Waiting

Waiting

By Milan Rakić

By an old mulberry-tree, I await the moon
To set, and you to come down a small
Meandering lane, veiled by the gloom,
To me, standing alone and yearning all.

Minutes go lazily by as I await grim,
A distant belfry strikes hours still,
It’s dawning, the Milky Way grows dim,
But I’m still waiting and I always will!

Oh, what is it that ties me all
To a complexion, to a body, why
Does my soul quiver whole, why
Does it, so feeble, expire and fall,
When a pale hand I’m touched by?

Mesmerized by the miraculous glow
Of your beauty, weak and breathless,
As if I were to leave this world, I go
To you, in divine awe and restless,
I stumble, I shake, drawn by the allure
And passionate murky shine
Of, as a chasm deep and obscure,
The dark and inexorable eyes of thine.

Translation from the Serbian by:
Ljiljana Parović

Čekanje

Čekam u senci jednog starog duda
da mesec zađe i, skrivena tamom,
po uskoj stazi što kroz noć krivuda,
da siđeš k meni čežnjivom i samom.

Čekam, a lenjo prolaze minuti,
i sati biju na tornju daleko.
Već zora sviće, blede mlečni puti,
a ja još čekam, – i večno bih ček’o!

O, šta je to što mene veže sada
za jednu put, za jedan oblik tela,
i što mi duša zatreperi cela,
i sva nemoćna izdiše i pada,
kad me se takne jedna ruka bela!

I sav zasenjen pred čudesnim sjajem
lepote tvoje, slab, bez jednog daha,
kao da svakog časa život dajem,
prilazim tebi pun pobožnog straha,
posrćem, klecam, dokle me privlače,
ko provalija tamna i duboka,
i dok se strasnim prelivima mrače,
tvoja dva crna neumitna oka…

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