War museum

by Ana Brnardić


War museum

For the longest time that ashes soaked in the spilled out essence of bones, tears and Proud foreheads

For the longest time we waited to get out of boxes, out of albums, out of grandma’s warm Shelters to observe that foreignness of objects, iron, buckles, faded letters,

Starched newspapers cries, sky-high flying books,

The cut-up embraces, fabric with a tooth of snow sown into it,

Female curly salutes warming up forest,

Cold soup floating on the palm, banners, needles melting under tongue,

Map and obsolete alphabet whose language we soon won’t be able to read at all. 

© translated by Damir Šodan

Muzej rata

Dugo je taj pepeo upijao rasutu srž kostiju, suza i visokih čela

i dugo smo čekali da izađemo iz kutija, iz albuma, iz bakinih toplih jazbina

da vidimo to inozemstvo predmeta, željeza, kopča, izblijedjelih slova,

štirkanih novinskih povika, u nebo odletjelih knjiga,

izrezanih zagrljaja, štofa u koji je ušiven zub snijega,

ženskih nakovrčanih pozdrava koji griju šumu,

hladne juhe koja pluta u dlanu, zastava, igala koje se tope pod jezikom,

karta i zastarjelog pisma čiji jezik uskoro nećemo znati pročitati.

© Ana Brnardić