Mother

When mother stretches her palm – she offers.

What is on the palm instantly grows into a hundred-year old tree,

Into a tower with torture chambers and Arthur’s sword.

What is on the palm presses itself like a premonition, like a fossil of eyesight 

Upon your lip that pronounces: this is how I come into being.

 

When mother stretches her hand, everything, including your hair, teeth, lovers

And glasses, it all gets tossed on a heap, inside the pyramid of desire.

One eye takes a walk to the left, because it is too painful that miracle egg

on the palm,

That Etrurian word trembling as if it is going to slice the world in two.

 

Mother charts out the constellations of ships.

There is a lighthouse in the night moving on top of a turtle and a whale.

He also moves on Mother’s palm, moving further and further away towards some other you.

For tomorrow is the great eclipse, the mass of the childhood that fell off along with the fish head

Wondering: where and when is that night now?

And when did Mother close her palm?

© translated by Damir Šodan

Majka

Kad majka ispruži dlan, ona daje.

Ono što je na dlanu smjesta izraste u drvo od sto ljeta,

u toranj za mučenje i Arthurov mač.

Ono što je na dlanu utisne se kao slutnja, kao okamina vida,

u tvoju usnu koja progovara: nastajem.

 

Kad majka ispruži ruku, sve, uključujući tvoju kosu, zube, ljubavnike

i naočale, sve je bačeno na hrpu, u piramidi čežnje.

Jedno oko prošeta lijevo, jer suviše boli to jaje čudesa na dlanu,

ta etrurska riječ koja drhti da će svijet raspolutiti.

 

Od majke se ucrtava konstelacija brodova.

U noći ima jedan svjetionik i on se pomiče na kornjači i kitu.

I on se pomiče na majčinom dlanu, on ide dalje i dalje, drugoj tebi.

Jer sutra je velika pomrčina, misa djetinjstva koje je otpalo s ribljom glavom

i sad se pita: gdje je ta noć i kada?

I kad se zatvorio majčin dlan?

© Ana Brnardić