Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Borben Vladović

Old Road to the Sea

We have started from the shadow place
towards the sawed smell of fresh boards
on the old road to the sea.
From the lower cloud of dust
holding our glowing heads high
we were watching the upper new highway
and on its black skin the unstoppable
little houses of anxiety were gliding
that were too distant
for the freshness of the tender sea waves.
The journey continued with a frequent
clicking of the ballpoint pen
and the lonely zealous cricket
on the old road to the sea
we were waiting for a view at the end of our journey.
The view began with shabby cabins
on the unkempt city beach
and on the seafront boards were stacked for some future
boats drawn and written
in my notebook jumping
on my restless knee
that detects every pebble and slant
on the old road to the sea

Stara cesta prema moru

Stara cesta prema moru

Kretalo se iz mjesta sjene
prema raspilanom mirisu svježih dasaka
starom cestom prema moru
Iz donjeg oblaka prašine
uzdignutih zažarenih glava
gledali smo gornju novu magistralu
na čijoj crnoj glazuri klize
nezaustavljive kućice tjeskobe
do kojih ne dopire
svježina blagih valova
Nastavak putovanja s učestalim
zvukom opruge kemijske olovke
i samotnoga revnog cvrčka
starom cestom prema moru
očekujemo panoramu cilja našeg izleta
Vidik počinje na oronule kabine
zapuštenog gradskog kupališta
a na rivi naslagane daske budućih
čamaca nacrtanih i zapisanih
u mojoj bilježnici koja
poskakuje na nemirnom koljenu
osjetljivom na svaki kamičak i neravninu
stare ceste prema moru
Close

Old Road to the Sea

We have started from the shadow place
towards the sawed smell of fresh boards
on the old road to the sea.
From the lower cloud of dust
holding our glowing heads high
we were watching the upper new highway
and on its black skin the unstoppable
little houses of anxiety were gliding
that were too distant
for the freshness of the tender sea waves.
The journey continued with a frequent
clicking of the ballpoint pen
and the lonely zealous cricket
on the old road to the sea
we were waiting for a view at the end of our journey.
The view began with shabby cabins
on the unkempt city beach
and on the seafront boards were stacked for some future
boats drawn and written
in my notebook jumping
on my restless knee
that detects every pebble and slant
on the old road to the sea

Old Road to the Sea

We have started from the shadow place
towards the sawed smell of fresh boards
on the old road to the sea.
From the lower cloud of dust
holding our glowing heads high
we were watching the upper new highway
and on its black skin the unstoppable
little houses of anxiety were gliding
that were too distant
for the freshness of the tender sea waves.
The journey continued with a frequent
clicking of the ballpoint pen
and the lonely zealous cricket
on the old road to the sea
we were waiting for a view at the end of our journey.
The view began with shabby cabins
on the unkempt city beach
and on the seafront boards were stacked for some future
boats drawn and written
in my notebook jumping
on my restless knee
that detects every pebble and slant
on the old road to the sea
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère