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)