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Let the Sirens Wipe the Tracks Clean

Let the Sirens Wipe the Tracks Clean

Zvonko Karanović

NEK SIRENE IZBRIŠU TRAGOVE

I love little clouds
the chubby children of heaven and earth
I remember them each time I put on
my sunglasses
because the heat
brings back memories of the warrior
in a dusty leather suit
the search for energy and gas
is just an attempt to replace oblivion
with a pointless drive
yes, I knew many born at gas stations
who lit cigarettes against the tired rolled-up hose
and got nothing but flashes of unsold visions
time works for the crazed
yuppies and ex-flower children
they need to take a shower in
cement blocks
very gently
the sun can’t stand stale irises
black sun in a purple robe
on the threshold of a new home
this is the beginning

Volim malene oblake
debeljuškastu decu zemlje i neba
setim ih se svaki put kad stavljam
naočare za sunce
jer jara
pali uspomene na ratnika
u kožnom prašnjavom odelu
potraga za energijom i benzinom
samo je pokušaj da se zaborav
zameni besciljnom
vožnjom
da, poznavao sam mnoge
koji su se rodili na benzinskim pumpama
palili cigarete na umorno smotano crevo
i nisu dobili ništa osim bleskova
neprodatih vizija
vreme radi za izbezumljene
goniče bosih tabana
i decu cveća
treba ih poslati na tuširanje
betonskim pločama
veoma nežno
sunce ne trpi ustajale zenice
crno sunce u grimiznoj odori
na pragu novog doma
ovo je početak

Ana Božičević


NOTE: This poem first appeared in Serbian in the book Mama Melanholija (Mama Melancholia).

Translation