NO 38
PAGE 290
PAGE 290
Ante Tičić, Zadar, Croatia
SAM U POLJU
Gradska knjižnica Zadar, 2012
ISBN 978-953-7204-43-3
Gle, koliko je
Look, such abundant
na oranici trave
grasses in the field
iz ničeg iznikle.
sprouting from nothing.
Okrugli sjaj –
A round shine–
dobrano se nazire
the Sun looms
sunce u magli.
through the fog.
Gavran u letu –
A raven in flight–
koliko li stoljeća
how many centuries
krilima nosi.
does it carry on its wings?
Ljetna žega.
Summer heat.
Na raspukloj zemlji
Over creacked earth
osušen korov.
dried weed.
Susret sa Suncem:
Meeting the Sun:
iznikao stolisnik
a
yarrow grows
na asfaltu.
from the asphalt.
Proljetno bujanje:
Spring overgrowth:
dinja sebi peteljkom
a melon entangled its leaf
zaplela list.
by its own pedicle.
Iznenadni pljusak.
Sudden rainfall.
Utovarivači djeteline
Loaders of the clover
pod prikolicom.
under the sidecar.
NO 38
PAGE 291
PAGE 291
Clare McCotter, Kilrea, Co. Derry. North Ireland
BLACK HORSE RUNNING
Alba Publishing, 2012
ISBN 978-0955125461
chestnut mare
you carried me to this land where cities are coloured viridian and all our roads are water
- cool opulent ovals under
apah animate lustral lapping baptising perfectly
russet hocks your fore-
head’s crooked star sinking over my unfolded palm a salfay of serafina and siberian blue smooth on
your sovereign tongue
summer dusk
a horse’s soft mouth
feeding hands
capall bán carbon-heart and forest-veins a deep-draped hawthorn mane we were at the fort when
hammond gave you to me finest cob ever to cut hooves on connemara rock you stood sixteen hands in
a night whose amethyst soul we crossed the reins luminous with insight even when you bolted on that
northern headland - lead iron splitting the ground simpatico until you rose above a field of green stars
a laughing hallelujah my outstretched arms
the still earth
mingling with mine
a horse’s
breath
capaillín ársa was there a dream before words pendent on lemon branch like doleful white-faced
mares in the ortolan’s golden orchard? before lips gleamed with a brattle of broken bit with a silver
insouciant
fuck it? claretcoloured night - fingers opaline in an avalanche of mane our only rudder rad-
dled with moonshine
rain on summer sand
a child writes
the dead pony’s name
NO 38
PAGE 292
PAGE 292
driftwood horse
through dune grass and distance a mandolin moon lights the breast of a wild swan turning as space
closes in to wave washed bark launched from some well drained rooted place by axe or gale onto
sea’s high altar where nude heartwood was not sick for lack of land or for brine once beached or now
for wind scudded sand as its soul shape shifts under a zinc roof plumed
with rust and smoke one star
still in the sky as his hands guide a mare from storm torn star bleached oak
piebald pony
tethered beside old rail tracks
silver sickle
*
black horse running rolling away the stone
clouds in a mare’s eye the fracture beyond repair
night frayed behind the purple pines a horse’s call
the horses are gone
tonight in the far fields
a single silver moth
starlight
though none are here
the scent
of horses
narrow lapis lake
deeper than sky
pupil of a horse’s eye
geranium sunset
through trailing mane
an old caravan
it is not the storm
in this black november night
that spooks the horses
the mare’s eye
still water
stillborn prayer
white mare looming
in
weed trees
old moon’s shadow
NO 38
PAGE 293
PAGE 293
Smajil Durmišević, Zenica, Bosnia and Herzegovina
ŽEPSKI GOROCVIJETI / MOUNTAIN FLOWERS OF ŽEPA
Zbrika poezije i haikua; Nakladnik/Publisher: „Meligrafprint“ d.o.o., Zenica
Translated by Đ.V.Rožić, ISBN 978-9958-677-09-0
Džamija nova
A mosque all new
A ljudi nema. Ipak,
but no people. And yet,
Bije šest lula.
water gushes from the six spouts
Ljepota boli
Painful
is this beauty
Nišani žive sami
The tombstones live alone
Divljina buja
The Wild things flourish
Joha u kući
Young trees growing through the house
I stado tuđe u vrtu
And somebody else’s sheep in the garden
Kako si, komšo!
Hey, how are you doin’, my neighbour!
I pade Čovjek
So, a Man fell down
Seljak na njivi. Greškom
A farmer on his field. By mistake
Tek čovjek manje
and thus–one man less
Sa strane šuma
On two sides–forests
U srcu polja, dokle
In
the middle and in the heart, fields
ti pogled seže
as far as you can see
Lijepa kuća
A beautiful house. The woods
Miriše drvo. I selo
smell nicely. And the village–
Svi živi. Ma san.
all are alive. Only a dream
U Bosni selo
A village in Bosnia,
U selu sela nema…
In it there is no village...
Sjeta i čežnja!
Melancholy and yearning!