Kupi­la sam plavu ružu.
(mod­ro plavu)
Kinesku.  Od drve­ta koje liči na papir.
Baš lepo izgleda.
Sebi sam je kupila.
Moja ljubav je negde
razmišl­jala raču­nala poredila
da li se ova ljubav isplati.

Dan je bio lep ali povučen,
kao lju­di pred kišu.
Ručala sam vino i salatu.  Odspavala.
I pomis­lila na redovnost.
Mada sam san­jala nešto
strašno, požar, užas, kraj.
Uverljivo.
Mis­lim da smo svi izgoreli,
a posle pevali.

Ali nisam sigurna.
Tak­va se budim.

 

 

ATTENTION

 

I bought myself a dark blue rose.
Chi­neese. Made of wood resem­bling paper.
It is beau­ti­ful, it is indeed.
I bought it for myself.
My love was somewhere
think­ing cal­cu­lat­ing weighing
whether this love was worthwhile.

The day was nice but subdued,
like peo­ple before the rain.
I had wine and sal­ad for lunch. I took a nap.
And I thought of ordi­nary things
alhough I had a dream of something
dread­ful, with fire, a ter­ror, a final ending.
It was convincing.
I would say we were all burnt out,
and singing afterwards.

But I am not sure.
That’s how I wake up.

 

Poèmes traduits du serbe en anglais par l’auteur

Poem from the col­lec­tion Twen­ty Poems About Love and One Love Poem – Dvade­set pesama o ljubavi i jed­na ljubavna

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