Jednorog

Ležeć njoj do nogu, usred polja žita,
vena presječenih, smireno se pita
kad će osmijeh skinut grč sa milog lica.
Ona ljušti kabel, stišće svežanj žica,  

hoće spriječit protok. Napon struje pada.
Htjela bi da njegov život teče duže;
drži trošno uže i kad pline nada.
Hoće li popustit stisak, proći bol

što ga stvara strašni djevičanski spol
žudnjom da sve spasi odavde do neba?
Malo mira, samo malo mira treba  

ovo krotko biće samo s jednim rogom.
Slab je on i pitom; razblažen k'o voda.
Pusti nek isteče, ode s milim bogom.

© Sibila Petlevski
Aus: Koreografija patnje
Zagreb: Konzor, 2002
Audioproduktion: David Gazarov, 2008

Weak as Water

Lying quite at her feet,

veins cut, in a field of wheat,

he expects her face would relax

in a smile. Teasing flex,


disturbing the peaceful

current of his life, she holds on

a fretted rope, beyond hope.

He hopes her grip would relax


but that frightful virgin sex

does not seem to let him go.

All he seeks is a little bit of peace.


He’s meek. Tame as a unicorn

and weak. Weak as water.

Virgin Mary, let him spring a leak.

Written in English