Borben Vladović

Razrezan po cijeloj dužini trbuha
skalpelom studenta medicine
brod-restaurant, postavljen ploštimice
na kuhinjsku dasku za sitnjenje
peršina i sjećanja na plovidbe
Vade mu crijeva, jetrica, svu iznutricu
kako bi mogao biti nadjeven
kasnim gostima lučkoga grada
i ponekim studentom s još
nepoloženim ispitom iz anatomije
Ono uže, na kraju svake
priručne kuharske daske,
vezuje brod-restaurant posljednjim
privezom u luci kod odsjaja pročelja
upravnih zgrada pomorskoga poduzeća
...

U brodskome dimnjaku suše se
pusti oceanski mokri dani
pribodeni oštricom pramca
kao leptiri na plutu zoologa
u mornarev šaroliki dnevnik

Brodski dimnjak je nos
na licu portretiranoga infanta
koji gordo konjem prolazi
kroz ratni metež s kojeg se
još toplo oružje, puši i dimi

Zvižduk što ispušta brodski dimnjak
u prolazu pokraj zavičaja
kao gospodar odbjeglome psu
svojom magličastom moći
zastire, zamjenjuje očište
da se svi zajedno vinu u zrak
...

In the ship's chimney the desolate
ocean days were drying wet days
pinned down by the blade of the ship's bow
like butterflies under the zoologist's cork
in the sailor's colourful diary.

The ship's chimney is a nose
on the face of a portrayed heir to a throne
boldly riding his horse through
the turmoil of war from which
warm arms are still smoking and steaming.

The ship's chimney whistles
passing by the homeland
like a master to a runaway dog
and with its foggy power
veils and changes the standpoint
so that everybody can fly up in the air together
...

Njegovi prsti bubnjaju po stolu
njegovi prsti kovitlaju pseću dlaku
kao prestrašeni đak svoju kosu
Sram sputava vještinu animalista
strah da bezglasna glina neće zalajati
Otvara prozor u nadi da mu kažu
skrućene smrznute krošnje
odakle to mreškanje bez vjetra
letenje pseće dlake
bijele zjenice koje plamte
Zaključao je vrata i zarežao
na sva svoja i tuđa očekivanja
...

With his fingers he is drumming on the table
whirling the dog's hair with his fingers
like a frightened schoolboy with his curls
Shame restrains the craft of an animalist's
fear that voiceless clay will not bark.
He is opening the window in the hope that
rigid frozen branches would tell him
from where comes that windless rippling
the flying of the dog's hair
white eyeballs in flames.
He locked the door and growled
at all his and others' expectations
...

Umrtvljen ispred luke
osoljen još od valova Atlantskog oceana
teretni, kao nos od sunca oljušten, brod
iz helikoptera čini se s gradom
tvori zajedničku sliku
No njihova udaljenost je velika
poput staroga mornara i njegove mladosti
u ovoj istoj luci kišne Venecije
Gleda mornar u nepromijenjenu panoramu
u te razvedene, lijepe, mokre i uspravne
škatule štavljenoga kartona
Pomišlja, treba li i ovaj put otići
među venozni splet gradskih ulica
nalik njegovim nabreklim modrim žilama
na listu neishodane noge
Mjeri udaljenost broda od grada:
može se malim čamcem
a i preplivati se nekada moglo
ali prema onoj sićušnoj zgradi s kupolom
na pola puta do njezina gata
namreškalo se more u obliku otiska
njegova palca prvi put otisnutog
na venecijanskoj staklenoj ruži
...

Numbed in front of the harbour
still salty from the Atlantic Ocean waves,
like a nose peeled by the sun,
from the helicopter, the cargo ship together
with the town made a picture, it seems.
But the distance between them is too large
like the old sailor and his youth
in this same harbour of rainy Venice.
The sailor observes an unchanged panorama
those elaborate, nice, wet and upright
boxes made from leathery cardboard.
He thinks, should I even this time go
into the veined pattern of the streets
that look like swollen blue veins
on the calf of his slow-walking leg.
He is measuring the distance from the ship to the town:
a small boat would do
and once it was possible to swim across
but towards that tiny building with the dome
half way to its pier
the sea wrinkles just like his
thumbprint for the first time stamped
on the Venetian glass rose
...

Siromaška dvorišta uz prugu
presijecaju
užeta s rubljem koje se suši
Suše se mokra ženska srca
i hlače smrznutih nogavica
Kloparaju
vagoni u čijim odraznim prozorima
rublje leprša i putuje
umjesto njihovih vlasnika
Putnici
daju si vezati oči, ruke
uši, ista, ali ne i nos
da bi namirisali svoje odredište
puno spremljenog rublja
...

Backyards of the poor by the railway
were cut by
washing lines with clothes drying.
Women's wet hearts were drying
and the frozen legs of trousers.
Train carriages were
making a noise and in their reflecting windows
clothes were fluttering and travelling
instead of their owners.
Passengers
get their eyes, hands, ears,
mouths covered, but not their noses
so they can smell their destination
piled with neat clothes
...

Koluti starih guma naslagani
poput vjenčića na svadbenoj torti
Dva prerano odrasla dječaka
naslonjeni na vrata u
nimalo svečanoj odori kao u koroti
za tim odbačenim bivšim
gutačima cesta i kilometara
Iz barake i dvorišta
širi se jaki miris vulkaniziranja gume
krpaju se, ugađaju stare strune
Za elastičnost i čvrstoću zaduženi
njih dvojica stražarski ponovno stoje na porti
gledaju spremni s odsutni
u prolazeće oblake i ljude
čekajući presudu raskošne krošnje lipe
hoće li ih taj miris osuditi ili
osloboditi pa skreću noseve prema poroti
...

Rings of old tyres were heaped
like small loops on a wedding cake.
Two early-matured boys
were leaning on the door in
quite unsuitable suits as if in mourning
for those discarded
swallowers of the motorways and kilometres.
From the shed and the yard
the sharp smell of vulcanisation was spreading
and old strings have been repaired and tuned.
The boys are in charge of the elasticity and firmness
and now they are standing again by the entrance
alert but absentminded watching
the clouds and the people passing by
waiting for judgement from the rich linden tree
will they be condemned or set free
by that fragrance, and so they are turning
their noses towards the jury
...

Ogolivši sve svoje putove
stavio je scensku odjeću
pod suhi kamen
Sve ono što je izgledalo
veliko i raskošno
bilo je mokro i svijetlo
S klupe na palubi
putničkoga papirnatog broda
strepi pred plimom
koja podiže obzor
i prijeti odjeći da se
smoči
kamenu
da se otkotrlja do
nekog usjeka i postane
mramor
...

Stripping all his roads
he puts the stage clothes
under the dry stone.
Everything that looked
big and affluent
was wet and bright.
On the deck bench
of the passenger's paper boat
he is afraid of the tide
that lifts the horizon
and threatens the clothes
to become wet
to the stone
it could roll into
some gap and become
a marble
...

Mala trgovina u strmoj ulici
s ulaznim zvoncem
Mozartove glazbe
Prodaju se privjesci
od jantara, križa, Isusa,
staroga novca, iskovanih slova
Prenatrpani pretinci, prigušeno svjetlo
rumena prodavačica sa svežnjem
ključeva
Očito su to pokusni ključevi
za sve ove privjeske?
Nisu, odgovori ručica:
ovi su ključevi za otvaranje
da vi možete ući i jantar
kao uhvaćeni leptir
na mome vratu
...

Iako je to moj stolni kalendar
ne znam da sam zaokružio neki datum
Ali neću istraživati
tko je to učinio jer
mnogi poništavaju moje dane
kaže mi ukućanin-zvjezdoznanac:
taj zaokruženi broj
je važan datum u položajima
svemirskih tijela koja se
sukobljavaju ali ne na tvoju štetu
No, ovo je moj stol, kažem,
moj kalendar, moja kemijska
što je ostavila traga
i evo sada njena boja blijedi
kao i moje usne ispod ništice
na polarnom svjetlu
u punom trku bijelih konja
...

Although it is my table calendar
I do not remember marking any date.
But I will not investigate
who did it because
many are annulling my days.
My household stargazer told me:
that marked number
presents an important date concerning the position
of colliding space bodies
but not at your expense.
But, it is my table, I said,
my calendar, my biro
that left the trail
and now its colour is pale
just like my lips below zero
in the polar light
in the full gallop of white horses
...

Kretalo se iz mjesta sjene
prema raspilanom mirisu svježih dasaka
starom cestom prema moru
Iz donjeg oblaka prašine
uzdignutih zažarenih glava
gledali smo gornju novu magistralu
na čijoj crnoj glazuri klize
nezaustavljive kućice tjeskobe
do kojih ne dopire
svježina blagih valova
Nastavak putovanja s učestalim
zvukom opruge kemijske olovke
i samotnoga revnog cvrčka
starom cestom prema moru
očekujemo panoramu cilja našeg izleta
Vidik počinje na oronule kabine
zapuštenog gradskog kupališta
a na rivi naslagane daske budućih
čamaca nacrtanih i zapisanih
u mojoj bilježnici koja
poskakuje na nemirnom koljenu
osjetljivom na svaki kamičak i neravninu
stare ceste prema moru
...

We have started from the shadow place
towards the sawed smell of fresh boards
on the old road to the sea.
From the lower cloud of dust
holding our glowing heads high
we were watching the upper new highway
and on its black skin the unstoppable
little houses of anxiety were gliding
that were too distant
for the freshness of the tender sea waves.
The journey continued with a frequent
clicking of the ballpoint pen
and the lonely zealous cricket
on the old road to the sea
we were waiting for a view at the end of our journey.
The view began with shabby cabins
on the unkempt city beach
and on the seafront boards were stacked for some future
boats drawn and written
in my notebook jumping
on my restless knee
that detects every pebble and slant
on the old road to the sea
...