Danijel Dragojevic - Poetry in Croatian and English - JCS 21

DANIJEL DRAGOJEVIĆ

Born 1934

Born in Vela Luka on the island of Korčula. Lives in Zagreb. His books of poetry are:

KORNJAČA I DRUGI PREDJELI [The Turtle and Other Landscapes) 1961, U TVOM STVARNOM TIJELU [In Your Real Body) 1964, SVJETILJKA I SPAVAC [The Lamp and the Sleeper] 1966, NEVRIJEME I DRUGO [Bad Weather and All That] 1968.

JESEN

AUTUMN

Ne kupi lišće žuto i crveno, i ono koje leti. Ne kupi više. Nastaviš doći ćeš do kraja večeri i do jutra. Umorit ćeš se. Tvoje su ruke male, ova je jesen bez kraja, svuda gdje kreneš nastavlja se. Ne kupi više, sve je ovo tvoje, i ono lišće koje još nije niklo i sad je na nevidljivim granama.

Do not gather the yellow and red leaves and those that are flying. Do not gather them anymore. If you go on you will come to the end of the evening and morning. You will get tired. Your hands are small, this autumn is endless, wherever you go it continues. Do not gather anymore, everything here is yours, even those leaves which have not yet germinated and which for now are still on the invisible branches.

PRAVI LJUBAVNICI	THE TRUE LOVERS
Pravi ljubavnici sada pod zemljom leže. Okrenuti jedno drugome sa svim svojim stranama, drže se za ruke. Od tišine tiši. Mi stojimo ovdje na njihovoj travi. Mi stojimo ovdje na njihovoj travi, na ovom lišću, u ovom proljeću drhću njihove zaustavljene želje. Pjevaju njihovi glasovi. Na zemlji sjene, u visini ruže: što oni neće napraviti da odagnaju zimu, ko je li sve ukrase neće upotrebiti.	The true lovers now lie under the earth. Facing each other with all their sides, they hold hands. Quieter than quietness itself. We stand here on their grass. We stand here on their grass, on these leaves, in this spring their halted wishes quiver. Their voices sing. On the earth shades, in the heights roses: What wouldn't they do to turn away the winter, what contrivance wouldn't they use.
Mi stojimo ovdje, a oni dom svoj pod zemljom grade. Utišaj se, prijateljice moja, od prolaznosti oni prave čipku i misle na nas, naše nesigurne korake. Cvijetom koji ti u kosu stavljam oni nam kažu put. Kada počne dolaziti noć, i mi krenemo kući, oni će nas dugo gledati i mahati nam zelenim rukama.	We stand here and they build their home under the earth. Calm yourself, my lady, they make from the transitoriness a lace, and they think of us, of our unsure steps. By means of the flower which I am putting in your hair, they tell us our way. When the night is about to come, and we go home, they will look at us for a long time and they will wave to us with green hands.