An Ordinary Poem

An Ordinary Poem

By Milan Rakić

Fleeting was the love in our heart,
It lasted for an instant-just a year.
But, suddenly ill fate did us apart,
With no sigh, no wound and no tear.

We’d spend quarreling half a day;
In painful conciliation half a night.
From our flat I would oft run away,
In quiet and solitude seeking delight.

However, it all lasted so very short;
Alien to each other we did become;
We beheld each other long, all numb,
Indifferent, as a satiated child to a torte.

And now it’s all in the past; and I
Cannot curse either the sky or fate,
And with my fists tight and a woeful eye,
All women and their spite I cannot hate.

Still – I wish you’d sometimes known
Of this soul the immense, tragic fire,
And the overpowering love of my own
Destroying all dreams, hope and desire;

Still – I wish you’d sometimes desired
Enchanted, to find a word, as silk soft
And tender, in your heart all inspired –
Then we might have been happy for oft

Now it slowly goes by the time no short;
As alien to each other we’ve become;
We behold each other long, all numb,
Indifferent, as a satiated child to a torte.

Translation from the Serbian by:
Ljiljana Parović

Obična pesma

Naša je ljubav bila kratkog veka,
Trenutak jedan – tek godinu dana.
I rastavi nas naglo sudba preka,
Bez uzdisaja, bez suza, bez rana.

U svađi nam je prošlo pola dana;
U pomirenju mučnom pola noći.
I bežao sam iz našeg stana,
Tražeći mira u poljskoj samoći.

No to je bilo kratko vreme;
Pa postadosmo tuđi jedno drugom;
I gledasmo se u ćutanju dugom,
Tupo, k’o sito dete šećerleme.

I tako sve je prošlo; i ja sada
Ne mogu kleti nebo ni sudbinu,
Il’ s pesnicama stisnutim, pun jada,
Prokleti žene ili podlost njinu

Pa ipak – da si samo katkad znala
Veliki, kobni oganj duše ove,
I silnu ljubav što ništi k’o hala
Sve druge misli i nade i snove; –

Pa ipak – da si samo katkad htela
U zanosu, i sličnu mekoj svili,
Da nađeš nežnu reč iz srca vrela –
I mi bi možda dugo srećni bili

A sad polako teče ovo vreme;
Postasmo tako tuđi jedno drugom;
I gledamo se u ćutanju dugom
Tupo, k’o sito dete šećerleme.

milan-rakic

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