Životni put

Pletuć jezik, posrćuć i ư nesvijest se
rušeć, ja sam znala pokazivat sitne
modrice k'o eksponate, moleć ljude:
«Ne dirajte», premda nitko nije htio

dirat, nije htio gledat, čak ni znao
vidjet galge, mrtva slova što s njih vise
kao zakon izložena kiši, vjetru,
porugama, volji, potrebama ptica.

Gavrani su hranili me četrdeset
punih dana, gavrani su hranili me,
pa sad biram drugi put i drugi poziv.

Slatka moja usta, zadovoljstva sita,
poslije mesa mole. Nisam više ona    
što iz Knjige samo prije jela čita.

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

Walk of Life

Maudlin, stumbling’, falling senseless

to the ground, I used to show

my little bruises like exhibits,

pleading people not to touch them,


though they never cared a hang,

not even noticed wooden gibbets –

warnings put in words, exposed

to rain and ridicule and birds.


Forty days fed by ravens.

Forty days fed by ravens,

I have changed my walk of life.


Cloyed with pleasure, rich & sweet,

my lips are now saying grace

not before, but after meat.

Written in English