Who is Vasko Popa

Vasko Popa 1990. Vasile "Vasko" Popa (Serbian Cyrillic: Васко Попа; June 29, 1922 – January 5, 1991) was a Serbian poet of Romanian descent.

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Vasko Popa Poems

  • The Admirers Of The Little Box
    Sing little box

    Don't let sleep overtake you
    The world's awake within you ...
  • Wedding
    Each strips his own skin
    Each bares his own constellation
    Which has never seen the night
  • Far Within Us #1
    We raise our arms
    The street climbs into the sky
    We lower our eyes
    The roofs go down into the earth ...
  • Far Within Us #4
    Green gloves rustle
    On the avenue's branches

    The evening carries us under its arm ...
  • The Benefactors Of The Little Box
    We'll return the little box
    Into the arms
    Of her inconspicuously honest properties
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Top 10 most used topics by Vasko Popa

World 8 Earth 7 Face 6 Open 5 Sky 4 Head 4 Skin 4 Time 4 Walk 3 Game 3

Vasko Popa Quotes

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Comments about Vasko Popa

  • Op109: yawn of yawns by vasko popa
  • Rebirthinflames: "i'm no longer here. i haven't moved from the spot. but i'm not here now." - vasko popa
  • Henryachapman: the title of my next show comes from vasko popa’s poem prudent triangle. i’ve been reading more about him; this anecdote, which comes from a beautiful essay by one of his translators — the poet charles simic — is true of then and there as well as here and now:
  • Supamodu: from serbia: before he became a poetic powerhouse, vasko popa was a partisan and survived the german concentration camp in zrenjanin. the intricacy of popa’s poetry is enhanced by his many facets, from fierce fighter to patient student of folklore to dazzling surrealist.
  • Frithastrand: vasko popa is perhaps one of the best poets rarely mentioned in the usa, and charlie, his best translator.
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Poem of the day

George Meredith Poem
Modern Love Xxxii: Full Faith I Have
 by George Meredith

Full faith I have she holds that rarest gift
To beauty, Common Sense. To see her lie
With her fair visage an inverted sky
Bloom-covered, while the underlids uplift,
Would almost wreck the faith; but when her mouth
(Can it kiss sweetly? sweetly!) would address
The inner me that thirsts for her no less,
And has so long been languishing in drouth,

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