The wind is cold it burns and causes those that wait for the quiet crossing of the tram to shiver The elderly lean their heads against the glass The boredom of life furrows their faces They fog up the window with their lost gaze their distant indifference It’s Sarajevo the sun lodges itself in holes left by mortar fire the ruins the facades There’s a transparency that wounds the flight the course of birds Faraway the hills and lying in wait they prey upon Sniper Alley Nothing surprises me now or causes me to give up not even should you say you’re leaving that all you know how to do is leave The waters of Miljacka run suddenly old they darken as they pass under the Princip bridge With one perfect shot they killed an Archduke here We have died in excess many lives together On the threshold of an orthodox church someone watches how the light of the candles is used up Extinct now the torches are taken away The candlestick is empty Welcome to hell reads graffiti from another time Of hell all that’s left is this slow calm that lingers even after it dwells in us Cats root about in trash bags Grass grows on the gravestones of garden cemeteries
The tram has passed a racket a trembling of the air behind the tracks maybe a memory nothing
Translation: Jeremy Paden
გამოხატეთ თქვენი აზრი მოცემული ლექსის შესახებ კომენტარის სახით!..
