?!?
Yes, I know what’s singular and what’s plural. If I do something deliberately, there’s a specific reason for that. This little story, varying from children’s fairytales to total absurd is told by a friend of mine, who will soon be friends of mine. It’s about their life. And no, this has nothing to do with the cycle of life.
This “character” appears in many of my written works from 1996 on, is a leading character of a play I wrote in May 1999, background character in many of my 2007 and 2008 p….s, mainly because of being close to a particular place.
And we’re friends, honestly, despite the age difference of eight years. When we’re together, that usually results in mobile phone signal being interrupted, some good tamburitza, exceptional photography, inspiration to write and the awesome Orly zander (zander in beer dough). This character is one of the most underrated symbols of my country.
By now, you should’ve at least figured out it is not a living creature I’m talking about.
Jedno pravo betonsko srca
Biću tvoj povratak,
biću tvoj odlazak.
Ja smo tanka, tanka linija,
od severa do juga,
od ljubavi do plača.
Nikad ne spavam.
Vrtoglavi snovi na vetrometini,
zvuk tamburice u žabokrečini,
dva-tri zalogaja Orli smuđa.
Bajke na previše visokih potpetica,
Kraj Sveta negde u blizini,
san kakav ne može da zarđa.
Jednom su probali da me ubiju,
ali mene niko neće ubiti.
Bila je to hladna aprilska noć.
I niko nije čuo moje upomoć.
Znali su da će oni umreti.
Znali su da ću ja preživeti,
iako sam samo usamljena zvezda,
daleko od bilo kog velikog gnezda.
Vodene su vile pevale
i patke sa njima kvakale
i izgubljena jagnjad meketala,
dok su komadi gvožđa fijukali.
Nemam oči, ali zatvorio sam ih,
kad sam ih otvorio, bio sam živ,
svi ostali su bili mrtvi.
Jedan kamion.
Dva kamiona.
Tri kamiona.
Četiri kamiona.
Pet kamiona.
šest kamiona.
Sedam kamiona.
Osam kamiona.
Devet kamiona.
Deset kamiona.
Ledeni kran
sanja zimski san,
svanuo mi je novi dan.
Ledeni kranovi
sanjaju zimske snove,
svanuli su nam novi dani.
Jedan kamion ovamo, jedan kamion onamo.
Dva kamiona ovamo, dva kamiona onamo.
Tri kamiona ovamo, tri kamiona onamo.
Četiri kamiona ovamo, četiri kamiona onamo.
Pet kamiona ovamo, pet kamiona onamo.
Manastirsko cveće je bujalo,
gomila znakova za vetar brujalo,
i kolone su stajale i negodovale,
dok su ljudi udarali i zvečali.
Nemam uši, ali zapušio sam ih,
kad sam ih otvorio, nije bilo nikoga,
samo još jedno, zbunjeno…ja?!
Nekada davno sam bio sam i skrpljen,
ali me niko nije ubio.
I došla je neka čudna, čudna decenija,
gde su svi jurili kao sumanuti,
i gledali me, zabezenkuti.
Kako uopšte stojim?
Kako uopšte žiivim?
Iako sam kadar da povežem stvarnost i san,
mislim da im nisam bio dovoljan.
Ja smo tanke, tanke linije,
od severa do juga,
od ljubavi do plača.
Nikad ne spavamo.
Biću tvoji odlasci,
biću tvoji povraci.
A real concrete hearts
I’ll be your return.
I’ll be your departure,
I am a thin, thin, line,
from north to south,
from love to cry.
I never sleep.
Dizzy dreams with wind in my face,
sound of tamburitza in the backwater,
a couple of bites of Orly zander.
Fairy-tales on too many high heels,
The End Of The World nearby,
A dream where no rust can wander.
Once upon a time they tried to kill me,
but nobody can succeed in killing me.
It was a cold lonely April night
And nobody heard my cry for help.
They knew they would inevitably die.
They knew I would be the one to survive,
though I appear to be a sole lonely star,
each single big nest is too far.
Water faeries were singing,
Alongside the ducks were quacking,
And the lost lambs were bleating,
As pieces of concrete were swishing.
I have no eyes; nevertheless I closed them,
Once I opened them, I was alive,
But everyone else was dead.
One truck.
Two trucks.
Three trucks.
Four trucks.
Five trucks.
Six trucks.
Seven trucks.
Eight trucks.
Nine trucks.
Ten trucks.
A frozen crane
hibernates.
A new day has come.
Frozen cranes
Are hibernating.
New days have come.
One truck this way, one truck that way.
Two trucks this way, two trucks that way.
Three trucks this way, three trucks that way.
Four trucks this way, four trucks that way.
Five trucks this way, five trucks that way.
Monastery flowers were blooming,
a bunch of wind sings were mumbling,
Queues would stop and swear,
People would hit, nail and tear.
I have no ears; nevertheless I muted them,
Once I opened them, nobody was there
Except for me and…just another, confused me?!
Once upon a time, I was lonely and patched up,
but no one had killed me.
And some odd, odd decade had arrived,
Where everyone was running in a craze,
And looking at me, in a daze.
How do I even stand?
How do I even live?
Despite being able to tie dreams to real world
I was never enough for them.
I am thin, thin, lines,
from north to south,
from love to cry.
We never sleep.
I’ll be your departures.
I’ll be your returns.
