Pogodi kako se raste.
   Pogodi kako se lako
   stigne do krova,
   do laste,
   oblaka punog kise,
   do neke zvezde daleke
   i vise
   i jos vise
   u cudne visine plave.

   Pogodi da li kroz kragnu,
   kroz nogavice,
   rukave,
   dok neka snaga u tebi
   i neka lepota u tebi
   pravo do sunca vodi?

   Zazmuri pa pogodi.

   A moda nije ni vazno
   da se unapred setis.

   Mozda se najlepse raste
   kad nista ne primetis.
   Mozda se najlepse biva
   veci,
   jos veci,
   najveci,
   - cuteci
   sasvim cuteci,
   kroz neki tihi nemir
   sto se u tebi stvori,
   pa gori,
   beskrajno gori
   i nikako da izgori.

   I niko ne zna sta je.

   A on traje i traje.

   Miroslav Antic
 

   Guess how it is to grow.
   Guess how it is easy
   to get up to the roof,
   the swallow,
   the cloud full of storm,
   up to an unknown star
   and more
   and even more—
   up to some strangely blue skies.

   Guess, is it through a collar,
   through trousers
   or through sleeves—
   while some power inside you
   and some beauty inside you
   take you to the Sun's zest?

   Just close your eyes and guess.

   Yet, maybe it's not important
   to find that out in advance.

   Maybe it's the best way to grow
   when you don't notice or glance.
   Maybe it’s best to become
   tall,
   more tall,
   taller than all
   when you quietly roll,
   totally quiet roll—
   while some unknown excitement
   that inside you shouts
   burns,
   indefinitely burns,
   and never burns out.

   And no one knows what's that so vast.

   Yet, it continues to last.

   Miroslav Antic
   Translation: Dragana Konstantinovic
.