Ljudi se bude bez oružja

Ljudi se bude bez oružja

Ljudi ulaze u kuće.Otvaraju kutiju sećanja.

Zatvaraju svoje prozore

Onda još malo

Kao krišom

Gledaju kroz zavesu na asfalt u zaklaćeni krug

Bačen san eke lampe.

Iza reke

Ljudi ulaze u kolibe od blata

Malo povijenih leđa.

Slušaju

Tu negde iznad čela

Sad već samo

Pomalo

Igru vatre I trske.

Na utabanoj travi

Između naselja I grada čija su imena zagonetke

Koje neko postavlja

Vojnici

Tamni od sna

Slažu oštre piramide od pušaka.

Onda uhodaju u šator pognutih glava kao da

se klanjaju.

Inače

Svuda okolo

Ptice se pretvaraju u lišće.

Zmije I ribe se mimoilaze

Svako ka svome snu.

Vetar je svoju providnu kožu razapeo o

padinu brda

Čiji se profil topi u tamnom vazduhu.

Pod nebom

Počinje da traje iz korena

Jedno prekinuto sećanje svako na svome

uzglavlju.

Onda polako

Zvezde naviklim znakom najavljuju

Metamorfozu

I nevidljivo

Tiho se iza kulisa menjaju uloge.

Lišće se pretvara u ptice.

Zmije I pukotine se pomiču svaka ka svome

cvetu

Svaki cvet ka svom suncu.

Sad se već zna šta je vazduh

Šta nije.

To je već brdo u svojoj očiglednoj sigurnosti.

Vetar se odlepio I mili svoj prvi korak

Svoj nesigurni milimetar.

Inače

Svuda okolo

Pod krovom od lima

Pod krovom od trave ili od barske trske

Koja zviždi

Iza providnog stakla koje se osvetljava

U kamenim grudima zidova tako šarenim

Pola od sna I pola od kreča

Otvaraju se oči svih živih.

Mali

Ponovo nevini krugovi.

Trenutak je kratak I treba ga naprečac

Uhvatiti za uzde.

Ljudi se bude bez oružja.

The people awake unarmed

People enter their homes. They open memory boxes.

They shut their windows.

Then a little later

They peek

Through the curtains into the asphalt street

at swaying circles of light

Thrown by some lamp.

Beyond the river

People go into mud shacks.

Their backs are slightly bent.

They are listening

To something above their brows

The already

Faint

Play of wind and reeds.

On the trampled grass

Between settlement and town, whose names are riddles

Posed by someone,

Soldiers

Dark from dreaming

Stack their rifles in pointed pyramids.

They enter tents with their heads lowered as though

They are bowing.

Anyhow

All around

Birds are turning into leaves.

Snakes successfully imitate cracks in tree bark.

Water and fish bypass each other

Each to its own dream.

The wind has stretched its transparent skin

across the sloping hills

Whose profile melts in the dark air.

Under the heavens

An interrupted recollection flows once again from

Its roots

Each on its own pillow.

Then slowly

The stars signal a metamorphosis with the usual signs

And invisibly

Quietly exchange roles behind the scenes.

Leaves are transformed into birds.

Snakes and fissures move, each to its own flower

Each flower to its sun.

We already know what air is

And is not.

It is a mountain in its evident security.

The wind has come unglued and starts

Its uncertain millimeter.

Otherwise

All around

Under sheet metal roofs

Under grass roofs or roofs of whistling marsh reeds

Behind transparent glass beginning to light up

Within the stone torso of walls striped

With bands of dreams and whitewash

The eyes of the living are opening.

They are small

Innocent circles once again.

The moment is brief and must be seized by the reins.

The people awake unarmed.

[from Serbian Classics Press]