Besmrtna pesma - Mika Antić (ne znam koliko je dobar prevod, ali - TopicsExpress



          

Besmrtna pesma - Mika Antić (ne znam koliko je dobar prevod, ali nek dopre do što više ljudi) I Ako ti jave: umro sam a bio sam ti drag, mozda će i u tebi odjednom nešto posiveti. Na trepavicama magla. Na usni pepeljast trag. Da li si ikad razmišljao o tome šta znači živeti? Ko sneg u toplom dlanu u tebi detinjstvo kopni. Brige… Zar ima briga? Tuge… Zar ima tuga? Po merdevinama mašte u mladost hrabro se popni. Tamo te čeka ona lepa, al lukava duga. I živi! Sasvim živi! Ne grickaj kao miš dane. Široko žvaći vazduh. Prestiži vetar i ptice. Jer svaka večnost je kratka. Odjednom nasmejani u ogledalu nekom dobiju zborano lice. Odjednom: na ponekom uglu vreba poneka suza. Nevolje na prstima stignu. Godine postanu sivlje. Odjednom svet, dok hodaš sve više ti je uzan i osmeh sve tiši i tiši i nekako iskrivljen. Zato živi, al sasvim! I ja sam živeo tako. Za pola veka samo stoleća sam obišao. Priznajem: pomalo luckast. Ponekad naopak. Al nikad nisam stajao. Večno sam išao. Išao… Ispredi iz svoje aorte pozlaćen konac trajanja i zašij naprsla mesta iz kojih drhte čuđenja. I nikad ne zamišljaj život kao uplašen oproštaj, već kao stalni doček i stalni početak buđenja. II A onda, već jednom ozbiljno razmisli šta znači i umreti i gde to nestaje čovek. Šta ga to zauvek ište. Nemoj ići na groblja. Ništa nećeš razumeti. Groblja su najcrnji vašar i tužno pozorište. Igrajući se nemira i svojih bezobličja, zar nemaš ponekad potrebu da malo krišom zađeš u nove slojeve razuma? U susedne budućnosti? Objasniću ti to nekada ako me tamo nađeš. Znaš šta ću ti učiniti: pokvariću ti igračku koja se zove bol, ako se budeš odvažio. Ne lažem te. Ja izmišljam ono što mora postojati, samo ga nisi jos otkrio, jer ga nisi ni tražio. Upamti: stvarnost je stvarnija ako joj dodaš nestvarnog. Prepoznaćeš me po ćutanju. Večni ne razgovaraju. Da bi nadmudrio mudrost, odneguj veštinu slušanja. Veliki odgovori sami sebe otvaraju. Posle bezbroj rođenja i nekih sitničavih smrti, kad jednom budeš shvatio da sve to što si disao ne znači jedan život, stvarno naiđi do mene da te dotaknem svetlošću i pretvorim u misao. I najdalja budućnost ima svoju budućnost, koja u sebi čuje svoje budućnosti glas. I nema praznih svetova. To, čega nismo svesni, nije nepostojanje, već postojanje bez nas. III Ako ti jave: umro sam, evo šta će to biti. Hiljade šarenih riba lepršaće mi kroz oko. I zemlja će me skriti. I korov će me skriti. A ja ću za to vreme leteti negde visoko. Upamti: nema granica, već samo trenutnih granica. Jedriću nad tobom u svitanja niz vetar klizav ko svila. Razgrtaću ti obzorja, obrise doba u povoju i prizore budućnosti lepotom nevidljivih krila. I kao nečujno klatno zaljuljano u beskraju, visiću sam o sebi kao o zlatnom remenu. Prostor je brzina uma što sama sebe odmotava. Lebdeću u mestu, a stizaću i nestajaću u vremenu. Odmoriću se od sporednog kao galaktička jata, koja su srasla pulsiranjem što im u nedrima traje. Odmoriću se od sporednog kao ogromne šume, koje su srasle granama u guste zagrljaje. Odmoriću se od sporednog kao ogromne ptice, koje su srasle krilima i celo nebo oplele. Odmoriću se od sporednog kao ogromne ljubavi, koje su srasle usnama još dok se nisu ni srele. Zar misliš da moja ruka, koleno, ili glava, mogu da postanu glina, koren breze i trava? Da neka malecka tajna, il neki treperav strah mogu da postanu sutra tišina, tama i prah? Znaš, ja sam stvarno sa zvezda. Sav sam od svetlosti stvoren. Nista se u meni neće ugasiti ni skratiti. Samo ću, obično tako, jedne slučajne zore svom nekom dalekom suncu zlatnih se očiju vratiti. Kažnjavan za sve što pomislim, a kamoli što počinim, osumnjičen sam za nežnost i proglašen sam krivim što ljubav ne gasim mržnjama, već novom, većom ljubavlju i život ne gasim smrtima, već nečim drukčije živim. Poslednji rubovi beskraja tek su početak beskrajnijeg. Ko traje dalje od trajnijeg ne zna za kratka znanja. Nikad se nemoj mučiti pitanjem: kako preživeti, nego: kako ne umreti posle svih umiranja. IV Ako ti jave: umro sam, ne brini. U svakom stoleću neko me slučajno pobrka sa umornima i starima. Nigde toliko ljudi kao u jednom čoveku. Nigde toliko drukčijeg kao u istim stvarima. Pročeprkaš li prostore, iskopaćeš me iz vetra. Ima me u vodi. U kamenju. U svakom sutonu i zori. Biti ljudski višestruk, ne znači biti raščovečen. Ja jesam deljiv sa svačim, ali ne i razoriv. A sva ta čudesna stanja i obnavljanja mene i nisu drugo do vrtlog jednolik, uporan, dug. Znaš šta su proročanstava? Kalupi ranijih zbivanja i zadihanost istog što vija sebe ukrug. Pa što bismo se opraštali? Čega da nam je žao? Ako ti jave: umro sam, ti znaš – ja to ne umem. Ljubav je jedini vazduh koji sam udisao. I osmeh jedini jezik koji na svetu razumem. Na ovu zemlju sam svratio da ti namignem malo. Da za mnom ostane nešto kao lepršav trag. Nemoj da budeš tužan. Toliko mi je stalo da ostanem u tebi budalast, čudno drag. Noću kad gledaš u nebo, i ti namigni meni. To neka bude tajna. Uprkos danima sivim, kad vidiš neku kometu da vidik zarumeni, upamti: to ja još uvek šašav letim i živim. I If you hear: I died and I was dear to your heart Maybe something inside you will also suddenly turn gray… Have you ever at all thought about the true meaning of life? Like snow on your palm, childhood melting away in you. Worries…. Are there any worries? Sorrows… Are there any sorrows? On the ladder of imagination boldly climb up to your youth. That beautiful but enticing rainbow is waiting for you over there. And live your life. Live it to the very last drop. Don’t nibble days like a mouse. Chew the air with all your teeth. Run faster than the winds and the birds. Overtake them all. Because, every eternity is short. Smiling faces, in some mirrors, all of a sudden become wrinkled. Unexpected: at some corner, a tear ambushes you. Troubles come tiptoeing. Years turn grayer. All of a sudden, the world, while you’re walking becomes more and more narrow And your laughter quieter and quieter and somehow distorted Therefore, live, but fully! … II Really, have you sometimes thought about what does it mean to die? And where in fact does a man disappear? What is it that takes him away forever? Don’t go to cemeteries. You won’t understand a thing. Cemeteries are the darkest fair and an ugly theatre. You are not meant for such theatres, with no hope and fire, the theatres of dried up tears, where graveyard rules reign, where there are no quarrels and songs, and no applause. And the end is known in advance. When playing riots and your formlessness, don’t you ever wish to secretly reach new dimensions of sense in neighboring futures? I’ll explain it to you one day. If you find me there. You know what I’ll do: I’ll brake your toy, the one called pain, if you get up the courage. I’m not lying to you – I invent things that have to exist, but you haven’t discovered them yet, because you haven’t even looked for them. Remember: reality is more real if you add unreal to it. You will know me by silence. The eternals don’t talk. To outwit the wisdom, learn how to listen. Great answers show themselves to you After countless births and some petty deaths, when you realize one day that all that breathing doesn’t make a life, Really, come to me, to touch you with light and turn you into thought. Even the farthest future has its future that carries inside the voice of its future And there are no empty worlds. The thing that we are not aware of is not nonexistence but existence without us. III If you hear: I died here’s what it will really mean: Thousands of colorful fish will be fluttering through my eye. And the ground will hide me. And the weed will hide me. And, in the meanwhile, I’ll be flying high… High Remember: there are no limits, but only temporary limits. I’ll be sailing above you at downs. Downwind, slippery like silk. I’ll be showing you horizons, outlines of rising era and future sights with beauty of invisible wings. … I’ll be resting from unimportant, like galactic flocks, that have grown together by pulsation ongoing in their souls. I’ll be resting from unimportant, like deep forests, that have grown together by branches into dense embraces. I’ll be resting from unimportant like big birds, that have grown together by wings and weaved a net in the entire sky. I’ll be resting from unimportant like great loves, that had grown together by lips, even before they met. Do you really think that my hand, knee, or head, could, tomorrow, turn into clay, willow’s root and grass? Do you really think that a small secret, or a silly fear, could, tomorrow, turn into silence, darkness, and dust? You know I come from somewhere from the stars. I’m all made out of light. Nothing in me will extinguish or shorten I will only, as simple as that, at one random dawn, return to my distant Sun, with gold in my eyes. Because, I was meant for theatres with plenty of heart and zeal, theatres of laughter and tears, where there is no order, where there is quarreling, and singing, and screaming, and applauses. And the end is not known in advance. Being punished for my every thought, let alone my every deed, I’m suspected of tenderness And found guilty for not extinguishing love with hatred but with new, bigger love and I don’t extinguish life with death, but with something differently alive. The last borders of infinity are just the beginning of more endless. He who lasts longer than more lasting knows not for short term knowledge. Never torture yourself with the question: how to survive, But: how not to die after the final death. IV If you hear: I died Don’t worry. In every century somebody mistakes me for the tired and old. There’s nowhere as many people as in one man. There is nowhere as many differences as in the same things. If you scratch through the spaces, you’ll dig me out of the wind. I’m in the water, in the stones, in every dusk and dawn. Being humanly versatile doesn’t mean being dehumanized I am dividable by all sorts of things, but not destructible as well. And all those miraculous states and renewal of myself are nothing but a maelstrom dull, persistent, long. Do you know what are prophecies? Molds of past occurrences and their breathlessness that chases itself around. So why say goodbye? What are we sorry for? I have lived a magnificent life because I really knew how to do it If you hear: I died, - don’t believe it. Because it’s something I don’t know how to do. Love is the only air I’ve ever breathed and laughter the only language in the world that I understand I have just dropped by on this earth, to give you a wink. To leave something behind like a fluttering trace. Therefore, don’t be sad. The only thing I care for is to remain silly in your eyes and strangely dear to your heart. At night, when you look up to the sky, you give me a wink too let it be a secret. In spite of gray days, when you see a comet turning the horizon red, remember: its me still silly flying and living.
Posted on: Sat, 13 Jul 2013 09:09:15 +0000

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