©  Carmen Ezgeta

                     Ti koja imas nevinije ruke od mojih
             i koja si mudra kao bezbriznost.
       Ti koja umijes s njegova cela citati
bolje od mene njegovu samocu,
i koja otklanjas spore sjenke
kolebanja s njegova lica
kao sto proljetni vjetar otklanja
sjene oblaka koje plove nad brijegom.

Ako tvoj zagrljaj hrabri srce
i tvoja bedra zaustavljaju bol,
ako je tvoje ime pocinak
njegovim mislima, i tvoje grlo
hladovina njegovu lezaju,
i noc tvojega glasa vocnjak
jos nedirnut olujama.

Onda ostani pokraj njega
i budi poboznija od sviju
koje su ga ljubile prije tebe.
Boj se jeka sto se priblizuju
neduznim posteljama ljubavi.
I blaga budi njegovu snu,
pod nevidljivom planinom
na rubu mora koje huci.

Seci njegovim zalom. Neka te susrecu
ozaloscene pliskavice.
Tumaraj njegovom sumom. Prijazni gusteri
nece ti uciniti zla.
I zedne zmije koje ja ukrotih
pred tobom ce biti ponizne.

Neka ti pjevaju ptice koje ja ogrijah
u nocima ostrih mrazova.
Neka te miluje djecak kojega zastitih
od uhoda na pustom drumu.
Neka ti mirise cvijece koje ja zalijevah
svojim suzama.

Ja ne docekah najljepse doba
njegove muskosti. Njegovu plodnost
ne primih u svoja njedra
koja su pustosili pogledi
gonica stoke na sajmovima
i pohlepnih razbojnika.

Ja necu nikada voditi za ruku
njegovu djecu. I price
koje za njih davno pripremih
mozda cu ispricati placuci
malim ubogim medvjedima
ostavljenim u crnoj sumi.

Ti koja imas nevinije ruke 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 nesto o njemu,
da ne moram pitati strance
koji mi se cude, i susjede
   koji zale moju strpljivost.

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

You with hands more innocent than mine                    
and with the wisdom of nonchalance.             
You who can read his loneliness     
from his forehead better than I,
and remowe the slow shadows of hesitation
from his face,
as the spring wind removes
the shadows of clouds floating above the hill.

If your embrace gives courage to the heart
and your thighs detain the pain,
if your name gives rest
to his thoughts, and your neck
is a shade to his resting place,
and if the night of your voice is
a grove still untouched storms.

Than stay by him,
and be more devout than those
who had loved him before you.
Beware the din that approaches
the innocent nests of love.
Be gentle to his sleep
below the invisible mountain
at the edge of the roaring sea.

Walk along his shore.
May the sadded dolphins meet you.
Wander in his woods. Friendly lizards
will not harm you.
And the thirsty serpents that I tamed
will be humble before you.

May the birds which I warmed
in the nights of sharp frost sign to you.
May the boy whom on a deserted road
I protected from spies caress you.
May the flowers I watered with my tears
bring fragrance to you.

I was not blessed to witness
the best years of his manliness.
I did not receive his fertility
into my bosom ravaged by glances
of cattle drovers at faires,
and those of greedy thieves.

His children
I shall never lead by the hand. And the stories
which I prepared for them a long time ago
maybe I shall tell weeping
to poor little bears
abandoned in black forest.

You with hands more innocent than mine
be gentle to his sleep
which is still innocent.
Yet permit me to see his face
when years unknown to me
proceed to descend upon it.

And tell me at times a thing or two about him
that I may not have to question wondering
strangers and neighbors
who have pity for my patience.  

You with hands more innocent than mine      
stay by his headrest,           
and be gentle to his sleep!               

Ti koja imas nevinije ruke —  You with hands more innocent

Vesna Parun