Zemunice- Dugout / Poems by Duska Vrhovac

Zemunice- Dugout

 

Duska Vrhovac .

Poems by Duska Vrhovac

 

ZEMUNICA I

Dan po dan gradimo ovaj život
pun krstova, hridina i grudobrana,
svako trči svoj začarani krug,
isti jahači, putevi, prepreke,
i svako svoje opravdanje vuče.

Jedino u meni ostaje moj svet, znam.

I neću više da brojim dane do odlaska,
kada moja zvezda konačno padne
uzleteću i prikazivati se
svake noći i raspuklog jutra
kao vrela kap rose na izgubljenom licu.

 

Dugout I

Day by day we build this life
full of crosses, cliffs, walls, shields,
and everyone runs his own spellbound circle,
the same riders, barriers, roads,
and everyone carts his own excuses.

I know, all that’s left in me is my own world.

And now I no longer want to count
the days before departure,
when my star finally falls
I shall shoot up there and shine
every dusk and daybreak
like a burning dewdrop on a lost face.

~*~

ZEMUNICA II

Prokleto nemoguća noć.
Kakve to javke izlaze iz svake pore
i razljućene opet se meni vraćaju?
Da raširim ruke, da otvorim oči,
prokleto nemoguću reč bih izrekla,
reč koja se vuče
od večeri do večeri
od ranjenih pokreta sastavljena.
Idem, a osvrćem se, ipak!
Ne mogu da preuzmem nož
za ovaj muk izov,
prazno je sve u meni
a opet neka lirika se vuče
trula voćka u nedrima cveta,
u nemoći jutro najavljuje.

 

Dugout II

Damned impossible night.
What are these ghostwakes that ooze from each pore
howling to crawl back under my skin?
If I could just spread my arms, open my eyes,
what damned impossible word would I utter,
a word that limped on
from dusk to dusk
entirely made of maimed movements.
I carry on, but still I glance back.
I dare not even grasp a knife
to this deep quiet, this calling,
I have been utterly emptied out
but still some kind of song limps on,
a rotten fruit sprouts in my breast
and, powerless, crows morning.

~*~

ZEMUNICA III

Kada sam tebe ljubila
nevidljivu kuću nad nama sam zidala,
ispod tvoje kože polagala
stotine oplođenih ćelija,
u tvom oku smeštala ognjište,
rasplamsavala vatru na kamenu
i ti si rastao i nadolazio
kao obljubljena devojka.
Kada sam tebe primala
i oduzimala te tebi samom
jesenje zrele plodove
oko postelje sam nizala
dečija stopala crtala
i kapi kiše u mleko pretvarala.
Kada sam tebe ljubila
sve je tvoje kod mene ostajalo
i ja sam verovala da ćemo se spasti.
Pa ipak, evo nas odlazimo
i niko ne zna kako ćemo se zaboravljati.

 

Dugout III

At the time I loved you
I walled an invisible house
over our heads, and under your skin
I laid a mass of fertilised cells,
in your gaze I bricked a hearth
and on its stone my breath fanned fire
until you grew, and yielded
like a surrendering virgin.
At the time I received you in
and so released you from yourself,
on a thread around our bed
I beaded ripe autumnal fruits,
and turned rain droplets into milk.
At the time I loved you
all that was yours found repose in me
and I believed we would save each other.
But now, here we are, separating
and neither of us knows how
we’ll forget each other, our selves.

 

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