Days Without a Clock is a poem about deep silence. Some days have no joy. Some days have no sadness. This story, Days Without a Clock, looks at those empty moments. In my old job as an engineer, time was a machine. Everything was measured and fast. Now, I feel the weight of a silent phone. It is hard to stay alone with your thoughts. I wrote this for everyone who feels lonely sometimes.
We must face the silence to grow. It is a natural part of being human. You can learn more about how human emotions work in different environments. This poem, Days Without a Clock, explores the layers of our soul. Sometimes, we just need to breathe. We need to accept the quiet days. Below is my trilingual poem about the moments when time stops. I hope it brings you comfort and peace.
Dani bez sata
da dan prođe bez ijednog osjećaja?
Bez tuge. Bez sreće.
Bez ičega što biste mogli nazvati trenutkom.
koji plaču od jutra do večeri.
Dane bolesne,
teške u tijelu.
što se smiju
bez razloga,
od jutra do sutra.
bez osjećaja.
Bez tuge.
Bez sreće.
Dani bez sata.
Telefon šuti.
Svijet ne pita kako ste.
misli počnu govoriti glasnije.
Brojite ljude koje znate
i pitate se
zašto se niko ne sjeti.
na takve dane
nikad ne dođe poziv.
nije dosada ta koja boli,
nego tišina
u kojoj ostanete sami sa sobom.
Jours sans horloge
qu’un jour passe sans un seul sentiment ?
Sans tristesse. Sans bonheur.
Sans rien que vous puissiez appeler un moment.
qui pleurent du matin au soir.
Des jours malades,
lourds dans le corps.
qui rient
sans raison,
du matin au lendemain.
sans sentiments.
Sans tristesse.
Sans bonheur.
Les jours sans horloge.
Le téléphone se tait.
Le monde ne demande pas comment vous allez.
que les pensées commencent à parler plus fort.
Vous comptez les gens que vous connaissez
et vous vous demandez
pourquoi personne ne se souvient.
ces jours-là
l’appel ne vient jamais.
ce n’est pas l’ennui qui fait mal,
mais le silence
dans lequel vous restez seul avec vous-même.
Days Without a Clock
that a day passes without a single feeling?
Without sadness. Without happiness.
Without anything you could call a moment.
that cry from morning to evening.
Sick days,
heavy in the body.
that laugh
without reason,
from morning till tomorrow.
without feelings.
Without sadness.
Without happiness.
Days without a clock.
The phone is silent.
The world doesn’t ask how you are.
thoughts start speaking louder.
You count the people you know
and wonder
why no one remembers.
on such days
the call never comes.
it is not boredom that hurts,
but the silence
in which you remain alone with yourself.