Dječak se njihao na velikom korijenu
promatrajući helikoptere u sjemenkama lipe
koji se okretahu poput umirućih insekata
čekajući da započne život.
I ne znajući da su njegove zelene oči
mnogo življe
od onih što jure uz njega, u kolima.
Teško je razumijeti
a ne čekati i razmišljati:
sigurno najbolji dani mog života
tek dolaze da bi ih živio negdje drugdje,
jer bilo gdje samo ne ovdje
je mjesto gdje postoji ljubav i gdje će
život istinski započeti.
Zrikavci o tome ne znaju ama baš ništa.
Vani, iza garaže, u visokoj travi
tragajući među helikopterskim olupinama
ispredenih sjemenki lipe
oni pjevaju pohotno ovoga dana
zbog ljeta koje je čitav njihov životni vijek.
Michael Hogan
(Translated by
Darko Kotevski)
PASSING THROUGH VIRGINIA
by Michael Hogan
The boy balanced on the big root
watching the helicopter seeds of maples
spin like dying insects
is waiting for life to begin.
He doesn’t suspect his green eyes
are more alive
than those speeding by him in cars.
It is difficult to learn
not to be waiting and thinking:
surely the best days of my life
are yet to be lived somewhere else
any place but this
is where love is and where
life will truly begin.
The crickets know nothing of such things.
Out behind the garage in the high grass
searching among the helicopter wrecks
of spun-out maple seeds
they sing lustily of this day
for the summer that is all their lifetime.
(From Making Our Own Rules: New and Selected Poems.
@© Copyright 1989 by Michael Hogan)
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