I open the window and I look at that Sun



by Vinko Kalinić

God, oh God, I woke up again and my first thought was: OK good, well where is MY LOVE?

Does it smile? Does it cry? Where does its eyes lead? What do the lines on its face whisper? Anyway, does it know that I am right here? That I wait for it? Bare foot. And semi-naked. Like a hermit for his own death. And, what if even MY LOVE is somewhere alone too? On this crazy world? With its thoughts heavier than mine?

I open the window and I look at that Sun. I look how it’s leafing. Like the rain flame, in trillion transparent drops. That celestial flame falls. Scattering like ashes. Drizzles. Glitters. And I, totally spontaneous, like some lunatic offer my naked arms to the heavens. Powerless. And full of longing. Instead of MY LOVE I’d like to embrace the LIGHT !

And IT resists! IT scrambles!

And I foresee again – it’s a compelling and enormous force. That LOVE of MINE. That would never be only mine. Mine is just this yearning that breaches me in half. Me who exists. Who is here. And me who doesn’t exist. And I would need to be here. Here. Or somewhere there. Or anywhere.

In a smile of that other, invisible face. Imaginary. The one that I’m laughing at this morning. Like the child that hasn’t been born yet. Somehow funny even to myself. In the smile without even my eyes would ever be fulfilled. Without glare, just like this Earth, which would have been just some lost and desolated star in the darkness without any sense.

- It’s young, It’s craving for a dream, maybe it’s still asleep... – my Faith whispers to me. (Which is still alive!) – That LOVE of YOURS.

The third time I’m approaching the window. I open it slowly. Like some mystic opening his superstition. People are waking up. Passing by. And everyone turns towards the Sun at least once. I feel. Body that burns. In this hollow sky there is at least something warm. Uncertain. But common to everybody. Here it is. That FAITH of mine.

And I listen.

The whole universe, how it pulsates in my veins.

Komiža, 11th August 2011

(Translated by Darko Kotevski)

 

Otvorim prozor i gledam to sunce




Bože, Bože, opet sam se probudio i prva misao bila mi je: pa dobro, gdje je ta moja Ljubav?

Smije li se? Plače li? Kuda vode njene oči? Što šapuću crte na njenom licu? Uopće, znade li ona da sam i ja tu? Da je čekam? Bos. I polugol. Kao pustinjak svoju smrt. I što ako je i ona negdje sama? Na ovom ludom svijetu? S mislima težim od mojih?

Otvorim prozor i gledam to sunce. Gledam kako se razlistava. Kao vatrena kiša, u triljardama prozirnih kapljica. Pada taj nebeski oganj. Prosipa se poput pepela. Rosi se. Iskri. I ja, sasvim spontano, kao neki luđak pružam k nebesima svoje gole ruke. Nemoćne. I pune strepnje. Umjesto nje, hoću zagrliti svjetlost!

A ona se neda. Otima se!

I ja opet slutim - nesavladiva je i ogromna sila. Ta moja Ljubav. Koja nikada i neće biti samo moja. Moja je tek ova čežnja što me lomi na pola. Na mene kojeg ima. Koji sam tu. I na mene kojeg nema. A trebao bi biti. Tu. Ili tamo negdje. Ili bilo gdje.

U osmijehu na tom drugom, nevidljivom licu. Zamišljenom. Kojem se i ovog jutra smiješim. Kao dijete koje se još ni rodilo nije. Pomalo smiješan i samom sebi. U osmijehu bez kojeg moje oči nikad neće biti pune. Bez odsjaja, kao i ova Zemlja, što bi bila tek izgubljena i pusta zvijezda, u mraku bez smisla.


- Mlada je, žedna sna, možda još spava... - šapuće mi moja Vjera. (Koja je još uvijek živa!) - Ta tvoja Ljubav.

Već tri puta zalazim na prozor. Otvaram ga oprezno. Kao neki mistik svoje praznovjerje. Ljudi se bude. Prolaze. I svatko se bar jednom okrene za suncem. Osjećam. Tijelo koje gori. U ovom šupljem nebu ipak ima nešto toplo. Neizvjesno. Ali svima zajedničko. Tu je. Ta moja Nada.

I slušam.

Čitav svemir, kako pulsira u mojim žilama.

Komiža, 11. 08. 2011.

Vinko Kalinić