Isus čita novine

Isus čita novine

Znam, dobri moj Isuse, kad jedne kiše duge

donesem ti za večeru hljeb skriven pod skut,

ulazeći u sobu, vijdet ću pun tuge

tvoj sveti lik nad novine nagnut.

I nezapažen kraj tebe ću sjesti,

gledajući mračenje na tvome licu čistom.

Dok pogledom prelijećeš od vijesti do vijesti.

Dok uzbuđeno prevrćeš list za listom.

Čime ću moći da te tješim u tom času,

stojeći pred tobom, sav stidom obuzet?

I da li bih imao dosta snage u svom glasu,

kada bih pred tobom branio ovaj svijet?

Na teška slova pao bih svojim stasom malim.

Radost čovjeka bi u oku mom zasjala.

O pusti, rekao bih ti jedva glasom uzdrhtalim,

nek se i dalje vrti naša zemlja mala.

Onda bih sasvim tiho izišo pred vrata.

I pustio da ostaneš sam u svome bolu.

Moleći pred pragom da tvoj gnjev umiri

mirisni, blagi kruh na stolu.

Jesus Reading the Papers

I know, my kind Jesus, when in a long rain

I bring you bread for supper under my coat,

entering the room I will see you full of pain,

your holy form over the paper bent.

Unnoticed by you I shall sit,

watch darkening of your pure face,

while you scan one and another news bit,

while agitated you turn page after page.

How could I console you then,

full of shame before you standing?

And would my voice be forceful again

in your presence this world defending?

On heavy lines my tiny frame would fall.

Human joy in my eye burning.

Oh, I would in an almost steady voice tell,

let our little globe keep on turning.

I would exit very quietly then

leaving you alone in your distress

praying at the threshold your anger to be calmed

by, on the table, fragrant bread’s mildness.

(Translated by Zvonimir Radeljković © 2010 Zvonimir Radeljković)