Posveta elegija
Posveta elegija
Glasnice predgorja kakvu pticu pod
srcem nosiš? Svet zamenjen okom
nad rekom zlo zaspala sanjaš i gorki plod
podneblja zagonetke nad svojim krvotokom
kad minulo vreme i jaz postaje svod
gorkih nam dana zabludelih tokom
zvezda pod kojim sam u zanosu pao.
Pašće sunce tamo gde sam ja klečao.
Progovorite seni slutim li prevaru
mutnoga potiljka. O tužni severu tela nebo od četiri vetra pretvori u paru
nad širom otvorenom vodom koja je raznela
tamu oka po celome telu. Žaru
neveseli kada pesme u meni pronađu
mračno obilje što me mori glađu.
Sve što imam to su naše reči
nad vodama što slute tajni splet
tokova kad otkrije vrh bol u meni gde kleči
pred mojom srži što sanja bezbolni cvet.
To što reku iz zemlje izgoni neka nas leči
kad hleb nam u kamen pretvori svet
kad ogledalo biva njeno mrtvo lice
za ptice krilatice iznad zle litice.
Glasnice predgorja kakvu pticu pod
srcem nosiš? Svet zamenjen okom
nad rekom zlo zaspala sanjaš i gorki plod
podneblja zagonetke nad svojim krvotokom
kad minulo vreme i jaz postaje svod
gorkih nam dana zabludelih tokom
zvezda pod kojim sam u zanosu pao.
Pašće sunce tamo gde sam ja klečao.
Dedication of elegies
Messenger of headland what a bird
under heart you carry? By an eye replaced the world
above the river tightly sleeping you dream
Bitter fruit of climate for riddles above your bloodstream
when dead time and a pit the dome become
of our bitter days in a lavish flow
of stars under which I fell in fervour.
Where I have kneeled the Sun shall fall.
Speak up shadows do I sense the deceit
of a bleary nape.Oh sad north of the body, sky of four winds, turn into vapour
over wide open water that delivers
over body whole the darkness of eyes. Flames
become joyless when poems in me find
the dark abundance that torture me starved.
All that I have is our words
over waters that suspect the dark splice of the flow
when heights discover pain in me kneeling before
my core that dreams the painless flower.
By that which banishes river from the earth, let us be cured
When world tuned our bread into stone
when mirror into her dead face turns
above evil cliff for the winged birds.
Messenger of headland what a bird
under heart you carry? By an eye replaced the world
above the river tightly sleeping you dream
Bitter fruit of climate for riddles above your bloodstream
when dead time and a pit the dome become
of our bitter days in a lavish flow
of stars under which I fell in fervour.
Where I have kneeled the Sun shall fall.
(Translated by Aleksandra Milanović)