Dušan Gojkov
Translated from Serbo-Croatian by Danijela Kambasković – Sawers
the vernal
I know that the poplar beneath your window is shooting
young leaves
and that the magnolias and tulips
across the road are in blossom
yet I give your street a wide berth
as, gods knows why,
I remember the beautiful vow we made long ago:
“my body will wait for yours under a rock somewhere”—
by what accident
through which torn pockets did we ever lose
those mornings the grey ones
the warm ones mornings of every kind
those evenings
spent to a glass of wine
quiet music
and glances exchanged
through sunlit eyes those nights
in which I was calm, quiet,
curled up next to you
on the other hand the rumors are true I still manage
to bring a smile to a woman’s face
every now and then
and some of them even venture
to my distant suburb for no other reason
but to bring me chocolate
fruit cake
a bottle of wine
a new book
to have a cup of tea
or a different drink
”life goes on” say the wise
but I suspect that those pictures
which spin around me all night and all day
that hole in my guts that void in my heart
will not be mended by time or modern medicine
I know
we have wasted much deliberately or accidentally much that we could have done for each other instead
I know, I know
under a vernal drizzle
I slide down Lorca street
(it is quite clear that new shoes are long overdue)
I arrive home feed the turtle
sit in the armchair taking strict care not to
look at the corner of the room
where your painting gear used to stand
your easel canvasses paints brushes and things
on the table next to me are a bottle
a glass
coffee untouched since this morning
and a vase
with those weird little yellow flowers
I can never remember the name of which (OK, I’m ashamed)
I stole for myself last night from the little park
across the road
I light my cigarette
gaze at nothing in particular
and let the yellow petals quietly shed on my shoulder