boldly…
So what this hero is thinking now,
while tearing away
the most beautiful gifts from God,
intended for the love of his heart?
He doesn’t care about things here,
while burning in cosmic love…
It doesn’t make any sense to him,
in that ethereal sphere…
But what does that flower think now,
worn by the devotee
to the altar chosen there.
This flower doesn’t think!
It already knows, very well!
In addition to spreading
the fragrant beauty of God,
performs many tasks for others.
Where is a witness to all kinds of events,
from human birth, bonding,
parting, until the last farewell…
So now, it flickers gently in that hand,
while waiting for some verse,
or, some well known poem, again!
I AM A FLOWER, I EXIST, HERE I AM…
I’M A FLOWER, HERE I AM, I EXIST
Who can interrupt the joy of being,
of this rose, sprinkled with dawn,
drenched by the sun?
Except a lover with a playful heart,
which, without fear, sneaks up boldly…
So what this hero is thinking now,
while tearing away
the most beautiful gifts from God,
intended for the love of his heart?
He doesn’t care about things here,
while burning in cosmic love…
It doesn’t make any sense to him,
in that ethereal sphere…
But what does that flower think now,
worn by the devotee
to the altar chosen there.
This flower doesn’t think!
It already knows, very well!
In addition to spreading
the fragrant beauty of God,
performs many tasks for others.
Where is a witness to all kinds of events,
from human birth, bonding,
parting, until the last farewell…
So now, it flickers gently in that hand,
while waiting for some verse,
or, some well known poem, again!
I AM A FLOWER, I EXIST, HERE I AM…
KAMEN
Kamen sam,
evo me, postojim!
Za sve one što me vide
i za one, što na rastanku
uvijek me se sjete…
Kamen sam, i ovdje,
na otvrdlome balkanskom tlu.
Usred svijeta prapostojećeg.
Možeš me zvati raznim imenima:
po mostarskom mostu,
krivoj kuli, Il’, jednostavno,
stećak…
Svi oni što vjeruju samo u silu,
naći će me i u kući bijeloj,
simbolu najveće moći.
I počiteljska kula,
što gordo prkosi krajoliku,
također, to sam ja,
kao i svi ostali, čarobni gradovi bijeli…
Nosilac sam poruka,
nastanka, vremena i nestanka…
Vrijeme bi da govori,
ali kako, kad ni ne postoji.
Jer, ja sam taj što dobro zna
i skriva sva znanja za one već upisane,
što tek treba da se rode.
Rukom čudotvorca sam isklesan
i pepelom stradanja posut…
Temeljac sam i nadgrobni spomenik…
Čak sam i granični kamen,
ali ja, kad bih smišljao granice,
zvao bih se čovjek…
Kristalnim bridom
sad nemarno
siječem zrake sunca
i poklanjam obelisku
što oslikava vrijeme,
na uglačanoj plohi,
gdje u svakoj čestici,
riječju, vjerom, nadom i suzama,
od prapočetka, sve upisano bješe…
Kamen sam, evo me, postojim…
PJESME NEKE
To su biseri na grudima
prelijepe plesačice…
I sablje u rukama samuraja,
prsti na obaraču ukopanih vojnika,
omče na vratu osuđenika…
To su one iskrice na snijegu
i radost dječaka,
što ne može da spava,
dok pahulje miluju proplanak
i padinu, dolje podno brijega…
Opojni eliksir u boci pijanca…
Iskonska tuga nesretnika,
koji traži hljeba,
ispod ovog plavog neba…
Pulsirajuća sreća u venama
punim dopamina,
il’ posljednji ropac
neshvaćenog starca…
Teorija relativiteta
u programiranoj glavi;
il’ sunce u očima
putnika kroz vrijeme,
koji zna,
jer vidi,
da
ipak
nije
izgubljen
i sam…
Jer tu su pjesme neke,
ko biseri na vratu
razigrane
ljepotice
čarobne
neke…
SOME POEMS
Nothing, but pearls on the neck
of a beautiful oriental dancer…
Or sabers in the hands of the samurai;
fingers on the trigger
of the soldiers in the trench;
the noose on the convict’s neck…
Sparkles on the snow,
and the children’s joy
at the dreamless night,
while snowflakes caress the glade
and the slope down the hill…
Mesmerizing elixir
in a drunkard’s bottle;
the primordial sorrow
of the unfortunate,
who asks for bread,
under the sky so blue…
Pulsating happiness in the veins
full of dopamine, or
the misunderstood
old man’s last groan…
Theory of relativity
in the program-minded head,
or the sun in the eyes
of time traveler,
who knows,
because
he sees,
that,
nevertheless,
he’ s
not
alone!
Because,
there are some poems,
like pearls on the neck of
some
playful
magical
beautiful
eastern dancer…
WHILE HEARTS ARE BEATING
While they shoot at each other,
their hearts still beat,
regardless of thoughts without tears,
all kinds of ideas, only fears,
with the only goal, to hit!
But hearts do not think,
do not guess, rather,
they know very well
and they have power,
while they hold the key to life,
they also connect
with other hearts,
wherever they are
and whichever side they are on…
They beat,
and we are not interested in that magic,
because,
it’s how we were taught,
that it’s just an organ,
but not the lighthouse
and the only one
navigator through life,
which we must follow,
and without it, we are lost
in the middle of the unknown sea…
In the duality of separation,
through the prism of subjectivity,
for us are visible and separated,
only: „They“, „We“,
and in the middle of everything,
our lost and vulnerable „I“!
While hearts are beating,
they are still shooting and hitting…
all until
hearts are beating…