Vista
“Za svaka otvorena vrata postoji prekrasna talijanska slika”
“For every open door exists a beautiful Italian painting"
Copyright 2025, Marian Stella
Vista (vidikovac) je mjesto u koje svi ponekad trebamo pobjeći. Tu izazivam sebe da bolje pišem na hrvatskom jeziku i zašto ne kroz poeziju? Na kraju krajeva, imam svoju muzu, tako da nije teško biti inspirirana i pobjeći na to mjesto.
A vista is a place we all need to escape to sometimes. Here is where I challenge myself to better write in the Croatian language & why not through poetry? After all I have my muse, so it really isn’t so difficult to be inspired and escape to that place.
Zagorski san
U tišini noći
Iza brda
Postoji svjetlo u daljini
Sanjam te kućice i svjetlo koje sjaji iz kuhinjskog prozora
Govoreći mi točno kamo da idem
Moji koraci polako se kreću kroz snijeg
Priđem bliže kućice
Čujem glazbu, miris pečenja
Peć na drva gori, glasovi obitelji prije mene
Koji kažu dobrodošli kući mila
A ja s najvećim osmijehom
Koji cijelom svijetu govori da sam doma
Marian Stella 16.12.25
Translation of Zagorski San (Zagorski Dream)
In the still of the night, beyond the hills, there is a light in the distance, I dream of that cabin and light shining from the kitchen window telling me exactly where to go…
My steps move slowly through the snow, I come closer to the cabin, I hear music, the smell of baking, the wood stove is burning, voices of family before me who say, welcome home dear; and me with the biggest smile that tells the whole world I am home…
Slikar plakata je Andrija Maurović, hrvatski slikar I karikaturist / Artist of the poster is Andrija Maurović, Croatian painter & cartoonist.
Zbor
Stojim na pozornici
Sva svjetla na meni
Držim čašu
Punu do vrha
Zbor počinje svirati
Glasnoća se povećava
Valovi kreću
Prolijeva se vino niz stranu čaše
Padajući na moje noge
Glazba prestaje
Stojim na istom mjestu
Idahnem
Svjetla su zamračena
Smiješim se
I u tihom slavlju dižem čašu Bogu
I popijem gutljaj
Marian Stella, 3.6.2026
Translation: The Choir
Standing on the stage, all lights on me, holding a glass that is filled to the top, the choir begins playing, the volume increases, waves move, wine spills down the sides of the glass falling onto my feet, the music stops, standing in the same place, I exhale, the lights dim, I smile, & in quiet celebration I raise my glass to God and take a sip
Translation: The Secrets of Life
I laid the cards out in front of me, I wanted to know the secrets of life, but the wind carried them away, I ran for them, jumped up into the air to at least catch one, only the wind lifted them higher; stopping, watching, how they fall to the ground, I say to myself, I just need one card, again the wind blows and the cards dance for as far as the eyes can see, I won’t quit; I follow the seagull’s reflection to the horizon, until its reflection disappears; with no cards, I lower my hands, a small boat with no direction, floating around, and slowly the current carries me, to where the Klapa sing the secrets of life, and the evening sun shines diamonds on the sea…..
Klapa is a traditional way of singing with origins on the Dalmatian coast of Croatia, it is a cappella style. UNESCO protected & is extraordinary, beautiful & transcendent.
Tajna Života
Položila sam karte ispred sebe
Htjela sam otkriti tajne života, ali vjetar ih je odnio
Trčala sam za njima
Skočila sam u zrak da barem uhvatim jednu kartu
Samo vjetar ih je podigao više
Zaustavljanje
Gledanje
Kako padaju na zemlju
Kažem u sebi
Samo trebam jednu kartu
Opet naleti vjetar i karte plešu toliko daleko koliko ih može vidjeti
Neću odustati
Pratim odraz galeb do horizonta
Dok odraz nestane, ja bez karte
Spuštam ruke
Mali brodić bez smjera
Plutam okolo
I polako struje me nose
Tamo gdje klapa pjeva tajne života
A večernje sunce sjaji dijamante na moru
Marian Stella 16.5.2026
Nek pada do jutra
Ispod stabla trešnje
Proljetna kiša pada na moja ramena
Za ljubav koju nisam mogla vidjeti
Za pjesme koje nisam mogla čuti
Za trenutke kad tamburaši su svirali oko mene
A stala sam smrznut
Nek kiša pada do jutra
Kad svane i sunce sija između grana
I ta mala ptica podsjeća me
Da slušam djevojčicu koja drži moju ruku
I vodi je ljubazno tamo gdje se zvijezde mogu vidjeti tako jasno
Marian Stella 25.4.26
Translation:
Nek Pada do Jutra (Let the rain fall till morning)
Under the cherry tree, the spring rain falls on my shoulders, for the love I could not see, for the songs I could not hear, for the moments that the tambura players played around me but I stood frozen; let the rain fall till morning, when it dawns and the sun shines between the branches, and that small bird reminds me, to listen to the little girl holding my hand, and lead her kindly to where the stars can be seen so clearly……
**Tambura/tumburica is a stringed instrument similar to a mandolin traditional of the Balkans but with it’s own charms**
Na peronu
Sinoć je Rim zvao moje ime
Slikala sam očima prije nego što sam otišla
I sada zamišljam
Studeni dan u Rimu
Gdje kiša pada lagano
Vrsta kiše koja ostavlja kapi na mom satu
Ali još mogu pročitati vrijeme između kapi
I otiske stopala koje sam ostavila prije
Očišćena od svih
Ja čekam na peronu
Gledanje sata
Kondukter kaže
Signora, prego, vlak sada odlazi
Kimam glavom
I pratim osmijeh djevojčica s prozora vlaka
Marian Stella 13.4.2026
Translation for Na peronu (on the platform)
Last night Rome called my name, I took a picture with my eyes before I left, now I imagine, a November day in Rome where the rain falls lightly; the kind of rain that leaves drops on my watch but I can still read the time between the drops
And the footprints that I had left before, cleared by everyone else, I wait on the platform, watching the clock, the conductor says, signora, please, the train is now leaving, I nod and follow the smile of a little girl from the train window….
Zefir
Noću plešem s gusarima
Sijeva preko noćnog neba
Nema buke
Lađa miruje, more tiho
Ogrlica me čeka na stolu pokraj prozora sa zavjesom
Nježno ih je gurnuo zapadni povjetarac
S poljupcem u moje čelo
I nježan šapat kaže da je vrijeme
Okrenem se
Gledam preko ramena
Ogrlica sjaji pred očima
A zefir kaže leti
Marian Stella 16.3.26
Translation:
Zephyr
At night I dance with the pirates, lightening across the night sky, no noise, the ship is at rest, a necklace waits for me on the table beside a window with curtains, gently pushed by the westerly wind, with a kiss on my forehead and a soft whisper that says it is time, I turn, look over my shoulder, the necklace shining in front of my eyes, but the west wind says fly…
Amore
Avion slijeće
Moje srce slavi
Noge ravne na zemlji
Lijepa žurba kroz zračnu luku
S osjećajem u zraku
Ringišpil kofera
Gledam one s torbama kako idu prvi
Kroz klizna vrata
Tamo čeka ljubav
Za svaka otvorena vrata postoji prekrasna talijanska slika
I ja maštam
Da sam ja na toj slici
Tvoje oči bi se smijale
Toplina poput jadranskog sunca
Kao da smo se mi oduvijek poznavali
Uzimaš moju torbu
A ja bezbrižna
S laganim osmijehom
Sunce sije kroz prozore zračne luke
A drugi avion odlijeću
Marian Stella 3.3.26
Translation:
Amore (Italian word for love)
The plane lands, my heart celebrates, feet flat on the ground, a nice rush through the airport with a feeling in the air, carousel of suitcases, I watch those with their bags go first through the sliding glass doors, love is waiting there
For every open door exists a beautiful Italian painting, and I daydream, if I was in that picture, your eyes would smile, warm like the Adriatic sun, like we had always known each other; you take my bag, and I carefree with an easy smile
The sun shines through the airport windows and another plane flies away
Bogojavljenje
Nekako je šarmantan
Kišni siječanjski dan
Ranovečernja ulična svjetla
Postao je svjetliji od tihe vreve
U izlogu dućana ima nade
Zadnji dani božićnih lampica i božićnih šljokica
Koje škakljaju moje srce
Trepereći izlozi trgovina koji se odražavaju na mokrim ulicama
Međusobno se nadopunjuju
Kao da sam dio zagonetke New Yorka
I ovdje počinju snovi……….
Marian Stella 16.1.26
Translation:
Epiphany
Somehow it is charming, a rainy January day, early evening street lamps, made brighter by the quiet bustle, in window shopping there is hope
Last days of Christmas lights and Christmas sparkles that tickle my heart, flashing shop windows that reflect off the wet city streets, complimenting each other, it is like I am part of a New York City puzzle
And this is where dreams begin…
Pomalo
Mirno jutro
Kad su ribari sami u zaljevu
Čujem kako se brodić kreće
Pomalo
Smireno
Ribari šuškaju, i šapuću
Jadransko more
Moja omiljena boja
Čisto plavo
A prije nego što noć padne
S tim narančastim nebom
Koje udara zlato u moje srce
Ja ležim
Tiha glazba u daljini
S morskim povjetarcem koji čisti moju dušu
I ja lijepo sanjam
Marian Stella 7.1.26
Translation:
Pomalo (Dalmatian expression meaning to take it easy, slowly, slow down)
A peaceful morning, when the fishermen are alone in the bay, I listen to the boat move, slowly, calmly, the fishermen rustle & speak quietly
Adriatic Sea, my favourite colour, pure blue; and before the night falls with that orange sky that strikes gold in my heart
I lay down, quiet music in the distance, with a sea breeze that cleans my soul and I dream nicely
