Starinska ura na ormaru spava.
Kazaljke njene vec se rdjom zute.
Umorna lampa tiho ocrtava
prostore uske, samotnicke pute.

Ja ne znam gdje sam? Nesto tamno slute
umorne oci. Noc je. Topla. Plava.
Tako je tesko kada stvari sute
i kad se mijesa proslost, san i java.

Pa gasim staru lampu, sklapam oci.
Nitko mi nece u posjete doci,
ni tat, ni gost, ni drug, ni draga zena.

Naslonim glavu na krilo samoci
i slusam zvizduk vlakova u noci.
— O, gdje si sada, gdje si, Bezimena?

Bezimenoj    —   To The Nameless One

Translated by     Peter Russell                  

(1921 - 2003)

Gustav Krklec (1899 - 1977); Croatia. Born in Udbina; his first poems were filled with hope after the First World War,
 but this quickly turned to horror as political events overshadowed his life.
However, towards old age, he gained a serenity from the natural world before dying in Zagreb.
He has published many collections of poems.

[ Gustav Krklec ]

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The old timepiece on the mantle-shelf is idling,
Its hands have long been yellowing with the smoke.
The lamp's nodding flame only describes
Constricted space, solitary journeys.

I've no idea where I am, — my smarting eyes
Darkly surmise something. It's night, hot, deep blue.
It's hard when everyone and everything keep silent,
And when the past butts in confounding wakefulness with dreams.

I snuff the rickety lamp and close my eyes.
Nobody's going to come on a visit now —
Neither a thief nor a stranger, nor a friend or the woman I love.

I lay my head in the lap of solitudes,
       And listen to the train-whistles coupling the night.
             Where are you now you never had a name?

Gustav Krklec

 (1899 - 1977)