COMING BACK

I seek the limits of your body, of my language,
I imagine a capital city elsewhere,
I select sheets, sleepy hospitals and women who don’t care for themselves,
shop for everything that makes me sad, words which mean nothing,
forgotten streets, vague addresses, rested and easy of passage.

I give you too much of everything and too little.
He pressed me so hard, that man, I gulped air,
hired myself out to rain, took refuge in the sum of my knowledge,
Too miserable now to manage anything here.
There is no space between hand and knee, nor any trip
from which I might return a healthier woman.
On coming back it is simpler to bathe me,
translate the body from my language,
seat love at the table, milk, meat, water, hunger,
I didn’t write to you, but I wanted to.

Na povratku

Na povratku

Tražim granice tvoga tijela, moga jezika,
na nekom drugom mjestu izmišljam glavni grad,
biram plahte, pospane bolnice i žene koje ne brinu za sebe,
kupujem sve što me rastužuje, riječi koje ništa ne znače,
zaboravne ulice, neprecizne adrese, odmorne i lakoprohodne.

Darujem ti od svega premalo i previše.
Tako me pritisnuo taj čovjek, uhvatila sam zrak,
iznajmila se kiši, pribjegla svemu što znam,
isuviše sam tužna da bih sada tu nešto izvodila.
Između ruku i koljena nema praznine, ni putovanja
s kojeg bih se vratila zdravija.
Na povratku jednostavnije je okupati me,
prevesti tijelo s moga jezika,
posjesti ljubav za stol, mlijeko, meso, vodu, glad,
nisam ti pisala, ali htjela sam.