Svetlana Makarovic

 

Good morning

I wish you good morning,
you damp gray daylight.

I wish you good morning,
world covered with blood.

I wish you good morning,
you hill without trees.

I wish you good morning,
you featherless bird

and you, motionless lumps
from hardened slime.

Good morning to you,
my neighbor's eyeless head.

Good morning to you,
castrated men, and to you,
women, beaten down to the ground.

I wish you good morning,
you nameless creature
with your fur burned off
and your fruitless seeds.

The wind is bringing
a smell of carrion,
the wind is singing
the song of my native country.

Good morning you, pest,
and war and starvation –

good morning to you,
you empty cradle.

 

Birth Day

Damned hour when the seed spilled,
damned hour, earth and sky.
Damned wind which into it sailed,
damned rain which damped the earth.
Damned be the axe-blow, long ago
and the bed made out of that tree.
Damned tepid springtime breath,
damned the first man, the first woman.
Damned hand which wove the linen,
damned hand which spread the bed,
damned window, apple-tree branch,
damned flower petals on the coverlet,
damned nails into the back, knife into the flesh,
teeth into the damned breast, lies into the ear,
damned moon and sweat and sticky blood
and the hour when bitter fruit mellowed.
Damned blood of bloods, heart of hearts,
damned first breath and light of the world.


Translated by Alain Duff & the poet

 

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