Balada ohridskim trubadurima
Balada ohridskim trubadurima Mudrosti, neiskusno sviću zore,
Na obične reči više nemam pravo!
Moje se srce gasi, oči gore.
Pevajte, divni starci, dok nad glavom
Rasprskavaju se zvezde kao metafore!
Što je visoko iščezne, što je nisko istruli.
Ptico, dovešću te do reči. Al vrati
Pozajmljeni plamen. Pepeo ne huli.
U tuđem smo srcu svoje srce čuli.
Isto je pevati i umirati.
Sunce je reč koja ne ume da sija.
Savest ne ume da peva, jer se boji
Osetljive praznine. Kradljivci vizija,
Orlovi, iznutra kljuju me. Ja stojim
Prikovan za stenu koja ne postoji.
Zvezdama smo potpisali prevaru
Nevidljive noći, tim crnje. Upamti
Taj pad u život ko dokaz tvom žaru.
Kad mastilo sazre u krv, svi će znati
Da isto je pevati i umirati
Mudrosti, jači će prvi posustati!
Samo nitkovi znaju šta je poezija,
Kradljivci vatre, nimalo umiljati,
Vezani za jarbol lađe koju prati
Podvodna pesma javom opasnija.
Onesvešćeno sunce u zrelom voću će znati
Da zameni poljubac što pepeo odmara.
Al niko posle nas neće imati
Snagu koja se slavujima udvara
Kad isto je pevati i umirati.
Smrtonosan je život, al smrti odoleva.
Jedna strašna bolest po meni će se zvati.
Mnogo smo patili. I, evo, sad peva
Pripitomljeni pakao. Nek srce ne okleva.
Isto je pevati i umirati.
A ballad for the troubadours of Ohrid
Wisdom, the dawns break with unskilled rays
No longer do I have the right to plain words
My heart dims, my eyes are ablaze.
Sing, great elders, while above with the birds
Stars, as metaphors do, now spray!
The lowly rots, the lofty fades away.
Bird, I’ll lead you to words, but honor the ash, do aim
To give back the borrowed flame.
In another’s heart, we’ve heard our own exclaim,
That to sing and to die is one and the same.
The sun is a glowless word.
Conscience can’t sing, for it’s afraid
Of the sensitive void. Vicious birds,
Thieves of visions, peck at my insides. I am chained
To a nonexistent rock, nailed, I stay.
It’s that much blacker, for we’ve signed this deceit
With the stars of an invisible night. Do retain
That descent into life as witness to your heat.
When the ink ripens into blood, the knowledge remains
That to sing and to die is one and the same.
Wisdom, the stronger will be the first to fail!
Only lowlifes know the meaning of poetry,
Thieves of fire, not at all frail,
Tied to the mast of a ship being tailed
By a submarine song, more dangerous by reality.
Once it's left the ripe fruit, the sun aswoon is entailed
To take the place the ash-resting kiss forsakes.
But the power courting the nightingales
None other will have in our wake.
When to sing and to die is one and the same.
Life is lethal, yet keeps death at bay.
A horrid disease will bear my name.
We’ve suffered greatly. Heed now the lay
Of an Inferno tamed. May the heart not delay.
To sing and to die is one and the same.
(translated by Gavrilo Stanojevic)