ELEGIJA POSVEĆENA ZEMLJI
Ljudi stalno, sebično nabrajaju svoje jade
Dok ih ti slušaš i polako ostaješ bez nade
Oni pišu elegije oplakujući svoj bol,
Neuzvraćenu ljubav, sebe,L
Ali ova elegija je samo za tebe-
Svi pišu tužbalice opsednuti sobom,
A moja pesma je posvećena nasilju, nasilju nad tobom
I danas sam videla mrtvu pticu na putu
Njena smrt mi je ponovo otkrila sav ovaj užas,
Ostavila me da iznova podnosim poniženja-
Da gledam lica, bezbrojna, bezlična, gruba, pohlepna lica,
Koja svakog jutra jurišaju da te unište
Na ulicama se komešaju žurba, mržnja i ravnodušnost
Žene besomučno kupuju, pohlepno zaviruju u izloge,
Bacajući papire i račune na trotoar,
U jednoj kafani, neki muškarci piju i puše
Dim cigareta, beznačajni razgovori,
Brišu i uništavaju sve, čak nam i ljubav zagade
Dodirom svojih prljavih prstiju
Dimnjaci i automobili pretvaraju vazduh u smrdljivu izmaglicu
Mašine koje reže, kreštave sirene,
Nadjačavaju cvrkut ptica i dečiji smeh
Bašte od plastičnih kesa cvetaju na obalama reka,
Duše mrtvih labudova plove po sivim jezerima,
Zagrađenim tugom pesnika
More krvari, izbacujući smeće na pesak
A ti plačeš za čovekom, koji je nekada davno, davno...
Bio odeven u lepotu, a sada je obučen u ruševine
U tvojim suzama, vidim svemir i očaj tvog srebrnog saputnika
I dalje se bešumno okrećeš,
Izmenjena, ostarela, obmotana pohabanim velom,
Tvoje bore, napravljene od betonskih puteva i kula,
Postaju sve dublje, tvoje haljine se cepaju
I dalje se uporno i samilosno okrećeš,
Odlazeći u duboko ništavilo, u praznu budućnost
Ljudi stalno, sebično nabrajaju svoje jade
Dok ih ti slušaš i polako ostaješ bez nade
Oni pišu elegije oplakujući svoj bol,
Neuzvraćenu ljubav, sebe,
Ali ova elegija je samo za tebe-
Svi pišu tužbalice, opsednuti sobom,
A moja pesma je posvećena nasilju, nasilju nad tobom
THE ELEGY DEVOTED TO THE EARTH
People are, constantly, selfishly numbering their troubles endlessly
While you are listening to them patiently and hopelessly
They write elegies describing unrequited love, themselves,
Their pain, feeling blue,
But this elegy is only for you-
Everyone is writing sad poems, and self-centered, too
However, my poem is devoted to violence, to violence against you
Today, I saw a dead bird on the road
Its death made me see again this horror,
It left me to endure humiliation, over and over again-
To watch faces, innumerable, impersonal, coarse, covetous faces,
Who rush every morning to destroy you
Haste, hatred and indifference are jostling down the streets
Crazed women are shopping, peeking into shop windows greedily,
Throwing away papers and bills on the sidewalk
Some men are drinking and smoking in a tavern
Cigarette smoke, trivial conversations
Erase and kill everything, even love is contaminated
By the touch of their dirty fingers
Chimneys and cars are turning the air into smelly haze
Snarling machines, squeaky sirens
Override chirping of birds and children`s laughter
Gardens made of plastic bags bloom on the river banks
The souls of dead swans are floating on grey lakes,
Enclosed by sadness of poets
The sea is bleeding, bringing waste back on the sand
And you are crying over the man,
Who was a long, long time ago,
Clad in beauty and who is now dressed in wrecks
In your tears, I see the universe and despair of your silver companion
You are still spinning noiselessly,
Changed, old, wrapped in a shabby veil,
Your wrinkles, made of concrete roads and towers
Are becoming deeper and deeper, your gowns are worn-out
You are still spinning, persistently and compassionately,
Going nowhere, into the empty future
People are constantly, selfishly numbering their troubles endlessly
While you are listening to them, patiently and hopelessly
They write elegies describing unrequited love, themselves,
Their pain, feeling blue,
But this elegy is only for you-
Everyone is writing sad poems, and self-centered, too
However, my poem is devoted to violence, to violence against you
Ljudi stalno, sebično nabrajaju svoje jade
Dok ih ti slušaš i polako ostaješ bez nade
Oni pišu elegije oplakujući svoj bol,
Neuzvraćenu ljubav, sebe,L
Ali ova elegija je samo za tebe-
Svi pišu tužbalice opsednuti sobom,
A moja pesma je posvećena nasilju, nasilju nad tobom
I danas sam videla mrtvu pticu na putu
Njena smrt mi je ponovo otkrila sav ovaj užas,
Ostavila me da iznova podnosim poniženja-
Da gledam lica, bezbrojna, bezlična, gruba, pohlepna lica,
Koja svakog jutra jurišaju da te unište
Na ulicama se komešaju žurba, mržnja i ravnodušnost
Žene besomučno kupuju, pohlepno zaviruju u izloge,
Bacajući papire i račune na trotoar,
U jednoj kafani, neki muškarci piju i puše
Dim cigareta, beznačajni razgovori,
Brišu i uništavaju sve, čak nam i ljubav zagade
Dodirom svojih prljavih prstiju
Dimnjaci i automobili pretvaraju vazduh u smrdljivu izmaglicu
Mašine koje reže, kreštave sirene,
Nadjačavaju cvrkut ptica i dečiji smeh
Bašte od plastičnih kesa cvetaju na obalama reka,
Duše mrtvih labudova plove po sivim jezerima,
Zagrađenim tugom pesnika
More krvari, izbacujući smeće na pesak
A ti plačeš za čovekom, koji je nekada davno, davno...
Bio odeven u lepotu, a sada je obučen u ruševine
U tvojim suzama, vidim svemir i očaj tvog srebrnog saputnika
I dalje se bešumno okrećeš,
Izmenjena, ostarela, obmotana pohabanim velom,
Tvoje bore, napravljene od betonskih puteva i kula,
Postaju sve dublje, tvoje haljine se cepaju
I dalje se uporno i samilosno okrećeš,
Odlazeći u duboko ništavilo, u praznu budućnost
Ljudi stalno, sebično nabrajaju svoje jade
Dok ih ti slušaš i polako ostaješ bez nade
Oni pišu elegije oplakujući svoj bol,
Neuzvraćenu ljubav, sebe,
Ali ova elegija je samo za tebe-
Svi pišu tužbalice, opsednuti sobom,
A moja pesma je posvećena nasilju, nasilju nad tobom
THE ELEGY DEVOTED TO THE EARTH
People are, constantly, selfishly numbering their troubles endlessly
While you are listening to them patiently and hopelessly
They write elegies describing unrequited love, themselves,
Their pain, feeling blue,
But this elegy is only for you-
Everyone is writing sad poems, and self-centered, too
However, my poem is devoted to violence, to violence against you
Today, I saw a dead bird on the road
Its death made me see again this horror,
It left me to endure humiliation, over and over again-
To watch faces, innumerable, impersonal, coarse, covetous faces,
Who rush every morning to destroy you
Haste, hatred and indifference are jostling down the streets
Crazed women are shopping, peeking into shop windows greedily,
Throwing away papers and bills on the sidewalk
Some men are drinking and smoking in a tavern
Cigarette smoke, trivial conversations
Erase and kill everything, even love is contaminated
By the touch of their dirty fingers
Chimneys and cars are turning the air into smelly haze
Snarling machines, squeaky sirens
Override chirping of birds and children`s laughter
Gardens made of plastic bags bloom on the river banks
The souls of dead swans are floating on grey lakes,
Enclosed by sadness of poets
The sea is bleeding, bringing waste back on the sand
And you are crying over the man,
Who was a long, long time ago,
Clad in beauty and who is now dressed in wrecks
In your tears, I see the universe and despair of your silver companion
You are still spinning noiselessly,
Changed, old, wrapped in a shabby veil,
Your wrinkles, made of concrete roads and towers
Are becoming deeper and deeper, your gowns are worn-out
You are still spinning, persistently and compassionately,
Going nowhere, into the empty future
People are constantly, selfishly numbering their troubles endlessly
While you are listening to them, patiently and hopelessly
They write elegies describing unrequited love, themselves,
Their pain, feeling blue,
But this elegy is only for you-
Everyone is writing sad poems, and self-centered, too
However, my poem is devoted to violence, to violence against you
