Kari Šabanovi

Sjećanje me lakom tugom ovi:

... veče slazi i miriše lipa.

Kroz sumrak se čuje kolska škripa,

- s puta idu kari Šabanovi.

Mi u susret otrčimo k njima,

a kari nas vrate srećne kući

i sivom nas džadom truckajući

o pređenim šapću drumovima ...

... Mili dani, moji sni nestali,

kao da ste vi u jutro neko

na kare se kradom ukrcali

i otišli od mene daleko.

Zalud uho sad zvukove lovi,

zalud oko daljinama pipa:

davno više ne čuje se škripa

niti idu kari Šabanovi.

The memory lapped me with wistfulness:

...evening comes down with the fragrance of limes.

Through early dusk, far screech of carriage wheels,

- that's Šaban's carts, coming from their travels.

In order to meet them, we speed over,

we are happy on our home journey,

carts, jolting us along the grey roadway,

whisper about all the roads they covered.

...Dear days of mine, my dreams evaporated,

as if you had, on some morning, early,

boarded the carts stealthily, quietly

and left me for some place farthest removed.

In vain is the ear hunting for sounds,

in vain is eye feeling the distances,

for a long time you can't hear the screeches

and neither do the Šaban's cars make rounds.

(Translated by Slobodan Cekić)
Za Meju ♥

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