Granny's Death ~ Bakina Smrt Poem by Jankovic Zoran

Granny's death

When I was 17 years old
My grandmother died,
the woman I loved immensely.
I was crying.

My mother, the next day, said:
"Your mustache grows. You have a girlfriend.
You're a good guy, but you have to grow up. "
That was almost 50 years ago.



Today I give you advice:
"Good, young man,
I sympathize with your sorrow.
Sadness is part of life. Accept it.
But you will not be able to grow up
if your consolation is a woman
who will, by force, to be young;
who makes a boy from a man;
who wants to replace your Granny."

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Kad sam imao 15 godina
umrla mi je baka,
žena koju sam neizmjerno volio.
Plakao sam.

Majka mi je, sutradan, rekla:
"Rastu ti brkovi. Imaš djevojku.
Dobar si momak ali moraš da odrasteš."
To je bilo prije skoro 50 godina.

Danas ja tebi dajem savjet:
"Dobri, mladi čovječe,
Ja saosjećam sa tvojom tugom.
Žalost je dio života. Prihvati je.
Ali nećeš moći da odrasteš
ako ti utjeha bude žena
koja hoće, na silu, da bude mlada;
koja od čovjeka pravi dječaka;
koja hoće da ti zamjeni Baku."