Tishani Doshi

angleščina

Tomica Bajsić

hrvaščina

Walking Around

It happens that I am tired of being a woman.
It happens that I cannot walk past country clubs
or consulates without considering the hags,
skinny as guitar strings, foraging in the rubbish.

All along the streets there are forlorn mansions
where girls have grown up and vanished.
I am vanishing too. I want nothing to do with gates
nor balconies nor flat-screen TVs. 

It happens that I am tired of my veins and my hips,
and my navel and my sorrows.
It happens that I am tired of being a woman.

Just the same it would be joyous
To flash my legs at the drivers playing chess,
to lead the old man at house 38
onto the tarred road to lie down
under the laburnum dripping gold.

I do not want to keep growing in this skin,
to swell to the size of a mausoleum.
I do not want to be matriarch or mother.
Understand, I am only in love
with these undrunk breasts.

And when Monday arrives with the usual
battalion of pear-shaped wives who do battle
in grocery store aisles,
I’ll be stalking the fields of concrete and ash,

the days pushing me from street
to street, leading me elsewhere –
to houses without ceiling fans
where daughters disappear and the walls weep.

I will weep too for high-heeled beauty queens,
for sewing machines and chickens in cages.
I will walk with my harness
and exiled feet through cravings
and renunciations, through heaps
of midnight wreckages 
where magistrates of crows gather
to sing the same broken song
of unforgiving loss.

© Tishani Doshi
Iz: Everything Begins Elswhere
Noida: HarperCollins Publishers India, 2012
Avdio produkcija: Literaturwerkstatt Berlin 2014

Hodajući okolo

Dogodi se da budem umorna biti žena.
Dogodi se da ne mogu hodati pored društvenih klubova
ili konzulata i ne vidjeti odrpane starice, mršave
poput žica na gitari, dok kopaju po kantama za smeće.

Sve uzduž ulica napuštena su obitavališta ljudi
gdje su djevojke odrastale i potom nestale.
Ja isto nestajem. Ne želim imati ništa s kapijama
ili balkonima ili plazma televizorima.

Događa se da sam umorna od mojih vena i bokova,
i mojeg pupka i mojih tuga.
Dogodi se da sam umorna od toga što sam žena.

Bez obzira na to bilo bi veselo
izazovnim nogama pred vozače koji igraju šah,
izvesti starca iz kuće br. 38 kako bi legao
uz cestu od katrana pod drvo laburnuma,
žutih cvjetova koji kaplju zlato.


Ne želim i dalje rasti u ovoj koži,
nabujati do veličine mauzoleja.
Ne želim biti matrijarh ili majka.
Shvatite me, ja sam zaljubljena
jedino u ove nedojene grudi.

A kada dođe ponedjeljak s uobičajenim
bataljunom kruškolikih žena koje biju bitku
po prolazima robnih kuća,
ja ću se prikradati poljima betona i pepela,

ovi dani me guraju s ulice
u drugu ulicu, vodeći me drugdje -
kućama bez ventilatora na stropovima
gdje kćeri nestaju i zidovi plaču.
 
Ja ću plakati isto za kraljicama ljepote u štiklama,
za strojevima za šivanje i kokošima u kavezima.
Hodat ću upregnuta u jaram
s nogama odbačenim kroz žudnje
i odricanja, kroz hrpe
ponoćnih brodoloma
gdje se porota vrana skuplja
pjevati izlomljenu pjesmu
gubitka koji se ne oprašta.

Prijevod Tomica Bajsić