Lives Journal 4

Franko Bushich





Winter penetrates into the territory of nobody's kingdom. The winds drift piles of snow and cover up the entrances of bear-dens. There is no more difference between the cave and the mountain, between the mountain and the wind. Everything is white. Like a linen, like a fur of the prettiest pills swallowed before this vision ...


White night

on the white sky

after the white day


Icicles hang over the eyelashes of the white desert queen. She comes and calls me. Stretching a hand and looking firmly, she intrudes strongly upon the emptiness of my solitude. She wants to freeze my heart. She wants to steel my thoughts. The snow queen. The cold lady wrapped in black.


The queen of snow

extols the infinity

by her stilted beauty


Her crown is made of ice crystals. The necklace, belt –  are crystals made of ice. This jewellery being a mother substance in its firm shape makes this mistress of the poles even colder and more rigid. She is embraced by solidity of the ice firmness like a statue and I wonder when it will break down and scatter around like illusion created by my morbid mind.


Somebody died

posing a question

and knowing the answer


But no. She is not breaking herself. The vision is fixed. The lady calls me, the lady needs me. The snow queen wants to make the statue out of the blue-eyed boy for the front of her ice park in front of her ice castle.


Temptation fear

materialized in the

white powder


I am not sure if I will follow her, although my heart tells me so. I am not sure if I will follow her, although my instinct tells me there is no danger making me furious simultaneously. I am not sure if I will follow her although secretly I am longing for merging with her indifference.


Insecurity is

a proof that boy continues to

live in man


Indulgence, indulgence, indulgence is basis for drawing a lesson from vision, advises me my own higher self, so I said:

»Oh snow queen, the mistress of the ice infinity, tell me something.« My self-conceit, led by rationalism, takes the direction opposite of the one my heart has chosen. Reveal me a secret of your excellence, truly, sincerely – I want to hear it.


Disaster of many,

is eccentricity, is pride,

is impatience


Look, I got the answer echoing telepathically in little grey cells, accompanied by the whistle of wind. Cold is only what eye can see, the only information that eye transfers to the mind. Mind like a master, transfers the message to body that feels what it was instructed to. Exclude your mind and you will be able to live with me, in the ice infinity, without any fear that your human body will suffer.


Exclude your mind

even wolf

can experience satori



Translated from Croatian by Jagoda Copich




Slovenian (gajica)

Slovenian (bohorichica)