Miroslav Kirin

Translated by Miroslav Kirin

1. A WOMAN STOWAWAY / SLIJEPA PUTNICA

   

   

   ENGHRV

   I could hardly wait for the border,

   but now, when the train stopped

   and let the blue uniforms of customs officers in, and the passengers 

   pulled their legs off  as if to avoid the water,

   I am being drowned in fear

    

   A woman opposite me caresses, caresses,

   calms down the rabbit in the sweater,

   an Indian bent over the naked shirts

   explains his own skin

   Three lines ahead I see a girl

   combing her hair with a kind of despair,

   so smooth looks like a wig

   Are we real?

    

   Hairs are crackling, electricity is in the air

    

   Our eyes staring into the caps of customs officers,

   they take them away

    

   Alone in the dark, I go into something else

   Now all the courage needs to be gathered

   and two horizontal lines be drawn in pencil,

   then

   open the eyes

   Translated by Miroslav Kirin

   Jedva sam dočekala granicu,

   ali sad, kad se vlak zaustavio 

   i pustio plava odijela carinika, a putnici

   povukli noge kao da se sklanjaju od vode,

   strah me potapa

    

   Žena nasuprot gladi, gladi, 

   umiruje zeca u džemperu,

   indijac nad golim košuljama

   objašnjava vlastitu kožu

   Tri reda dalje vidim djevojčicu

   koja kosu češlja s nekim očajem, 

   preglatku kao periku

   Jesmo li stvarni? 

    

   Čuje se vlasi pucketaju, struja je u zraku

    

   Naše oči upiljene u carinske kape,

   oni ih odnose

    

   Sama u mraku, ulazim u nešto drugo

   Sad treba skupiti svu hrabrost

   i olovkom povući dvije vodoravne crte,

   potom

   otvoriti oči

2. THE MAID WHO EARNED HER DEGREE IN THOMAS HOBBES / SOBARICA KOJA JE DIPLOMIRALA NA THOMASU HOBBESU

   

   

   ENGHRV

   I've been looking for my place all morning

   and now, when the noon sat on the forehead as a sweaty arse

   and the bathers are desperately seeking air at the flying vendors,

   two men and two women come with two plus two children

   threatening to take away that little distance I've won 

   from the towels resembling the sheets waiting for us

    

                          

   The square of the air that belongs to me as a beach given right

   is being pumped into mattresses, rollers, cushions,

   into shoulders, arms, tits under the American flag

   into the shoulders that spread, thighs and into Our Lady on the biceps

   swelling off  like an old alcoholic

   desiring more and more intoxicating worship

                          

   Tanned and shiny, my skin expresses them

   just like white  background expresses text:

   I am replaceable and yet necessary

   if the words want to be important

   Sun sun, damage me

   Translated by Miroslav Kirin

   Cijelo sam jutro tražila svoje mjesto,

   a sad, kad je podne sjelo na čelo kao znojna guzica

   i kupači očajno traže zrak kod letećih prodavača,

   dolaze dvojica i dvije s dvoje plus dvoje djece

   pa ručnicima nalik na plahte što nas čekaju 

   prijete uzeti to malo odmaka koji sam izborila

    

   Kvadrat zraka koji mi po plažnom pravu pripada

   upumpavaju u madrace, kolutove, jastuke, 

   u ramena, ruke, sise ispod američke zastave,

   u šije što se šire, butine i gospu na bicepsu

   koja otiče kao stara alkoholičarka

   željna još i još opojnog obožavanja

    

   Preplanule i sjajne moja ih koža izražava

   kao bijela podloga tekst:

   zamjenjiva sam a ipak nužna

   da bi riječi dobile na važnosti

   Sunce sunce, ošteti me

3. A MALE FASHION MODEL WITH A CANCER / MANEKEN S RAKOM

   

   

   ENGHRV

   It takes a doubt to get an illness

   As in the equation, I stared

   into the dark crescents of the eyebags,

   and one morning they fell onto the lungs

    

   The sun went out and the X-ray Shadow 

   was evident   I said:

    

   o, I have always loved black holes

   which arise when a star forgets its glow,

   let's say, janis joplin

   every now and then extinguishes a fag end

   on so-called healthy alveoli

    

   This world has deserved every cough,

   a world in which nobody is drugged sincerely,

   a world in which there is too little swearing,

   and a little little breathing seems to be enough

   a general thought

   that maybe it's only about me,

   that others can understand what this is about

    

   Sister, I need more of October,

   a more evident poverty, a summer to end

   as hair gone during chemotherapy,

   never to return

   as long as death does not give up

   Translated by Miroslav Kirin

   Za bolest je potrebna sumnja

   Kao u jednadžbu buljio sam

   u tamne polumjesece podočnjaka,

   i oni su jednog jutra pali na pluća

    

   Izašlo je sunce i jasno se vidjela

   rendgenska sjena Rekao sam:

    

   o, oduvijek obožavam crne rupe

   koje nastaju kad zvijezda zaboravi svoj sjaj,

   recimo, janis joplin 

   svako malo ugasi čik na takozvanim

   zdravim alveolama

    

   Ovaj svijet zaslužio je svako kašljanje,

   svijet u kojem se više nitko ne drogira iskreno,

   svijet u kojem se premalo psuje,

   i dovoljno je malo malo disanja

   jedna općenita misao

   da je možda samo o meni riječ,

   da drugi razumiju o čemu se tu radi

    

   Treba mi, sestro, više listopada,

   očitija besparica, da ljeto završi

   kao kemoterapijom pokošena kosa,

   ne vraća se

   dok smrt ne odustane

4. A FEMALE VISITOR OF A SECOND-HAND SHOP / POSJETITELJICA DUĆANA RABLJENE ROBE

   

   

   ENGHRV

   It's scary to bite

   wool-loaded spaces

    

   Jumper-gall next to jumper-night,

   jumper-god next to jumper-blood

    

   jumper-milk in sickening quantities,

   the rows of pants cold-bloodedly deprived of aim

    

   Can anyone tell me what they have done with the bodies?

    

   Mechanical hands are picking out, picking out, searching,

   they must know who they are coming from

    

   I've stumbled upon a brecht-shirt which says:

   it is a crime to talk about flowers with so much pain around

    

   I'm insensitive, I can feel it in my pockets,

   my fists crumbling it,

    

   and the stereotype cashier shudders

   having touched what coins say,

   but her empty look keeps staring straight into the heaven

    

   Tell me, what have they done with the bodies?

    

   Soon,

   when wood knocks on wood and I stay closed,

   I'll be home

   (What, what have they done?)

    

   Out of darkness the consultation of plants will whisper:

   breathe, breathe, breathe

   Translated by Miroslav Kirin

    U prostore pune vune

    jezivo je zagristi

    

    Džemper-žuč do džempera-noć,

    džemper-bog do džempera-krv,

    

    džemper-mlijeko u mučnim količinama,

    redovi hlača hladno lišenih cilja

    

    Može li mi netko reći što su učinili s tijelima?

    

    Mehaničke ruke prebiru, prebiru, traže, 

    traže da im se objasni od koga dolaze

    

    Iskopala sam brecht-košulju koja kaže: 

    zločin je govoriti o cvijeću kraj toliko boli

    

    Neosjetljiva sam, osjećam to u džepovima,

    šakama to mrvim u sitno, 

    

    i stereotip blagajnice strese se

    od dodira onog što kažu kovanice,

    no pogled joj, prazan, ostaje uperen ravno u raj

    

    Reci mi, što su učinili s tijelima?

    

    Uskoro,

    kad udari drvo o drvo i ostanem zatvorena, 

    bit ću kod kuće 

    (Što, što su učinili?)

    

    Iz mraka konzilij biljaka šaptat će: 

    diši, diši, diši

5. A HAIRDRESSER WHO DROWNED HERSELF / FRIZERKA KOJA SE UTOPILA

   

   

   ENGHRV

   All those who nowadays want their hairdo

   got their own inborn hair

   from the pile in auschwitz

    

   I have touched it too many times, my fingers

   have only learned to write death:

    

   alarm clock button was a death,

   toaster button was a death,

   all the buttons in the sea of buttons -

    

   and then at seven in the morning

   the sea came

   and I extended my hands

   and the world quickly and for good

   stiffened from fear

   Translated by Miroslav Kirin

   Svi koji danas hoće frizuru

   dobili su svoju rođenu kosu

   s hrpe u auschwitzu

                                     

   Previše sam je doticala, prsti su mi

   naučili pisati samo smrt:

    

   tipka budilice bila je smrt,

   tipka tostera bila je smrt,

   sve tipke u moru tipki – 

    

   i onda je more u sedam ujutro

   došlo

   i ja sam pružila ruke

   i svijet se brzo i zauvijek

   ukočio od straha

6. A HOMELESS BEFORE THE RESTAURANT WINDOW / BESKUĆNIK PRED PROZOROM RESTORANA

   

   

   ENGHRV

   What's that in the glass?

   An air terrified of wind, a space without error

    

   I look at them how perfect they are,

   desiring to stay there forever  If only,

   eating is an emotional act, and the food they are chewing

   feels good to my tongue:

    

   I wait for them, I, their horror of life,

   with a cat in my lap

   which can jump in a way that her feet

   can hook up the car top and a smaller town,

   and for a moment everything gets tense and wild

    

   A young woman inside brings me a glass of tea,

   she approaches me as the tiger is approached with meat

   Her belly lets the sound

   of an animal craving for fur

    

   The air between us is for a moment vibrant from the steam

   and, I know, I have to throw the tea in her face

   because I need a cry to break up the scene

   to fit the question perfectly:

    

   Where is the milk,

   are you saying  we are not in England?

   Oops, all the caked whiteness is hanging over the city,

   they say, Christmas decorations - I think:

    

   too much cheesecake, horror of cow,

   her humble contribution to death

   Translated by Miroslav Kirin

   Što je to u staklu?

   Zrak koji se užasava vjetra, prostor bez greške

    

   Gledam ih savršene, 

   željne da tako ostane zauvijek Kamo sreće,

   jedenje je emotivni čin, i hrana koju žvaču

   godi mom jeziku: 

    

   čekam ih, ja, njihov užas pred životom,

   s mačkom u krilu

   koja umije skočiti tako da o noge

   objesi krov auta i manji grad,

   i sve načas bude napeto i divlje

    

   Mlada žena iznutra mi nosi čašicu čaja,

   prilazi kao što se tigru prilazi s mesom

   Iz njenog trbuha čuje se   

   da životinja žudi za krznom

    

   Zrak među nama načas zatitra od pare

   i, znam, moram joj baciti čaj u lice

   jer trebam krik koji će rasparati prizor

   da lijepo pristaje pitanje: 

    

   Gdje je mlijeko,

   želiš li reći da nismo u engleskoj?

   Ups, sva bjelina skoreno visi nad gradom, 

   kažu, božićni ukrasi – ja mislim:

    

   previše kolača od sira, užas krave,

   njen skroman doprinos smrti

7. A FEMALE MARATHON RUNNER / MARATONKA

   

   

   ENGHRV

   The hospital wall went off my shoulder,

   the sheet fell off my heel

   I left behind my legs, my womb and my thoughts,

   Houses became lighter

   Hanging on my breath as on child’s airplane, I was running

   Crows notified us about the mines in the fields,

   here the knife reached the neck of some granny,

   here the fire reached the childhood in the album,

   here everything reaches

   I was running faster and faster

   Only by the nose profile of the contestant

   who had outrun me at the seventh kilometer

   was it obvious I did not believe in any goal,

   and the darkness began to rise from my soles

   as if the water in the bottle hunted down a beetle

   I ran toward the light at the end of my nostrils,

   the marking line rose from the edge of the road,

   sweet bloody asphalt settled in my mouth,

   and the paper path on my back coiled

   into the snail's house  Body, slimy,

   helpless as a tongue, stammered:

   pain

   Translated by Miroslav Kirin

   Bolnički zid otpao je s ramena,

   plahta je otpala s pete

   Zaboravila sam noge, maternicu i misli,

   kuće su postale lakše

   Obješena o dječji aviončić daha, trčala sam

   Vrane su oglašavale mine u poljima,

   ovdje je nož dostigao vrat neke babe,

   ovdje je vatra dostigla djetinjstvo u albumu,

   ovdje sve dostiže

   Ja sam bježala brže brže

   Tek u profilu nosa natjecatelja 

   koji me prestigao na sedmom kilometru

   vidjelo se da ne vjerujem u cilj,

   i mrak se počeo dizati iz tabana

   kao da voda u boci proganja bubu

   Potrčala sam prema svjetlu na kraju nosnica,

   podigla se traka s ruba ceste,

   slatki krvavi asfalt legao je u usta,

   a papirnati put na leđima savio se

   u puževu kuću Tijelo, slinavo,

   bespomoćno kao jezik, promucalo je:

   bol

8. A WOMAN WHO FLIES FOR THE FIRST TIME / ŽENA KOJA LETI PRVI PUT

   

   

   ENGHRV

   My body temperature was too low,

    

   I watched my skin peel off and fall off,

   the carpets disappeared under the snow

    

   The blades of my books, my pots and lids,

   all in agreement to ignore me

    

   Still, I used my unprotected muscles

   to clear my way to the nearest plane,

    

   sat down, ate a black pepper cookie, and said,

   major tom, major tom, are you still up there?

    

   Then I 

   felt that memories were dangerously accelerating,

   and just when it seemed they would hit the wall,

    

   they went out of their way, lost weight

    

   In the air, I was waiting for the vehicle to touch the ground again,

   just like  the crow waiting for the car tires

    

   to crush the walnut shell and disclose

   its intact naked brain

   Translated by Miroslav Kirin

   Temperatura tijela bila mi je preniska,

         

    promatrala sam kako se koža mrvi i pada,

    pod snijegom su nestajali sagovi

    

    Oštrice mojih knjiga, moji lonci i poklopci,

    sve složno da me prešuti

    

    Ipak sam nezaštićenim mišićima 

    prokrčila put do najbližeg aviona,

    

    sjela, pojela papreni keks, i rekla:

    major tom, major tom, jesi li još uvijek gore?

    

    Tada sam 

    osjetila da se sjećanja opasno ubrzavaju, 

    i baš kad se činilo da će puknuti o zid,

     

    odlijepila su se, izgubila težinu  

    

    U zraku, čekala sam da kola opet dotaknu tlo,

    kao što vrana čeka da gume auta

    

    zgnječe koru oraha i otkriju 

    njen netaknuti goli mozak

9. A BEGGAR RESEMBLING A BLACK CAT / PROSJAK KOJI NALIKUJE CRNOM MAČKU

   

   

   ENGHRV

   Whatever word I said to her

   it made the town a little bigger and more dangerous

    

   A woman with a suitcase in front of the kiosk

   with chicken all dead under aivar spread

   looked into the darkness between her body and the hotel

   and the car headlights made her eyes 

   the eyes of a trapped beast,

   behind which something cold and hard

   quickly and loudly fell onto her palm:

    

   will these two coins be enough?

    

   I love indifference of people,

   because I love when truth is near

    

   In the kiosk the cook has run out of meat

   so he cuts off part of his belly which he then grills,

   and the wallet in her hands suddenly

   opens wide to me,

   black from the saved blood, like a heart

   which the butcher palms off on the old man,

    

   but I am neither blind nor forgetful:

   the thing we call love is often

   just the way to survive

   Translated by Miroslav Kirin

   Svaka riječ koju sam joj uputio 

    napravila je grad malo većim i opasnijim

    

    Žena s kuferom pred kioskom

    u kojem su kokoši mrtve pod ajvarom

    pogledala je u mrak između tijela i hotela

    i farovi su učinili njene oči

    očima zatečene zvijeri, 

    iz kojih je nešto hladno i tvrdo

    brzo bučno palo na dlan:

    

    hoće li mi biti dovoljne dvije kovanice?

    

    Volim ravnodušnost ljudi,

    jer volim kad je istina blizu 

    

    U kiosku kuharu nedostaje mesa

    pa odsjeca od svog trbuha i baca na grill,

    a novčanik u njenim rukama odjednom se 

    rastvara prema meni,

    crn od ušteđene krvi kao srce

    koje mesar podvaljuje starcu,

    

    ali ja nisam ni slijep ni zaboravan: 

    to što zovemo ljubav često je 

    samo način da preživimo

10. A WORKWOMAN OF WORN OUT KNEES / RADNICA ISTROŠENIH KOLJENA

    

    

    ENGHRV

    At four a.m., when other people are dead,

    from the dead I rise

    (be gentle, the land of theirs)

    Across the water I walk

    to the roughest island

     

    I am alone and in company, like the fish

    on the white counter of the factory surrounded by the sea:

     

    the fish which, predictably, 

    smell of stale vaginas,

    the fish which dare not say anything,

    for I tear off their heads,

    I lay down their flesh into gentle oil,

    cover it with the tin tongue

    It's useless

     

    to send them in trucks toward the inland:

    when I return, others will be still dead

    I will resolutely lie down in my bed,

    count how much my day worth is:

    fifty coins

    Little tunas on their reverse

    falling, splashing, squirming,

    nothing will hurt us by morning

     

    Tomorrow

    I will be tearing off their heads, tearing off their heads

     

    One day

    I will be tearing off their heads

    Translated by Miroslav Kirin

    U četiri ujutro, kad drugi ljudi su mrtvi,

    ja od mrtvih ustajem

    (neka im nježno bude kopno)

    Idem preko vode

    do najgrubljeg otoka

     

    Sama sam i zajedno, kao ribe

    na bijelom pultu tvornice okružene morem:

     

    ribe koje, očekivano,

    vonjaju kao ustajale vagine,

    ribe koje se ništa ne usude reći,

    jer im kidam glave, 

    slažem meso u nježno ulje,

    pokrivam jezikom konzerve

    Uzalud ih

     

    kamionima šaljem prema kopnu:

    kad se vratim, drugi će još biti mrtvi 

    Odlučno leći ću u krevet,

    izbrojiti koliko vrijedi moj dan:

    pedeset kovanica

    Male tune na njihovoj poleđini

    padaju, praćakaju se, grče,

    do jutra nas ništa neće boljeti 

     

    Sutra

    kidat ću glave, kidat ću glave

     

    Jednoga dana 

    glave ću kidati