Ana Pepelnik, Matthew Zapruder
angleščina
Kako brati in zakaj
Ne, kar je bilo zares, ampak kako
je bilo zapisano. V zvezdah in premikih
prometa, v hišah na samem in velikih mestih.
Jezus je prava rešitev za vse težave, pravijo
pridigarji na vogalih in prenosnih odrih.
In šele takrat imamo pravo zabavo.
Kako to brati in zakaj
imeti sveto pismo za podstavek,
biti ta napol ležeči bralec
živčne besede, ki se lušči od stropa
tako diskretno kot pojasnilo.
Saj naše knjige govorijo vse kaj drugega.
Prej je bila ljubezen večna,
a nekaj je moralo iti narobe.
Kako to brati in zakaj
je treba skozi ta pekel in kaj reči
bitjem, ki so bila tu pred nama
in bojo ostala, ko bova že zdavnaj mimo.
Kot da bi obstajal še en pekel,
ki ni tako pekoč in se lahko zbudiš
iz njega kot iz more.
Saj ne, kar je zares, ampak kar je
zapisano. V zvezkih, ki se sklonijo nad naju
kot prelomljene obljube,
umiram od žeje, da bi te spet videl srečno,
kot si bila takrat, ko sva se srečala.
Še vedno sva prosta in živa.
Občutljiva kot rastlina v polepljenem lončku,
ki ni uvela in že ves čas narašča
v nekaj, kar bo preživelo. Najine
približne predstave o strahu,
ki sva ga prepoznala drug v drugem.
Bil je najin, tu ni dvoma.
In vedno znova pojasnilo, vedno znova.
Iz: Delo in dom
Ljubljana: Lud Literatura, 2007
Avdio produkcija: 2008
How to read and why
Not what it really was but how
it was written. In stars and shifts
in traffic in desolate houses, and big cities.
Jesus is the true answer for all the troubles, preachers
say on street-corners and makeshift platforms.
And only then do we have a real show.
How to read this and why
the holy bible for a pedestal
to be this reader, half-reclining, reading
hectic words, peeling off from the ceiling
discretely like an explanation.
It’s that our books say anything but this.
Love used to be eternal
but something must have gone amiss.
How to read this and why
do you need to go through this hell and what to say
to beings who were here before the two of us
and will remain once we are gone.
As though there were another hell
but not as spicy and you can easily wake up
from it as from a nightmare.
Not what’s really true but what’s
written. In notebooks bending over us
like broken promises,
I’m dying of thirst to see you happy
again, as you were when we first met.
We still are free and alive.
Vulnerable like a flower in a small decorated pot,
it has not wilted, all along it rises
into something that will outlive. Our
vague images of fear
we recognized in each other.
No doubt, it was ours.
And every time over and again explanations.