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)