Izmaglica
Nedaleko od mesta na kome se
Skružio grad, napokon povučen u sebe,
Pretvarajući se u lako zamislivu tačku
Iz koje zrakasto kreću ulice,
Velike i male, bučne i prljave,
Zaposednute ljudstvom i one sa odjecima
Zvonkim zbog usamljenosti,
Prostor su ispunile kuće
Gotovo polegle po zemlji,
Bez ikakve gradske visine.
Pažljivo sam gledao ovaj prostor
Urastanja u raskvašenu zemlju
Kako bih nešto zabeležio.
Ali što sam duže posmatrao,
Sve više sam uviđao zatamnjena mesta,
Recimo ono iza zguljene zelene ograde,
Posle kojih malaksava pogled.
Jasnije mi je bilo zašto se ne može opisati
Ono što ne staje ni u jedan pogled,
Ni u samo jedan život.
Otuda su dopirale senke,
Zvuci od pritajenih do teških,
Oslobođeni brige kako će ih drugi čuti,
Koraci koji nikoga ne izvode na videlo.
Video sam što se moglo videti.
Menjao mesta i tako oprobao
Vijugavi nagib ulice.
Potom sam odmahnuo rukom.
Ne samo zbog uzaludnosti
Nego i kao pozdrav
Onome što se najpre videlo
A onda postajalo slutnja.
Izmaglica snenih očiju.
Haze
Not far away from the spot where
The town scooped up, finally withdrawn within itself,
Transforming itself into an easily imagined point
From which radiate the streets,
The big ones and small, noisy and filthy
Those peopled and those with echoes
Resounding because of loneliness,
The space is filled up with houses
Almost flattened to the ground
Without any urban height.
Carefully I scanned the space
Ingrowing into the sodden earth
So that I could jot down something.
But the longer I watched
The more I became aware of darkened areas
Say, the one behind the fence with chipped off green paint
Beyond which the view wears out.
It became clearer to me why it is impossible to describe
That which cannot accommodate itself into one view only
Nor into one life for that matter.
From there the shadows got through,
The sounds ranging from concealed to heavy
Not heeding whether they will be heard by others,
The steps that bring no one to the open.
I saw what could be seen.
I changed my position frequently so that I could test
The winding slope of the street.
Then I waved off with my hand.
Not only because of futility
But as a salute
To that that was seen first
And then gradually became a foreboding.
A haze of sleepy eyes.
Translated: Djordje Krivokapic