Aug 26, 2013

Istanbul Literary Review, Turkey, 2011


IZVIDANE RANE

Svetac međ' svecima
Molitvom pozlaćuje
Rane –
Vaskrslog Hrista.


The Healed Wounds

The saint among saints
With his prayer
Paints in gold
The wounds
Of the Resurrected Christ.


ZA NEŽNI NAPEV

Preostaje mi reč
Hartija
Neumrljana
I prozor
Koji otvara
U mojim očima
Svanuće.


For a Gentler Song

The Word is left
Paper
Untouched
And  the window
Opens
A sunrise
In my eyes.




MOJI SELJANI

Moji preci
Opankom su
Po njivama
Ime ucrtavali.


My Peasants

My ancestors
With their peasant shoes
Their names impressed
Upon the fields.


SVETI ZAPIS

Prvi zapis
Ostavio otisak
Što zbori
O imenu sela
Jezikom pamćenja.


Holy Script

The first mark
Left an impression
Talking
About the village name
in the language of  memory.


MOJE SU REČI

Kao omlađeni starac
Moje su reči
Stidljivi pokloni
Kakvo ću svedočanstvo
U sebi da nosim
Za krilo budućnosti
Koje sanjam
Da u slavu Boga
Na neponovljivi način
Budim postojano.


My Words Are

Like in an aged young  man
My words
Are timid gifts
Of the testimony
I will carry with me
For the wing of future

In which I dream
To celebrate God
In an unrepeatable way
Awakening it steadily.


DVORIŠNI HRAST

Svečano bdi i stražari
Pod njim lelujave senke
Šire spokoj i hladovinu
Začeta snenost uljuljkuje
Smorne ukućane
Lahorom povetarca
Ih gosti – okrepljuje
A usnama lišća
Im šapće Rodoslov.


Oak in the Yard

Solemnly watches and guards
Its trembling shadows underneath
Spreading a serene shade
The incepted slumber lulls
The family clan
With a touch of breeze
Nurtures them and invigorates
With the lips of leaves
Whispering their genealogy.


Translation: Mira N. Matarić

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