Danijel Brcko 
Translator

on Lyrikline: 3 poems translated

from: croatian to: english

Original

Translation

sajmeni dan

croatian | Olja Savičević Ivančević

imam prekrasnu kćer
danas je u svom kabrioletu
vodim u grad na sajam
nad nama nebo za piknik
uz cestu
ljudi čvrstih vilica
žvaču gume
i podižu šešire na pozdrav

imam prekrasnu djevojčicu
umijesila sam je od svijetlog mesa
od vlastitog zdravlja
noću dok spavamo na jastuku
njena se zlatna kosa
u moju crnu zapleće
a danju se sretne spuštamo do plaže

danas je u svom kabrioletu
vodim na sajam prvi put
kupit ću joj sve što poželi
šarene zlatne i beskorisne stvari
samo da začujem njen smijeh
zajedno ćemo pjevati na povratku
jednu pjesmu o ptici

kažem vam, imam najdražu kćer
vozim je polako da vidi
svijet koji sam za nju složila
od najsjajnijih gradova
a ulicu kojom sam se nekad
spuštala do mora
za nju sam produžila u beskraj

© Olja Savičević Ivančević

Market Day

english

I have a beautiful daughter
today I am taking her to town in my convertible
to see the market
overhead the sky is ideal for a picnic
by the roadside
people with powerful jaws
are chewing gum
and putting their hats up in greeting

I have a beautiful little girl
I kneaded her out of pink flesh
out of my own vigour
at night when we sleep on the pillow
her golden hair  
gets entangled in my black hair
and by day we go down to the beach happily

today I am taking her to see the market im my convertible
for the first time
I will buy her anything she wants
colourful golden and useless things
just to hear her laughter
on our way back we will sing together
a song about a bird

I am telling you, I have the dearest daughter
I am driving slowly so that she could see
the world that I have put together for her
from the most dazzling cities
and the street that I used to tread
on my way down to the sea
for her I have made it endlessly long

Translated by Danijel Brcko

Bossa Nova

croatian | Olja Savičević Ivančević

neka ljeto drhti ispred naših vrata
nemoj mu otvoriti nek umre od želje
mi ćemo se smijati gole i crne
i probavati gospođine haljine
plesat ćemo čitav dan djevojčice
pokraj starog gramofona
lijeno kao mačke
na prstima na petama okret
tvoje su ruke u zraku
moje su ruke na struku
dozivaju nas mornari pod prozorom
oni znaju naša imena
ti si marmelada od šljive
ja od gorke naranče

© Olja Savičević Ivančević

Bossa Nova

english

Let the summer shiver outside our door
Do not let him in let him burn with desire
We will laugh naked and black
And try on madam's dresses
We will dance all day long, girl
By the old record player
As lazy as cats
On our toes on our heels we turn
Your hands are in the air
My hands are on my waist
Sailors beneath the window are calling us
They know our names
You are Plum Jam
I am Bitter Orange

Translated by Danijel Brcko

MOJ ČOVJEK PSALAM

croatian | Dorta Jagić

niz
mlaz
kroz oluke
gričke topove, viadukte
i kabanice vinule se molitve ocu
s taman dovoljno koljena
odapete pravo u treće nebo
i poslije najuže, četvrte strašne zime
kao jeka šiknuše, doletješe nam
u staro malo hrvatsko nebo
kao lav, golubovi, ribe lijepe
te trojstvene božje oči
te oči kao ljetni vlak za split
kao noćno sanjkanje, kao agavin
prsnuli život
ovdje je nebo lazar, izađi
lazar nebo je odvalilo kamen i izašlo
iz gliptoteke stolne crkve
odmotalo zavoje, iscjelilo svoju suhu
betlehemsku zvijezdu.
nisko pod njim božje su ruke
zadavile oblake krivnje
znaš koje one što su ih stare svinje
oprasile iu svraki, crnih kopčica saveza
s izidom i bebom koja ne raste
nit zna tko je taj ranjenik
taj moj čovjek psalam
sad napokon pjeva slobodan
ubrzano diše na božje oči
kao dijete što je netom istrčalo
iz otključanoga ormara
nema više naslijeđenog tereta predaka
pa u tri dana izrasta u sav dovoljan dom
meni i djeci, božjim riječima
što ih razmazuje po ulju, potoku
noću slika psalme u ateljeu,
imenuje voće i stvari
svake subote
snima dokumentarac o svojoj šetnji
edenskim vrtom i držanju za spasiteljevu
probodenu ruku
i kako mu tada iz usta
ispadaju i suše se na tlu sve one
plastične molitve svecima
u nanizanim zrnima
na napuhivanje i
umiranje

© Dorta Jagić
Audio production: Tomislav Krevzelj, Udruga radio mreza 2011

MY MAN A PSALM

english

down the
spurt
through the drainpipes
the cannons of grič, the viaducts
and the raincoats prayers soared to the Father
with just the right number of knees
discharged straight into the third heaven
and following the longest, fourth terrible winter
they gushed forth like a echo, came flying to us
into the little Croatian sky
like a lion, pigeons, fish
these Gods eyes of the Trinity
these eyes like a summer train to Split
like night sledging, like a cracked life
of an agava
here the sky is Lazarus, come out
the Lazar-sky has rolled away the stone and has come out
of the catedrals museum of sculpture
has unswathed the bandages, cured its dry
star of Bethlehem.
low underneath Gods hands
have strangled the clouds og guilt
you know which the ones that old pigs
have farrowed, from magpies, the little black clasps of the alliance
with Isis and a baby that neither grows
nor knows who that wounded man is
that man psalm of mine
now finally he sings freely
breathing rapidly through Gods eyes
liek a child who has just run out from
an ulocked closet
the ancestors inherited burden is gone
and in three-days time it grows into all the home
me and my children need, by virtue of Gods words
smeared on the oil, the brook
at night paints psalms in the atelier,
names fruit and things
every Saturday
films a documentary about his stroll
through the garden of Eden and his holding the Saviours
hand with a nail in it
and how all those
plastic prayers to the saints
are falling out of his mouth and drying on the ground
in a sring of grains
for inflating
and dying

Translated by Danijel Brcko