The Eyes

The Eyes

By Milutin Bojić

Your eyes torment me, inconstant, yet dear,
As black as death, as a smile gentle tho
Both deep blue and green-opaline, as a tear
Crystal-clear
And as soft as snow.
Their noble gaze follows me everywhere.
I become a numb and listless doll
O’er which gathers a row of clouds fair,
But which does despair
At your blood imbuing it all.
I hear their voice as the qualm of my own,
I can see them in the stars when born;
Steel-like, they reach my every bone
And penetrate, ruinous,
Turbid as a creek in a spring morn.
Unstarved as cursed eternally
Fields that by the deceased are fed,
For somebody else’s offence on me
They get revenge and threaten, those eyes
That never lose shine even when dead.

Translation from the Serbian by:
Ljiljana Parović

Oči

Muče me tvoje oči nikad stalne,
Čas smrtno crne, čas ko osmeh nežne,
Čas modro plave, zeleno opalne,
Kristalne
I meke kao pahuljice snežne.
Njin gospodski pogled svud me prati.
Ja bivam nema i bezvoljna lutka
Iznad koje se niz oblaka jati,
A pati
Što krv će tvoja u nju da se utka.
Čujem reč njinu ko vlastitu grižu,
U zvezdama ih vidim kad se rode;
Čelične, one do kosti mi stižu
I sižu
Razorne, mutne ko proletnje vode.
Neizgladljive ko večno klete
Poljane, koje mrtve use zgrću,
Za tuđi ujed na meni se svete
I prete
Te oči koje ne tamne ni smrću.

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