Pesma

Ti koja imaš ruke nevinije od mojih

Ti koja imaš ruke nevinije od mojih
i koja si mudra kao bezbrižnost.
Ti koja umiješ s njegova čela čitati
bolje od mene njegovu samoću,
i koja otklanjaš spore sjenke
kolebanja s njegova lica
kao što proljetni vjetar otklanja
sjene oblaka koje plove nad brijegom.

Ako tvoj zagrljaj hrabri srce
i tvoja bedra zaustavljaju bol,
ako je tvoje ime počinak
njegovim mislima, i tvoje grlo
hladovina njegovu ležaju,
i noć tvojega glasa voćnjak
još nedodirnut olujama.

Onda ostani pokraj njega
i budi pobožnija od sviju
koje su ga ljubile prije tebe.
Boj se jeka što se približuju
nedužnim posteljama ljubavi.
I blaga budi njegovu snu
pod nevidljivom planinom
na rubu mora koje huči.

Šeći njegovim žalom. Neka te susreću
ožalošćene pliskavice.
Tumaraj njegovom šumom. Prijazni gušteri
neće ti učiniti zla.
I žedne zmije koje ja ukrotih
pred tobom biti će ponizne.

Neka ti pjevaju ptice koje ja ogrijah
u noćima oštrih mrazova.
Neka te miluje dječak kojega zaštitih
od uhoda na pustom drumu.
Neka ti miriše cvijeće koje ja zalivah
svojim suzama.

Ja ne dočekah naljepše doba
njegove muškosti. Njegovu plodnost
ne primih u svoja njedra
koja su pustošili pogledi
goniča stoke na sajmovima
i pohlepnih razbojnika.

Ja neću nikad voditi za ruku
njegovu djecu. I priče
koje za njih davno pripremih
možda ću ispričati plačući
malim ubogim medvjedima
ostavljenim u crnoj šumi.

Ti koja imaš ruke nevinije od mojih,
budi blaga njegovu snu
koji je ostao bezazlen.

Ali mi dopusti da vidim
njegovo lice, dok na njega budu
silazile nepoznate godine.

I reci mi katkad nešto o njemu,
da ne moram pitati strance
koji mi se čude, i susjede
koji žale moju strpljivost.

Ti koja imaš ruke nevinije od mojih,
ostani kraj njegova uzglavlja
i budi blaga njegovu snu.

English Translation

You Whose Hands Are More Innocent Than Mine

You whose hands are more innocent than mine
and who is as wise as nonchalance
You who is better than me
at reading his loneliness from his forehead
and who removes slow shadows of doubts
from his face
like the spring wind removes
shadows of clouds floating over the hill.

If your hug gives courage to the heart
and your thighs stop the pain,
if your name gives peace
to his thoughts, and your throat
a shade to his berth
and the night of your voice, an orchard
still untouched by storms.

Then stay beside him
and be more devoted than anyone else
who loved him before you.
Fear the echo approaching
the innocent love nests.
And be gentle with his dream
bellow the invisible mountain
at the edge of the soughing sea.

Walk around his coast. Be seen
by sorrowful dolphins.
Wander around his woods. Kind lizards
wont do you any harm.
And the thirsty snakes that I tamed
will be humble before you.

May the birds that I kept warm sing to you
in the nights of sharp frost.
May the boy that I protected from
stalkers on a deserted road
caress you
May the flowers that I watered with my tears
bring fragrance to you.

I didn’t witness the best years
of his manhood. His fertility
I haven’t received in my bosom
ravaged by looks
from cattle drivers at fairs
and from greedy thieves.

I will never take care
of his children. And the stories
that I’ve prepared for them long ago
I might tell, crying,
to little miserable bears
abandoned in black forest.

You whose hands are more innocent than mine
be gentle with his dream
that remained harmless.

But let me see him
his face when strange years
start to come down on it.

And tell me sometimes a thing or two about him
so that I don’t have to ask strangers
who find me silly, and neighbors
who pity my patience.

You whose hands are more innocent than mine,
stay beside his pillow
and be gentle with his dream!