by Marko Pogacar,
Translated from Croatian
by Andrea Jurjevic
Read by the author
What used to be the borders now are you.
It was May, deep and flat,
the street gutted with roadwork, the snow
sudden, dry.
To be frank:
I didn’t owe anyone anything.
I stood by the doorposts, the water
frozen by fear soaked my back.
And when I closed my eyes I saw
popcorn rush toward its salt and I knew
some nights the kernels blacken, like droppings.
I entered to face the sickening scene:
not love, stupidity, stupidity is the heart of the world—
and now in those slippers I eat and cry,
only eat and cry in the house.
ČOVJEK VEČERA U PAPUČAMA SVOG OCA
Read by the author
Što su bile granice sada si ti.
bio je svibanj dubok i ravan
cesta raskopana zbog radova, snijeg
suh i odjednom.
da kažem otvoreno:
nikome nisam dugovao ništa.
stajao sam u dovratku, voda
smrzla od straha močila mi je leđa.
a kad sam sklopio oči vidio sam
kokice jure ka svojoj soli i znao
ponekad noću pocrne, kao brabonjci.
ušao sam da se suočim s mučnom slikom:
ne ljubav, glupost, glupost je srce svijeta—
i sad u tim papučama unutra jedem i plačem,
samo jedem i plačem u kući.