Bljedilo / Pallor

Bosnian

Dok čučim u rovu
iz dosade
pokušavam
crvenom olovkom
naslikati svijet.

Stvari nestaju pod oštrim linijama
kojima ih prizivam.
Samo je praznina bijelog papira gutali sve.

Neko je obojio u bijelo,
nebo u koje se kao u oči ludaka uvlačim;
neko je obojio u bijelo
korijenje drveta što je nateklo kao ruke
koje su nas odgurnule;
neko je obojio u bijelo
bagrem što nam po glavi pada
neko je obojio u bijelo
korak kojim ti prilazim;
neko je obojio u bijelo
pogled moje majke
koja još uvijek misli
da je smrt
s onu stranu mene.

English Translation

As I crouch in the trench
out of boredom
with a red pencil
I try to
draw the world.

Things disappear beneath the sharp lines
that evoke them.
Only the emptiness of white paper swallows all.

Someone painted white
the sky into which I am drawn as if into the eyes of a madman;
someone painted white
the roots of the trees swollen like the arms
that pushed us away;
someone painted white
the acacias falling on our heads;
someone painted white
the step I take towards you;
someone painted white
the gaze of my mother
still thinking
death was
beyond me.

Printed from Cerise Press: http://www.cerisepress.com

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