Miroslav Kirin

хорватский

Boris Gregorić

английский

PITAJTE CIPELU

Što radi cipela u travi u parku? Odmah ju pitajte.
Dajte joj do znanja da je to nedopustivo. Pitajte ju
zašto je sama, gdje joj je lijeva ili desna, zašto ju ne traži.
Zašto je pristala na samoću. Poslije pljuska puna je
mutne vode. Noću se u nju uvlače kukci. No to ju ne grije.
Pitajte ju kako je tako daleko dospjela, da više ne zna gdje joj je druga.
Zar ne osjeća potrebu da ju sretne, da se jedna drugoj ispričaju
i potom budu spokojne? Pitajte ju i gdje joj je čarapa,
koju je netko morao skinuti, zbog vrućine, znoja. I nju mora
tražiti. Da se čarapa ne osjeća odbačenom. Zato brzo u potragu.
Negdje su i hlače, na njima džepovi, kad ih izvrneš, ispadnu
dokumenti, ili ispadne ništa. Opasač, ako postoji na tim hlačama,
drži li još tijelo, ili tijelo njega? Njemu je košulja lisnato stablo,
i cvijet, ponosi se njime. A najvrjednija je glava, ako je još gore,
koja zna gdje joj je lijeva, a gdje desna cipela. No ako nje nema,
nema ni cipele, ni lijeve ni desne, a ova cipela u travi u parku
samo je cipela bez svojega živoga tijela,
i to je ta žalost s kojom je natapa kiša.

© Miroslav Kirin
Из: Zbiljka
Zagreb: Vuković & Runjić, 2009
Аудиопроизводство: Tomislav Krevzelj, Udruga radio mreza 2011

ABOUT THE SHOE

What is a shoe doing in the grass of the park? Ask her at once.
Let her know it is outrageous. Ask her why she’s alone,
where her left or right match is, why she’s not looking for it.
Why she has agreed to be alone. After the shower she’s full of
murky water. At night, insects crawl into her. But that does not
warm her up. Ask her how she got this far, so that she knows not
where her match is. Does she feel no need to meet the other, to apologize
and be at ease afterwards? Ask her also about her sock, someone must have taken her off, because of the heat and the sweat. She must look for her, too.
So that the sock will not feel abandoned. Therefore, search quickly.
The pants are someplace too, the pockets on them, when you turn them
inside out, the ID cards fall out, or nothing at all. The belt, if there is one
on these pants, does he still hold the body, or the body hold him?
The shirt is a leafy tree to him, and a flower, a source of its pride.
But most worthy is the head, if it is still above, knowing where
her left and where her right shoe is. But if the head is missing,
there’s no shoe, neither the left nor the right one,
and the shoe in the grass of the park is just a shoe without its living body,
and that is the sorrow the rain soaks her with.

Translated into English by Boris Gregorić