Eto tako, probudili smo se jednog jutra
ne razmišljajući o tom što je bilo jučer
a što bi tek moglo biti sutra
na nekoj vlažnoj zemlji, podno nagih zvijezda
probudili smo se, brate, na sveloj travi, sasvim goli
bez gaća i bez perja, kao dvije šašave i smotane čaplje
što ne uspiješe još saviti niti svojih gnijezda
a puhalo je jugo, ili nešto drugo to bijaše
ili i jedno i drugo, ne znam što bih reko
puhalo je snažno, ali to ponajmanje bijaše važno
jer lice što ga držah u ruci bijaše sasvim toplo i meko
- da li i moje bijaše takvo, tko bi ga znao? -
sneno, naslonila je glavu na moje bedro
lelujajući i bez riječi - čas blizu, čas daleko
kao prastara lađa što je nosi jedro -
a ja bijah čitav, Bog da mi prosti
kao da sam s kruške pao
još mjesec bijaše pun, razliven i gust
svitao je - eto, ne znam koji dan,
narančasto bijaše sve, i sasvim visoko
izmješaše se nebo, zemlja i san
što bilo je ljepše, očni joj kapci ili samo oko
ne pitaj me, brate – to ne znam ni sad
ne pamtim ikad da vidjeh nešto tako nježno
ni kad dijete bijah, ne bijah toliko mlad
u meni popadalo inje, i bijaše sve snježno
iza spuštenih vjeđa, vidjeh
vijale su se mečave i padale su kiše
strašne neke kiše, luđačke i teške
i činilo se - poput lude ljuljačke
čitav svijet u njima da se njiše
opet, čim otvori ih, sasvim blizu čulo bi se
- te oči, takvu imale su moć! -
žalo gdje šušti i more kako diše
u njima kao da se izmjenjuju dan i noć
odjednom, tko zna otkud, došlo bi i meni
da skočim, da zaplivam, da se smočim
i da zaronim u toj zjeni što se pjeni
baš tako, eto - poslije snažne zime
ponovno zasjalo bi ljeto
probudili smo se, brate
ja i ona - ko dva uboga, gologuza tata
što spustili su se tko zna otkud
da li s Triglava ili s Karpata
bez domovnice i krsnoga lista
jedini svjedok bijaše nam rosa
u svakoj kapi, ko u zrcalu
blistatala su se lica čista
ko tisuće zastava,
na nama vijala se samo kosa
eto tako, probudili smo se tog jutra
šašavi i smiješni, ko Buga i Tuga
i sve je bilo, Bože mi prosti
kao da se zemlja nebu ruga
brate, probudili smo se negdje
gdje se bude radost i tuga
bezimeni - kao što se bude leptiri
gusjenice i gmizavi šumski crvi
tko zna kojim jezikom govorile su njene usne
i bez riječi bijahu tople, crvene i pune krvi
i jezike smo spleli, i šaptali nešto
o žalosti, o sreći, o ljubavi i boli
i ko Eskimi trljali se nosom
crtali hijeroglife i pravili grimase
ko Japanci i Kinezi, znalački i vješto
iako taj jezik nismo učili u školi
prastara kao čempres, nestašna ko oblak
svitala je kao zora, i čulo se srce kako skače
uvijek nova, i pitka, i beskrajana, nestvarana i laka
opet elementarana - i kad se smije i kad plače
kao arija daleka, i njena jeka -
bačena ko prokletstvo u mojoj ruci
žuborila je kao potok i razlijevala se kao rijeka
a ja, kao Charlie Chaplin u svojoj muci
samom sebi bijah smiješan
- o Bože, na svoju sliku što je stvori
smiluj se i govori – zazivao sam Boga -
što da ljubim, jer ne znah ni toliko
što bijaše joj ljepše: pupak ili noga
tko zna koja to bijaše zemlja
tko zna koje to bijaše vrijeme
na ledini nekoj stajali smo sami
- ja i ona
ona - najnježnija od sviju žena
i sva ko brecaj zvona
a u meni još urla tisuću zvijeri
i svaka vreba svoj komadić kože
- o, Bože!
uopće ne znam zašto smo se budili
jer i dok spavasmo bijaše nam
sasvim lijepo
ovako, i kad sve drugo bude mi svejedno,
od pogleda njenog sve u meni bit će žedno
brate, od buđenja tog
još sve me bole kosti
i Bože mi prosti,
od tad,
na ovoj zemlji
ostasmo ko gosti
Vinko Kalinić
We woke up
See, just like that, we woke up one morning
not even thinking about what was happening yesterday
and what could really be tomorrow
on some wet ground, beneath the naked stars
we woke up, bro, on flagging grass, completely naked
no underpants and no feathers, like two crazy confused herons
who haven’t even managed to build their nests
and there was scirocco blowing, or something else that was
or one or the other, don’t know what to say
it was blowing forcefully, but that was less important
because the face I was holding in my hand was so warm and soft
- was mine like that too, who would have known?
dreamily, she reclined her head on my thigh
waving it with no words - bit closer, bit further
as an ancient boat carried by its sail -
and I was complete, God forgive
as I fell down from the pear tree
the Moon was still full, diffused and dense
it was dawning - see, don’t even know which day,
everything was orange, and up so high
the sky, land and the dream mixed
don’t ask me brother, what was prettier, her eyelids or her eye only
- I still wouldn’t know
I don’t remember that I’ve ever seen anything so gentle
not even when I was a child, I wasn’t that young
inside me the hoar frost has fallen, and all was snowy
behind drawn eyelids, I saw
soaring blizzards and fallen rains
some horrible rains, madly and heavy rains
and it looked - like a crazy swing
the whole world was swinging in those eyes
again, as soon as she opened her eyes, you could hear it so close
- those eyes, they had such power ! -
where seashore is rustling and the sea is breathing
looks like days change into nights in there
suddenly, who knows where from, it would come to me too
to jump, to swim, to get wet
to dive into that foamy iris
just like that, see - after the strong winter
summer would shine again
we woke up, brother
she and me - as two poor, penniless thieves
that climbed down, who knows from where
whether from Triglav or from Carpathians
no citizenship and birth certificate
our only witness was the dew
in every drop, like in the mirror
our clean faces glittered
like thousands flags,
only our hair was waving
see, we woke up that morning
crazy and funny, like Buga and Tuga
and everything was, God forgive
like the Earth was mocking the sky
bro, we woke up somewhere
where joy and sorrow wake up together
unnamed – we were waking up the same way that butterflies,
caterpillars and creepy forest worms do
who knows what language her lips spoke then
even without any words they were warm, red end full of blood
we tangled up our tongues and whispered something
about sorrow, happiness, love and pain
and like Eskimos we were rubbing noses
drawing hieroglyphs and making funny faces
like Japanese and Chinese, knowingly and skilfully
although those languages we never studied at school
ancient like a cypress, playful like a cloud
she was raising like a dawn, you could hear the heart jumping
always new, fluent and endless, unreal and light
but still elementary - when she laughs and when she cries
like an aria distant, and her echo -
thrown as a curse in my hand
she was murmuring like a stream and overflowing like a river
and me, like a Charlie Chaplin in his own anguish
I was funny to myself
-oh God, you, who created her ’’in your own image’’
be merciful and say – I was calling up God –
what should I be kissing, because I don’t know,
which part was even nicer on her: her navel or her foot
who knows what country that was
who knows what time that was
on some lawn we were standing
-her and me
she – the most gentle woman of all women
like the resonant bell gong
inside of me there are still thousand screaming beasts
and each of them is preying their own peace of skin
-oh, God!
I really don’t know why we did wake up at all,
because when we were asleep we felt
quite nice
this way, when all other things become irrelevant for me,
all inside me will be thirsty just when she looks at me
brother, my bones are still painful
from that awakening
and God forgive,
since then,
on this Earth,
we just remained guests
Vinko Kalinić
(Translated into English
Darko Kotevski, Melbourne, Australia)
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