Povratak

Ko zna (ah niko, niko ništa ne zna.

Krhko je znanje!)

Možda je pao trak istine u me,

A možda su sanje.

Još bi nam mogla desiti se ljubav,

Desiti - velim,

Ali ja ne znam, da li da je želim,

ili ne želim.

U moru života, što vječito kipi,

Što vječito hlapi,

Stvaraju se opet, sastaju se opet

Možda iste kapi -

I kad prođe vječnost zvjezdanijem putem,

Jedna vječnost pusta,

Mogla bi se opet u poljupcu naći

Neka ista usta.

Možda ćeš se jednom uveče pojavit

Prekrasna u plavom,

Ne sluteći, da si svoju svjetlost lila

Mojom davnom javom,

I ja, koji pišem srcem punim tebe

Ove čudne rime,

Oh, ja neću znati, čežnjo moje biti,

Niti tvoje ime!

Pa ako i duša u tome trenutku

Svoje uho napne,

Sigurnim će glasom zaglušiti razum

Sve, što slutnja šapne;

Kod večernjih lampa mi ćemo se kradom

Poglédat ko stranci,

Bez imalo svijesti, koliko nas vežu

Neki stari lanci.

No vrijeme se kreće, no vrijeme se kreće

Ko sunce u krugu,

I nosi nam opet ono, što je bilo;

I radost, i tugu.

I sinut će oči, naći će se ruke,

A srca se dići -

I slijepi za stope bivšega života

Njima ćemo ići.

- - - - - - - - - -

Ko zna (ah, niko, niko ništa ne zna.

Krhko je znanje!)

Možda je pao trak istine u me,

A možda su sanje.

Još bi nam mogla desiti se ljubav,

Desiti - velim,

Ali ja ne znam, da li da je želim,

Ili ne želim.

The Return

Who knows? Oh, no one really knows

for knowledge is frail to touch.

Perhaps, it is only a trail of truth,

like a sunray or just a dream. It would seem

that love still may happen to us, it might, I say,

but should I wish it or better say nay?

In this sea of life that constantly

turns around to vanish again

the same drops may be born

and meet again, when eternity

walks by on its starry path,

and the same lips in a short bliss

may touch and kiss.

It also may happen that you appear

one evening, so beautiful in blue,

not doubting that your light

already glowed in the times past,

and though I am tame writing these

lines, weirdly lame, filled with you

and my longing, I may never know

your name.

Even if the soul holds its breath

listening to that self assured voice

reason will be louder than

premonition’s murmur.

By the light of the lanterns we will

clandestinely cast a glance

like strangers with no sight

of comprehending how much

we still unite.

The time is spinning like the sun in its course

bestowing on us the same old joy

and sadness. The eyes will twinkle, the hands

touch, hearts will meet at first beat,

blind for the steps of former life

once so sweet, and we will succumb.

Who knows? We know nothing. Knowledge

is brittle and this may be just

a trace of truth, a sunray, or a dream.

Love could still happen, it may, I say,

but should I even wish for it or just say nay?

(Translated by Mirjana N. Radovanov Mataric, 2012 ©)

Return

Who knows (ah, no one, no one knows anything.

Knowledge is so frail!)

Perhaps a ray of truth fell on me,

Or perhaps I was dreaming.

Love may still happen to us,

Happen – I'd say,

Though I do not know whether to want it,

Or not want it, anyway.

In the sea of life that constantly boils,

That constantly evaporates,

Perhaps the same drops

Are re-created and reconciled.

All over again.

And when eternity

Passes on its starry path,

Its futile round.

The same lips may be again

In a passionate kiss found.

You may show up one night,

Beautiful in a blue dress.

Unaware that you poured your light

Over my ancient days.

And I, writing with heart full of you,

These strange rhymes,

Oh, I won't even know, yearning of my being,

Your name at times.

Even if the soul in that moment

Its ear strains,

With an assured voice the reason will silence

All premonition whispers.

By the evening lamp-posts we shall secretly

Like strangers at each other glance,

Without a slightest knowledge

How much we are linked

Through some old chains.

But time moves, time moves

Like the sun in its course,

And what was in the past to us returns:

The sorrows and the joys.

And the eyes will shine, hands will meet,

And the hearts will lift -

And blind to the footsteps of our former feet

Towards them we shall drift.