At Dusk One Evening

At Dusk One Evening

By Jovan Dučić

The skies were bleary and torn,
The cold gripped my room so lone;
Coming from the garden forlorn
Was the music of rain. We were alone.

The wind roared around my place
A tune of sorrow. And I beheld so
On her brow and on her silk face,
The bleary evening dying slow.

Numb we were; but it does appear
That in our long silence that night,
Alone and sad in that quiet sheer,
All history of hearts we unveiled quite,

All secret thoughts, ominous and sore,
And the fear of past suffering and pain…
Listening that bleary evening of yore
To the song of winds and music of the rain.

Translation from the Serbian by:
Ljiljana Parović

Jedne večeri u suton

Nebesa behu mutna i razdrta,
Studen u nemoj sobnoj polutami;
I dopiraše iz samotnog vrta
Muzika kiše. Mi smo bili sami.

Hujaše negde vetar oko vile
Pesmu o tuzi. I ja gledah tako
Na njenom čelu i licu od svile,
Gde mutno veče umire, polako.

Mi besmo nemi; ali mi se čini
To veče da smo u ćutanju dugom,
Sami i tužni u hladnoj tišini,
Svu povest srca rekli jedno drugom.

I tajne misli bolne i zloslutne,
I strah od patnja kojih nema više…
Slušajuć tako te večeri mutne
Vetrova pesmu i muziku kiše.

 

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