Gedicht
Brane Mozetič
It’s midnight almost and I silently stare
it’s midnight almost and I silently stareinto the blackness before me, no image of the
day left, no dream left of the night, pretty
or melancholy, as if time came to a standstill
in vain I strive to reawaken the image of your face
in vain all recollections, as if they’d broken loose
the twitching of hands reverberating through the dark
and the sighs, the beloved words
I want, at least, to recall the feeling
the last trace of beauty after love is over
the smell, the taste; abysmal emptiness
wafts up to me as I stand on the vast
white sand of the shore and the fog falls
and I do not see, do not feel anything anymore.
© Translation: 2002, Mia Dintinjana and Phillis Levin
From: Poems for Dead Dreams
From: Poems for Dead Dreams
It’s midnight almost and I silently stare
polnoč bo in nemo gledam predse
v mrak, od dneva ni ostala niti
slika, od noči ne sanja, lepa
ali tožna, kot da čas stoji
zaman poskušam tvoj obraz buditi
zaman spomine, kot da so ušli
hitijo skozi temo krči rok
in vzdihi, ljubljene besede
skušam obuditi vsaj občutje
sled lepote, ko ljubezen mine
tisti vonj, okus; praznina veje
grozna, ko stojim na širnem belem
pesku ob obali in spusti se megla
in ne vidim, čutim več ničesar.
v mrak, od dneva ni ostala niti
slika, od noči ne sanja, lepa
ali tožna, kot da čas stoji
zaman poskušam tvoj obraz buditi
zaman spomine, kot da so ušli
hitijo skozi temo krči rok
in vzdihi, ljubljene besede
skušam obuditi vsaj občutje
sled lepote, ko ljubezen mine
tisti vonj, okus; praznina veje
grozna, ko stojim na širnem belem
pesku ob obali in spusti se megla
in ne vidim, čutim več ničesar.
© 1995, Brane Mozetič
From: Pesmi za umrlimi sanjami
From: Pesmi za umrlimi sanjami
Gedichten
Gedichten van Brane Mozetič
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It’s midnight almost and I silently stare
polnoč bo in nemo gledam predsev mrak, od dneva ni ostala niti
slika, od noči ne sanja, lepa
ali tožna, kot da čas stoji
zaman poskušam tvoj obraz buditi
zaman spomine, kot da so ušli
hitijo skozi temo krči rok
in vzdihi, ljubljene besede
skušam obuditi vsaj občutje
sled lepote, ko ljubezen mine
tisti vonj, okus; praznina veje
grozna, ko stojim na širnem belem
pesku ob obali in spusti se megla
in ne vidim, čutim več ničesar.
From: Pesmi za umrlimi sanjami
It’s midnight almost and I silently stare
it’s midnight almost and I silently stareinto the blackness before me, no image of the
day left, no dream left of the night, pretty
or melancholy, as if time came to a standstill
in vain I strive to reawaken the image of your face
in vain all recollections, as if they’d broken loose
the twitching of hands reverberating through the dark
and the sighs, the beloved words
I want, at least, to recall the feeling
the last trace of beauty after love is over
the smell, the taste; abysmal emptiness
wafts up to me as I stand on the vast
white sand of the shore and the fog falls
and I do not see, do not feel anything anymore.
© 2002, Mia Dintinjana and Phillis Levin
From: Poems for Dead Dreams
From: Poems for Dead Dreams
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