Član
- Učlanjen(a)
- 09.08.2009
- Poruka
- 362
Serbian Lyric Poetry
(Serbian Cyrillic: Десанка Максимовић) (May 16, 1898 – February 11, 1993) was a Serbian poet, professor of literature, and a member of Serbian Academy of Sciences and Arts.
Desanka Maksimović died on February 11, 1993, in Belgrade, at the age of 95. She was buried in Brankovina, where she grew up.
KRVAVA BAJKA
Bilo je to u nekoj zemlji seljaka
na brdovitom balkanu,
umrla je mucenickom smrcu
ceta djaka
u jednom danu.
Iste su godine
svi bili rodjeni,
isti su im tekli skolski dani,
na iste svecanosti
zajedno su vodjeni,
od istih bolesti svi pelcovani,
i svi umrli u istom danu.
Bilo je to u nekoj zemlji seljaka
na brdovitom Balkanu,
umrla je mucenickom smrcu
ceta djaka
u jednom danu.
A pedeset i pet minuta
pre smrtnog trena
sedela je u djackoj klupi
ceta malena
i iste zadatke teske
resavala: koliko moze
putnik ako ide peske...
i tako redom.
Misli su im bile pune
istih brojki
i po sveskama u skolskoj torbi
besmislenih lezalo bezbroj
petica i dvojki.
Pregrst istih snova
i istih tajni
rodoljubivih i ljubavnih
stiskalo se u dnu dzepova.
I cinilo se svakom
da ce dugo,
da ce vrlo dugo
trcati ispod svoda plava
dok sve zadatke na svetu
ne posvrsava.
Bilo je to u nekoj zemlji seljaka
na brdovitom Balkanu,
umrla je mucenickom smrcu
ceta djaka
u istom danu.
Decaka redova celi
uzeli su se za ruke
i sa skolskog zadnjeg casa
na streljanje posli mirno
kao da smrt nije nista.
Drugova redovi celi
istog casa se uzneli
do vecnog boravista.
BLOODY FAIRY TALE
It happened in a land of farmers on hilly Balkan
far, far away;
a troop of students
died martyred
on one single day.
They were all born
in the same year.
For all of them, the school days were the same:
They were all taken
to the same festivals with cheer,
they were all vaccinated
until the last name,
and they all died on the same day.
It happened in a land of farmers on hilly Balkan
far, far away;
a troop of students
died martyred
on one single day.
And only fifty-five minutes
prior the death moment,
a small troop of fidgets
sat beside their school desks
solving the same hard math quest:
“If a traveler goes by foot,
how much time he needs to rest...”
and so on.
Their thoughts were filled
with same figures and tags
and there was a countless amount
of senseless As and Fs
in their notebooks and in their bags.
They were squeezing
a whole bunch of secrets that mattered--
either patriotic or a love letter--
on the bottom of their pockets.
And everyone of them supposed
that he would for a long time,
for a very, very long time
run under the blue sky--
until all math quests on the world
were done and gone by.
It happened in a land of farmers on hilly Balkan
far, far away;
a troop of students
died martyred
on the same day.
Whole rows of boys
took each other’s hands
and leaving the last school class
went to the execution quietly,
as the death was nothing but a smile.
All friends in rows were,
at the same moment,
lifted up to the eternal domicile.
PREDOSECANJE
Poznala sam te kad sneg se topi
topi, i duva vetar mlak
blizina proleća dušu mi opi,
opi, pa žudno udisah zrak.
S nežnošću gledah stopa ti trag,
trag po snegu belom,
i znadoh da ćeš biti mi drag
drag u životu celom.
Poznala sam te u zvonak dan
dan pijan, svež i mek.
činja mi se već davno znan,
znan kad te poznadoh tek.
S nežnošću gledah stopa ti trag
trag na snegu belom
i znadoh da ćeš biti mi drag
drag u životu celom.
Poznala sam te kad kopni led
led, dok se budi proletnji dah kad
dan je čas rumen, čas setan,
bled, kad sretno se i tužno u isti mah.
S nežnošću gledah stopa ti trag,
trag po snegu belom
i znadoh da ćeš biti mi drag,
drag u životu celom.
PREMONITION
I recognized you when snow was melting
melting, and a soft wind blowing
closeness of spring intoxicating my soul
intoxicating, so I cravingly inhale the air.
With gentleness I watched your footsteps trace
trace on white snow
and I knew that you would be dear to me
dear throughout my life.
I recognized you on a reverberant day
a drunk, fresh and soft day
I had a feeling I’d always known you
known though I just recognized you.
With gentleness I watched your footsteps trace
trace on white snow
and I knew that you would be dear to me
dear throughout my life.
I recognized you when ice was melting
ice, when spring breath is melting when
day is one moment rosy, one moment wistful
pale, when happiness and sadness collide.
With gentleness I watched your footsteps trace
trace on white snow
and I knew that you would be dear to me
dear throughout my life.
STREPNJA
Ne, nemoj mi prici! Hocu izdaleka
da volim i zelim oka tvoja dva.
Jer sreca je lepa samo dok se ceka,
dok od sebe samo nagovestaj da.
Ne, nemoj mi prici! Ima vise drazi
ova slatka strepnja, cekanje i stra'.
Sve je mnogo lepse donde dok se trazi,
o cemu se samo tek po slutnji zna.
Ne, nemoj mi prici! Zasto to, i cemu?
Izdaleka samo sve k'o zvezda sja;
izdaleka samo divimo se svemu.
Ne, nek' mi ne pridju oka tvoja dva.
APPREHENSION
No… don’t come to me! I want to adore
and love your two eyes from far, far away.
For, happiness’s beau just while waiting for
when only allusion comes out of its way.
No… don’t come to me! There is more allure
in waiting with sweet apprehension, fear.
Just while seeking out everything is pure;
It’s nicer when just foreboding is near.
No… don’t come to me! Why that, and what for?
Only from afar all stars spark and glee;
Only from afar we admire all.
No… let not your eyes come closer to me.
OPRAVDANJE
Srce moje misli večito
neku tužnu misao.
I ma šta sa mnom bilo:
budem li kome postala
žena verna,
ili dragana čija,
ili ma šta drugo;
ili budem uvek smerna
sanjalica ostala.
Bude li duša moja sveto sedište
jedne ljubavi;
ili srce moje bolno središte
svih nežnosti,
ti mene uvek voli:
Jer srce moje misli večito
neku tužnu misao
što mene jedino boli.
I ma čega da se latim,
plemenitog ili zlog:
mognem li zbog drugih da patim,
ili budem neku sreću srca svog
tuđim bolom kupila;
budem li katkad praštala,
ili se budem uvek svetila,
znaj da sam grehove sve
već davno iskupila,
znaj da sam već davno
zbog svega ispaštala,
i uvek mi oprosti:
Jer srce moje misli večito
neku tužnu misao
što mene jedino žalosti.
EXCUSE
My heart always thinks of
a sad thought.
And no matter what happens to me:
if I become someone’s
faithful wife,
or somebody’s sweetheart,
or whatever else;
or if I always remain
a humble dreamer.
If my soul becomes a sacred habitat
of a love;
or my heart a painful core
of all gentleness,
you should always love me;
Because my heart always thinks of
a sad thought
that hurts only me.
And whatever I start,
noble or wicked:
if I manage to grieve for others,
or if I buy a happiness for my soul
with somebody else’s pain;
if I sometimes forgive,
or I always vengeance,
you should know that I have long ago,
paid the price for all my sins,
you should know that I have long ago,
made penance for everything,
and you should always forgive me:
Because my heart always thinks of
a sad thought
that makes only me sad.
PROLECNA PESMA
Osecam veceras, dok posmatram laste,
i pupoljke rane,
kako srce moje polagano raste,
k'o vidik u lepe, nasmejane dane.
Kako s mladim biljem postaje sve vece,
i lako k'o krilo,
i kako mu celo jedno nebo srece,
i pakao bola ne bi dosta bilo.
Kako cezne za svim sto bi zivot mog'o
lepog da mu dade,
i da mu nicega ne bi bilo mnogo,
tako su mu velike ceznje mu i nade.
Osecam , da dosad sve je bilo sala,
moga srca vrela,
da jos nikom nisam ljubav svoju dala,
koliko bih mogla i koliko bih htela.
Da ima u meni cela nezna plima,
reci nereceni'
da bih srce mogla poklanjati svima,
i da opet mnogo ostane ga meni.
SPRING POEM
While watching all these early buds and swallows,
I can feel tonight
that my heart’s slowly growing over sorrows
as someone’s horizon on smiley days might;
That it’s getting bigger like all plants around
and as light as feather,
and that all happiness that’s above the ground
and a Hell of pain wouldn’t really matter:
It’s longing for all things that a life as such
could give nice to thy,
and completely nothing wouldn’t be too much
it’s eager desire and hopes are so high.
Everything that’s happened has been just a play
of my heart on fire;
my true love has never been given away
as much as I could and as I desire;
There are, in my deeps, gentle tides of words
never let outside;
I could give my heart to everyone on world,
yet, it would remain a lot of it inside.
OPOMENA
Cuj, recu cu ti svoju tajnu:
ne ostavljaj me nikad samu
kad neko svira.
Mogu mi se uciniti
duboke i meke
oci neke
sasvim obicne.
Moze mi se uciniti
da tonem u zvuke,
pa cu ruke
svakom pruziti.
Moze mi se uciniti
lepo i lako
voleti kratko
za jedan dan.
Ili mogu kom reci u tome
casu cudesno sjajnu
predragu mi tajnu
koliko te volim.
O, ne ostavljaj me nikad samu
kad neko svira.
Ucinice mi se negde u sumi
ponovo sve moje suze teku
kroz samonikle neke cesme.
Ucinice mi se crn leptir jedan
po teskoj vodi krilom sara
sto nekad neko reci mi ne sme.
Ucinice mi se negde kroz tamu
neko peva i gorkim cvetom
u neprebolnu ranu srca dira.
O, ne ostavljaj me nikad samu,
nikad samu,
kad neko svira.
WARNING
Listen, I'll tell you my secret:
Never leave me alone
when music plays.
It could seem to me
that some eyes gray
are so deep and soft,
the eyes that are actually plain.
It could seem to me
that I dive into the sound
and I could give my hands
to anyone around.
It could seem to me
so easy, so gay
to love someone
for only one day.
Or, I could tell someone
my dearest,
magically growing secret
how much I love you.
Oh, never leave me alone
when music plays.
It could seem to me that again,
somewhere in a forest,
my tears flow through a new well.
It could seem to me that a black butterfly
makes patterns on heavy water
those that no one feels free to tell.
It could seem to me that somewhere in the dark zone
someone sings and with a bitter flower
touches my heart where the incurable wound stays.
Oh, never leave me alone,
never alone,
when music plays.
NEMAM VISE VREMENA
Nemam više vremena za duge rečenice,
nemam kad ne pregovaram,
otkucavam poruke kao telegrame.
Nemam vremena da raspirujem plamen,
sad zaprećem šake zgorela žara.
Nemam više vremena za hodočašća,
naglo se smanjuje putanja do ušća,
nemam kad da se osvrćem i vraćam.
Nemam više vremena za sitnice,
sad treba misliti na večno i neobuhvatno.
Nemam kad da razmišljam na raskrsnici,
mogu stići jedino kudgod u blizinu.
Nemam vremena da išta izučavam,
nemam vremena sad za analize,
za mene je voda sada samo voda
kao da sam je pila sa kladenca;
nemam kad da razlažem na sastojke nebo,
vidim ga onakvo kakvo ga vide deca.
Nemam više vremena za bogove tuđe,
ni svoga nisam dobro upoznala.
Nemam kad da usvajam zapovesti nove,
mnogo mi je i starih deset zapovesti.
Nemam više kad da se pridružujem
ni onima koji istinu dokazuju.
Nemam kad da se borim protiv hajkača.
Nemam kad da sanjam, da lagano koračam.
I DON'T HAVE ANY MORE TIME
I don’t have any more time for long sentences,
I have no time for negotiations,
I type messages like telegrams,
I don’t have time to ignite flame,
now I bury handfuls of dying fire.
I don’t have any more time for pilgrimage,
the path to estuary is suddenly getting shorter,
I have no time to look back and return,
I don’t have any more time for small things,
Now is time to think about eternal and unembraceable.
I have no time to think on crossroads,
I can arrive only somewhere close.
I don’t have time to study anything,
now I don’t have time for analysis,
for me water is just water
as if I had drank it from a well;
I have no time to split the sky into pieces,
I see it as children see it.
I don’t have any more time for foreign gods,
I haven’t even got to know mine well.
I have no time to adopt new commandments,
the old ten are already too much for me.
I don’t have any more time to join
those that are proving the truth.
I have no time to fight against chasers.
I have no time to dream, to walk slowly.
Trazim Pomilovanje
ZA NAIVNE
Za one kojima se cini
da su jednaki
siromah i bogati,
slab i jaki,
nesudjen i onaj koji se sa robije vrati,
bezruki i covek s rukama obema,
miropomazni i odlucen od vere,
zvani
i onaj sto pred vratima ceka,
za njih, za sebe,
za svakoga coveka
trazim pomilovanje.
I seek amnesty
FOR THE NAIVE
For those who believe
that all are equal,
poor and rich,
weak and strong,
the untired and the untiring prisoner,
the armless and the man with both arms,
the absolved and the man who has lost his faith,
the invited
and the one who waits at the door,
for them, for myself,
for everyone,
I seek amnesty.
Desanka Maksimović
(Serbian Cyrillic: Десанка Максимовић) (May 16, 1898 – February 11, 1993) was a Serbian poet, professor of literature, and a member of Serbian Academy of Sciences and Arts.
Biography
Desanka Maksimović was born on May 16, 1898 in Rabrovica, near Valjevo, the oldest child of father Mihailo, a teacher, and mother Draginja. Right after her birth, her father was transferred, and they moved to Brankovina, where Desanka spent her childhood. She graduated from the gymnasium in Valjevo and the Faculty of Philosophy at the Belgrade University.
In August 1933 she married Sergij Slastikov, but they had no children of their own.
Desanka was a professor of Serbian language from 1923 until 1953 in several schools. First, she was a teacher at the Obrenovac gymnasium, then she moved to the Third Female Gymnasium in Belgrade. Eventually, she was transferred to the teachers' school in Dubrovnik, where she spent one year. After that, she worked in First female gymnasium in Belgrade. One of her best students was Mira Alečković, who also became a poet and a close friend of Desanka Maksimović.
When she heard of German soldiers shooting primary school children in Kragujevac, she wrote "Krvava Bajka" (trans. "The Legend of Blood" or, more literally "A Bloody Fairy Tale"), a poem that speaks of the terror practiced by German army in World War II. The poem was not published until after the war had ended.
She traveled across Yugoslavia, and befriended writers and poets such as Miloš Crnjanski, Ivo Andrić, Gustav Krklec, Isidora Sekulić, and Branko Ćopić.
Her poetry spoke about love and patriotism; it was enthusiastic and youthful, yet serious and sensitive. It is said that the Serbian language is best sung in the poems of Desanka Maksimović. Some of her best poems include: "Anticipation" ("Предосећање"), "Tremble" ("Стрепња"), "Spring poem" ("Пролећна песма"), "Warning" ("Опомена"), "In storm" ("На бури"), "I seek amnesty" ("Тражим помиловање"), "Sheared meadow" ("Покошена ливада") etc.
Desanka won a number of literature awards among them Vuk Award, Njegoš Award (1984) and AVNOJ Award. She was elected as honorary citizen of Valjevo.
In 1985, the primary school in Brankovina, where she began her education, was reconstructed. It was in this school that her father worked as teacher. Local people called it "Desanka's school", and that is now its official name.
While she was still alive, a statue of her was built in Valjevo, although she objected to it.
Because of the undying value of her poetry, Desanka Maksimović was elected on December 17, 1959 as an associate member of the Serbian Academy of Sciences and Arts (SANU), and on December 16, 1965 she became a regular member.
Desanka was a professor of Serbian language from 1923 until 1953 in several schools. First, she was a teacher at the Obrenovac gymnasium, then she moved to the Third Female Gymnasium in Belgrade. Eventually, she was transferred to the teachers' school in Dubrovnik, where she spent one year. After that, she worked in First female gymnasium in Belgrade. One of her best students was Mira Alečković, who also became a poet and a close friend of Desanka Maksimović.
When she heard of German soldiers shooting primary school children in Kragujevac, she wrote "Krvava Bajka" (trans. "The Legend of Blood" or, more literally "A Bloody Fairy Tale"), a poem that speaks of the terror practiced by German army in World War II. The poem was not published until after the war had ended.
She traveled across Yugoslavia, and befriended writers and poets such as Miloš Crnjanski, Ivo Andrić, Gustav Krklec, Isidora Sekulić, and Branko Ćopić.
Her poetry spoke about love and patriotism; it was enthusiastic and youthful, yet serious and sensitive. It is said that the Serbian language is best sung in the poems of Desanka Maksimović. Some of her best poems include: "Anticipation" ("Предосећање"), "Tremble" ("Стрепња"), "Spring poem" ("Пролећна песма"), "Warning" ("Опомена"), "In storm" ("На бури"), "I seek amnesty" ("Тражим помиловање"), "Sheared meadow" ("Покошена ливада") etc.
Desanka won a number of literature awards among them Vuk Award, Njegoš Award (1984) and AVNOJ Award. She was elected as honorary citizen of Valjevo.
In 1985, the primary school in Brankovina, where she began her education, was reconstructed. It was in this school that her father worked as teacher. Local people called it "Desanka's school", and that is now its official name.
While she was still alive, a statue of her was built in Valjevo, although she objected to it.
Because of the undying value of her poetry, Desanka Maksimović was elected on December 17, 1959 as an associate member of the Serbian Academy of Sciences and Arts (SANU), and on December 16, 1965 she became a regular member.
Desanka Maksimović died on February 11, 1993, in Belgrade, at the age of 95. She was buried in Brankovina, where she grew up.
Bilo je to u nekoj zemlji seljaka
na brdovitom balkanu,
umrla je mucenickom smrcu
ceta djaka
u jednom danu.
Iste su godine
svi bili rodjeni,
isti su im tekli skolski dani,
na iste svecanosti
zajedno su vodjeni,
od istih bolesti svi pelcovani,
i svi umrli u istom danu.
Bilo je to u nekoj zemlji seljaka
na brdovitom Balkanu,
umrla je mucenickom smrcu
ceta djaka
u jednom danu.
A pedeset i pet minuta
pre smrtnog trena
sedela je u djackoj klupi
ceta malena
i iste zadatke teske
resavala: koliko moze
putnik ako ide peske...
i tako redom.
Misli su im bile pune
istih brojki
i po sveskama u skolskoj torbi
besmislenih lezalo bezbroj
petica i dvojki.
Pregrst istih snova
i istih tajni
rodoljubivih i ljubavnih
stiskalo se u dnu dzepova.
I cinilo se svakom
da ce dugo,
da ce vrlo dugo
trcati ispod svoda plava
dok sve zadatke na svetu
ne posvrsava.
Bilo je to u nekoj zemlji seljaka
na brdovitom Balkanu,
umrla je mucenickom smrcu
ceta djaka
u istom danu.
Decaka redova celi
uzeli su se za ruke
i sa skolskog zadnjeg casa
na streljanje posli mirno
kao da smrt nije nista.
Drugova redovi celi
istog casa se uzneli
do vecnog boravista.
BLOODY FAIRY TALE
It happened in a land of farmers on hilly Balkan
far, far away;
a troop of students
died martyred
on one single day.
They were all born
in the same year.
For all of them, the school days were the same:
They were all taken
to the same festivals with cheer,
they were all vaccinated
until the last name,
and they all died on the same day.
It happened in a land of farmers on hilly Balkan
far, far away;
a troop of students
died martyred
on one single day.
And only fifty-five minutes
prior the death moment,
a small troop of fidgets
sat beside their school desks
solving the same hard math quest:
“If a traveler goes by foot,
how much time he needs to rest...”
and so on.
Their thoughts were filled
with same figures and tags
and there was a countless amount
of senseless As and Fs
in their notebooks and in their bags.
They were squeezing
a whole bunch of secrets that mattered--
either patriotic or a love letter--
on the bottom of their pockets.
And everyone of them supposed
that he would for a long time,
for a very, very long time
run under the blue sky--
until all math quests on the world
were done and gone by.
It happened in a land of farmers on hilly Balkan
far, far away;
a troop of students
died martyred
on the same day.
Whole rows of boys
took each other’s hands
and leaving the last school class
went to the execution quietly,
as the death was nothing but a smile.
All friends in rows were,
at the same moment,
lifted up to the eternal domicile.
PREDOSECANJE
Poznala sam te kad sneg se topi
topi, i duva vetar mlak
blizina proleća dušu mi opi,
opi, pa žudno udisah zrak.
S nežnošću gledah stopa ti trag,
trag po snegu belom,
i znadoh da ćeš biti mi drag
drag u životu celom.
Poznala sam te u zvonak dan
dan pijan, svež i mek.
činja mi se već davno znan,
znan kad te poznadoh tek.
S nežnošću gledah stopa ti trag
trag na snegu belom
i znadoh da ćeš biti mi drag
drag u životu celom.
Poznala sam te kad kopni led
led, dok se budi proletnji dah kad
dan je čas rumen, čas setan,
bled, kad sretno se i tužno u isti mah.
S nežnošću gledah stopa ti trag,
trag po snegu belom
i znadoh da ćeš biti mi drag,
drag u životu celom.
PREMONITION
I recognized you when snow was melting
melting, and a soft wind blowing
closeness of spring intoxicating my soul
intoxicating, so I cravingly inhale the air.
With gentleness I watched your footsteps trace
trace on white snow
and I knew that you would be dear to me
dear throughout my life.
I recognized you on a reverberant day
a drunk, fresh and soft day
I had a feeling I’d always known you
known though I just recognized you.
With gentleness I watched your footsteps trace
trace on white snow
and I knew that you would be dear to me
dear throughout my life.
I recognized you when ice was melting
ice, when spring breath is melting when
day is one moment rosy, one moment wistful
pale, when happiness and sadness collide.
With gentleness I watched your footsteps trace
trace on white snow
and I knew that you would be dear to me
dear throughout my life.
STREPNJA
Ne, nemoj mi prici! Hocu izdaleka
da volim i zelim oka tvoja dva.
Jer sreca je lepa samo dok se ceka,
dok od sebe samo nagovestaj da.
Ne, nemoj mi prici! Ima vise drazi
ova slatka strepnja, cekanje i stra'.
Sve je mnogo lepse donde dok se trazi,
o cemu se samo tek po slutnji zna.
Ne, nemoj mi prici! Zasto to, i cemu?
Izdaleka samo sve k'o zvezda sja;
izdaleka samo divimo se svemu.
Ne, nek' mi ne pridju oka tvoja dva.
APPREHENSION
No… don’t come to me! I want to adore
and love your two eyes from far, far away.
For, happiness’s beau just while waiting for
when only allusion comes out of its way.
No… don’t come to me! There is more allure
in waiting with sweet apprehension, fear.
Just while seeking out everything is pure;
It’s nicer when just foreboding is near.
No… don’t come to me! Why that, and what for?
Only from afar all stars spark and glee;
Only from afar we admire all.
No… let not your eyes come closer to me.
OPRAVDANJE
Srce moje misli večito
neku tužnu misao.
I ma šta sa mnom bilo:
budem li kome postala
žena verna,
ili dragana čija,
ili ma šta drugo;
ili budem uvek smerna
sanjalica ostala.
Bude li duša moja sveto sedište
jedne ljubavi;
ili srce moje bolno središte
svih nežnosti,
ti mene uvek voli:
Jer srce moje misli večito
neku tužnu misao
što mene jedino boli.
I ma čega da se latim,
plemenitog ili zlog:
mognem li zbog drugih da patim,
ili budem neku sreću srca svog
tuđim bolom kupila;
budem li katkad praštala,
ili se budem uvek svetila,
znaj da sam grehove sve
već davno iskupila,
znaj da sam već davno
zbog svega ispaštala,
i uvek mi oprosti:
Jer srce moje misli večito
neku tužnu misao
što mene jedino žalosti.
EXCUSE
My heart always thinks of
a sad thought.
And no matter what happens to me:
if I become someone’s
faithful wife,
or somebody’s sweetheart,
or whatever else;
or if I always remain
a humble dreamer.
If my soul becomes a sacred habitat
of a love;
or my heart a painful core
of all gentleness,
you should always love me;
Because my heart always thinks of
a sad thought
that hurts only me.
And whatever I start,
noble or wicked:
if I manage to grieve for others,
or if I buy a happiness for my soul
with somebody else’s pain;
if I sometimes forgive,
or I always vengeance,
you should know that I have long ago,
paid the price for all my sins,
you should know that I have long ago,
made penance for everything,
and you should always forgive me:
Because my heart always thinks of
a sad thought
that makes only me sad.
PROLECNA PESMA
Osecam veceras, dok posmatram laste,
i pupoljke rane,
kako srce moje polagano raste,
k'o vidik u lepe, nasmejane dane.
Kako s mladim biljem postaje sve vece,
i lako k'o krilo,
i kako mu celo jedno nebo srece,
i pakao bola ne bi dosta bilo.
Kako cezne za svim sto bi zivot mog'o
lepog da mu dade,
i da mu nicega ne bi bilo mnogo,
tako su mu velike ceznje mu i nade.
Osecam , da dosad sve je bilo sala,
moga srca vrela,
da jos nikom nisam ljubav svoju dala,
koliko bih mogla i koliko bih htela.
Da ima u meni cela nezna plima,
reci nereceni'
da bih srce mogla poklanjati svima,
i da opet mnogo ostane ga meni.
SPRING POEM
While watching all these early buds and swallows,
I can feel tonight
that my heart’s slowly growing over sorrows
as someone’s horizon on smiley days might;
That it’s getting bigger like all plants around
and as light as feather,
and that all happiness that’s above the ground
and a Hell of pain wouldn’t really matter:
It’s longing for all things that a life as such
could give nice to thy,
and completely nothing wouldn’t be too much
it’s eager desire and hopes are so high.
Everything that’s happened has been just a play
of my heart on fire;
my true love has never been given away
as much as I could and as I desire;
There are, in my deeps, gentle tides of words
never let outside;
I could give my heart to everyone on world,
yet, it would remain a lot of it inside.
OPOMENA
Cuj, recu cu ti svoju tajnu:
ne ostavljaj me nikad samu
kad neko svira.
Mogu mi se uciniti
duboke i meke
oci neke
sasvim obicne.
Moze mi se uciniti
da tonem u zvuke,
pa cu ruke
svakom pruziti.
Moze mi se uciniti
lepo i lako
voleti kratko
za jedan dan.
Ili mogu kom reci u tome
casu cudesno sjajnu
predragu mi tajnu
koliko te volim.
O, ne ostavljaj me nikad samu
kad neko svira.
Ucinice mi se negde u sumi
ponovo sve moje suze teku
kroz samonikle neke cesme.
Ucinice mi se crn leptir jedan
po teskoj vodi krilom sara
sto nekad neko reci mi ne sme.
Ucinice mi se negde kroz tamu
neko peva i gorkim cvetom
u neprebolnu ranu srca dira.
O, ne ostavljaj me nikad samu,
nikad samu,
kad neko svira.
WARNING
Listen, I'll tell you my secret:
Never leave me alone
when music plays.
It could seem to me
that some eyes gray
are so deep and soft,
the eyes that are actually plain.
It could seem to me
that I dive into the sound
and I could give my hands
to anyone around.
It could seem to me
so easy, so gay
to love someone
for only one day.
Or, I could tell someone
my dearest,
magically growing secret
how much I love you.
Oh, never leave me alone
when music plays.
It could seem to me that again,
somewhere in a forest,
my tears flow through a new well.
It could seem to me that a black butterfly
makes patterns on heavy water
those that no one feels free to tell.
It could seem to me that somewhere in the dark zone
someone sings and with a bitter flower
touches my heart where the incurable wound stays.
Oh, never leave me alone,
never alone,
when music plays.
NEMAM VISE VREMENA
Nemam više vremena za duge rečenice,
nemam kad ne pregovaram,
otkucavam poruke kao telegrame.
Nemam vremena da raspirujem plamen,
sad zaprećem šake zgorela žara.
Nemam više vremena za hodočašća,
naglo se smanjuje putanja do ušća,
nemam kad da se osvrćem i vraćam.
Nemam više vremena za sitnice,
sad treba misliti na večno i neobuhvatno.
Nemam kad da razmišljam na raskrsnici,
mogu stići jedino kudgod u blizinu.
Nemam vremena da išta izučavam,
nemam vremena sad za analize,
za mene je voda sada samo voda
kao da sam je pila sa kladenca;
nemam kad da razlažem na sastojke nebo,
vidim ga onakvo kakvo ga vide deca.
Nemam više vremena za bogove tuđe,
ni svoga nisam dobro upoznala.
Nemam kad da usvajam zapovesti nove,
mnogo mi je i starih deset zapovesti.
Nemam više kad da se pridružujem
ni onima koji istinu dokazuju.
Nemam kad da se borim protiv hajkača.
Nemam kad da sanjam, da lagano koračam.
I DON'T HAVE ANY MORE TIME
I don’t have any more time for long sentences,
I have no time for negotiations,
I type messages like telegrams,
I don’t have time to ignite flame,
now I bury handfuls of dying fire.
I don’t have any more time for pilgrimage,
the path to estuary is suddenly getting shorter,
I have no time to look back and return,
I don’t have any more time for small things,
Now is time to think about eternal and unembraceable.
I have no time to think on crossroads,
I can arrive only somewhere close.
I don’t have time to study anything,
now I don’t have time for analysis,
for me water is just water
as if I had drank it from a well;
I have no time to split the sky into pieces,
I see it as children see it.
I don’t have any more time for foreign gods,
I haven’t even got to know mine well.
I have no time to adopt new commandments,
the old ten are already too much for me.
I don’t have any more time to join
those that are proving the truth.
I have no time to fight against chasers.
I have no time to dream, to walk slowly.
Trazim Pomilovanje
ZA NAIVNE
Za one kojima se cini
da su jednaki
siromah i bogati,
slab i jaki,
nesudjen i onaj koji se sa robije vrati,
bezruki i covek s rukama obema,
miropomazni i odlucen od vere,
zvani
i onaj sto pred vratima ceka,
za njih, za sebe,
za svakoga coveka
trazim pomilovanje.
I seek amnesty
FOR THE NAIVE
For those who believe
that all are equal,
poor and rich,
weak and strong,
the untired and the untiring prisoner,
the armless and the man with both arms,
the absolved and the man who has lost his faith,
the invited
and the one who waits at the door,
for them, for myself,
for everyone,
I seek amnesty.
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