Majku je lako zavarati.
Imati jasno zelene oči u dobi od 12
je gotovo kao posjedovati
britak jezik kasnije u životu.
Moje su oči bile bistro zelene.
Zakriljeni kipom grofa Rochambeaua
ja i djevojka iz grada Fall River
propustismo misu na travnjaku u blizini zaljeva.
I tako tijekom punih šest tjedana
došao bih kući svakog nedjeljnog podneva
zagušen ljubavlju do usijanja.
Shvačajući to Božjom milošću, majka reče ponosno:
Samo ga pogledaj, Frank.
Kakav će to profinjeni svećenik biti jednog dana.
Michael Hogan
(Preveo Darko Kotevski)
THE BOY WITH GREEN EYES
by Michael Hogan
Mother was easily deceived.
Having clear green eyes at the age of twelve
is almost as good as owning
a glib tongue much later in life.
My eyes were of the clearest green.
Hidden by the statue of Rochambeau
I and a girl from Fall River
missed Mass on a grassy spot near the Bay.
And for six weeks running
I came home each Sunday noon
chockablock high with love.
Mistaking it for grace, mother said proudly,
Just look at him, Frank.
What a fine priest he’ll make some day.
(From Making Our Own Rules by Michael Hogan, Copyright 1989.)
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