TRI KREZUBE VJEŠTICE

Njezin je pogled nož zaboden u kruh.
Zatvorila je oči da se ne otruse
posivjele uspomene
sa njezinih zjenica.
Stavila sam joj dva zlatnika na vjeđe
i rekla: spavaj, sigurno si umorna.

Jučer je ujutro okrhnula zub.
Spremila je krunu u kutiju i okopnila.
Godinama sam vjerovala da je ona šumska
da su njezini zubi klanci za lješnjake i orah

i možda su doista bili.
Od dana kad se izgubila viđam
kako na svakom od stolova stoji kruh
i u njemu nož.

U našoj je sobi previše kuća.
U svakoj je kući stol.
Na svakom stolu tri krezube vještice
grizu šiljasti kut.

© Marija Dejanović
De: Etika kruha i konja
Zagreb: SKUD IGK, 2018

Three Toothless Witches

Her gaze is a knife stuck into bread.
She closed her eyes not to shed
faded memories
from her pupils.
I placed two shiners on her eyelids
and said sleep, you must be tired.

Yesterday morning, she chipped a tooth.
She put the crown into a box and withered.
For years I believed that she was a forest,
that the slopes of her teeth hid hazelnuts,

and maybe they really did.
Since she vanished, I’ve been seeing
a loaf of bread on each table
and a knife stuck in it.

There are too many houses in our room.
In each house, there is a table.
Around each table, three toothless witches
chew at the narrow end.

Translated by: Hana Samaržija