Walker

to my neighbor Johnny whose name 
most likely isn’t Johnny

 

my neighbor who I call Johnny
so he has a name and surname
—Johnny Walker—
walks somewhere
every day he walks 
with a book 
in his hands he
never raises his head
he walks in black 
and walks alone
people passing him by
ask themselves
about the content
of the book 
him 
time
and if there is 
a photograph of him 
walking and reading
sometimes I watch 
him from my window
until he disappears
at the end of the long street
sometimes I worry he might 
trip the book might fall 
from his hands he’d be
forced to look up
sometimes I follow him 
secretly wander 
where he wanders
because he never 
goes anywhere
he walks to read
sometimes I walk 
beside him he
doesn’t even see me
I never catch 
the title of the book

 

Translated by the author with Catherine Copich Van Noy

Walker

sosedu Johnnyju ki mu najverjetneje ni ime Johnny

 

sosed ki sem mu dala ime Johnny 
tako da ima ime in priimek 
– Johnny Walker – 
gre vsak dan nekam peš 
hodi s knjigo v rokah in nikoli 
ne odvrne pogleda 
hodi v črnem hodi sam 
ljudje ki gredo mimo 
se sprašujejo 
o vsebini 
knjige 
njega 
časa 
in če obstaja 
njegova fotografija 
ko koraka in bere 
včasih ga gledam z okna 
tako dolgo 
dokler ne izgine 
na koncu dolge ulice 
včasih me skrbi da se bo spotaknil 
in mu bo knjiga padla z rok in bo prisiljen 
pogledat naokoli 
včasih mu naskrivaj sledim 
in potem tavam kjer tava on 
ker nikoli pravzaprav nikamor ne gre 
on hodi da bere 
včasih hodim kar ob njem in me 
sploh ne vidi 
naslova knjige ne ugotovim nikoli