MRVE

Mrve leže na stolu, čekaju da se sasuše,
ako ih Neizbežno i pre toga ne pokupi.
Isto tako je sa mnom, govorim levoj ruci
dok usporavam drugu, što još želi da radi.
Brzina ne užasava, dok je ne dostižemo:
ona je uvek sa nama, čak i kada nas nema,
odsutnih, tupih, u snu.
Tu nas nikad ne prestigne.

Da li sam sanjao mrve?
Ne, to se nije desilo, bez znatnijeg gubitka.
One se uvek sasuše, i u dubini mora:
to bih hteo da kažem, kada bi bilo tačno.
Dobro je i ovako. Posedeću još malo,
leći: neka me pokupe.
Tako se otvara svet što ne zna za gubitak
jer je davno dobijen da ne bi bio smrvljen.

© Vladimir Kopicl

CRUMBS

The crumbs lie on the table waiting to get dry
just in case the Unavoidable forgot to collect them.
The same with me, I speak to my left hand
while slowing the other hand down, the one which would rather work.
The speed does not frighten us as long as we cannot obtain it;
It is always with us, even when we are not around,
when we are absent, numb or asleep.
It never reaches us there.

Had I dreamt of the crumbs?
No, it did not happen, no significant loss here.
They always dry out, even at the bottom of the deepest sea:
This is what I was about to say, had it been correct elsewhere.
It is also good this way. I will remain seated a bit longer,
go to bed, let them collect me.
In this way we open the world which suffers no loss
as it was gained awhile ago so that it wouldn’t crumble down.

Translated into English by Nina Živančević