BIOGRAPHY, ANA DUDIC Croatia
Ana Dudic Zubcic lives and writes in Rijeka, Croatia. She graduated from the Faculty of Pharmacy and Biochemistry and works as a pharmacist. She started writing at an early age and won various school writing contests. Ana writes from the heart and never expected to see her poetry published. In 2016, however, her first collection of poetry, Woven of Love, was published by the Croatian Writers’ Association, and received the annual prize for the best book. In 2017 she published another collection of poetry, Exoticism of You and Colours, which was also nominated for the award. Her third poetry collection is ready to see the light of day.
She received numerous diplomas and acknowledgments, among which the one from Kvaka cultural magazine for World Poetry Day. At the international poetry competition in Romania in May 2019 she was awarded a medal and a diploma. On September 9, 2019, she participated at another international poetry festival in Bucharest and was awarded a medal and a diploma of excellence. On September 27 of the same year she attended the International Roma Festival in Belgrade and won the second prize, a trophy, a medal and a diploma. Her poems have appeared in forty international poetry collections and have been translated into English, Arabic, Romani and Italian. She participated at numerous festivals in Croatia and abroad, including the Poetry Olympiad. Ana loves writing and her work; she is a happy person.
MORNING OF MY MORNING
At sunrise, the sun goes out
Upon my arms,
Morning of my morning
Won’t come to me,
It falls asleep in you…
Do I write with tears
On a pillow of dreams
Or the day carried away all memories,
And little house at a crossroads of desires
Is now closed …
I wrote your name on sand,
A gentle breeze wiped it away,
I made a paper boat,
It became stranded on rocks.
I put a coin in a wishing well,
And it came out.
I smelled a blood red rose,
Passing by, casually,
And the rose got covered in tears…
I felt shackles,
Heavy shackles made of rose petals,
Tear shackles …
A kiss turned into hours of waiting
Makes my eyes hurt
From absence or oblivion…
The rose spilled last scent of pain,
Forget,
Forget while loving,
Try not to remember,
A paper boat will never sail away,
Your hand will not reach out for mine…
Street lamp on a corner goes out ,
The name of a stranger from a paper boat I forgot …
The morning of my morning appears,
The rose smelled intoxicating and I smiled
A new ray, a new life,
Restless wind is playing,
And the smell of you merges with the smell of roses …
WHITE CIRLES
She smelled like melancholy
And distant howling of winds…
On the garden glass
That divided imagination from reality
She was drawing circles,
White circles like dandelion flowers
Ready to be blown away…
Her voice echoed
In the midst of colours of upcoming spring
With no place for new colours
Of freshly bloomed saffron…
She glued herself into melted molecules
Attaching new chains in the bloodstream of life.
Sometimes she mixed eruptive mass
Hiding ingredients
And the glow of dilated pupils
Indicated that this moment was dedicated to him…
Suffocated by air devoid of oxygen,
She continued to breathe superficially,
Only to gather enough strength
To separate another white circle of imagination
From reality …
For him…
BLESSING OF THE SKY
I still wear summer in my hair
And aura of the sun,
I hear crickets singing far away
And taste sea on my lips.
In vain do they tell me autumn has arrived,
My wish is still the same,
Summer like.
I’ll leave the sky knock on windows,
As hope is born again
Timidly dropping down my naked shoulder…
I am reaching out
To be held by silence or his thoughts
United with mine…
My palms are on fire
As I receive holiness as a blessing of the sky.
The first autumn leaf burns in my hand
like a lightning flame…
I close my eyes for divine light
Not to erase his shadow,
Let my body feel his serenity
As we remain forever but a wish… a wish…
