Priča

Priča 

Sećam se samo da je bila

nevina i tanka

i da joj je kosa bila

topla, kao crna svila

u nedrima golim.

I da je u nama pre uranka

zamirisao bagrem beo.

Slučajno se setih neveseo

jer volim:

da sklopim oči i ćutim.

Kad bagrem dogodine zamiriše

ko zna gde ću biti.

U tišini slutim

da joj se imena ne mogu setiti

nikad više. 

San Vito, al Tagliamento, 1918.

RÉCIT

Je me souviens juste qu'elle fut

innocente et fine

et que sa chevelure fut

tiède, tel le noir tissu

dans les nus seins blêmes.

Et qu'en nous avant les matines

s'emparfuma l’acacia blanc.

Par hasard je me souvins tristement,

car j'aime :

fermer les yeux et rester tu.

Quand l'an prochain l'acacia aura parfumé,

qui sait où donc je serai :

je pressens en silence – vois-tu –

que de son nom je ne me souviendrai

plus jamais.

(Traduit par Kolja Mićević)

In Les Saluts slaves, Editions « Kolja Mićević »,

Paris-Belleville, 2002, p. 188.

Tale

I only remember that she was

a virgin and thin

and that her hair was

warm, like a black silk

between the bare breasts.

And that just before dawn

we were filled with

a smell of the locust white blooms.

By chance, I remembered joyless

as I love:

to close my eyes and be silent.

When the locust trees next year

spread their fragrance

who knows where I shall be.

I sense in silence

that I may never again

recall her name.

(translated by Božica Cvjetković)

A Story

I only remember that she was

Innocent and slender,

And that her hair was

Warm as black silk

In bosom bare.

And that before dawn the tender

Scent of the white locust imbued us.

All gloomy I recalled it by chance,

Because I love:

To close my eyes and keep silent.

Next year, when the locust spreads

Its scent, who knows where I will be.

In silence I feel

I will not be able to recall her name,

Ever again.

(Translation by: Ljiljana Parović)