Empty - Prazno
Dani su mi prekratki. Već tjednima. Strka i zbrka, stalno neke obaveze, dogovori, ljudi koji računaju na tebe i očekuju. Stalno nešto čekaju. I iz dana u dan, kako se budiš, i ideš na autopilotu, obavaljaš sve te stvari, liježeš navečer opet u krevet i za par sati opet tako. Pretpostavljam da tužni ljudi, i ljudi kojima je život predosadan (prejednostavan) mogu misliti o stvarima o kojima ja mislim. Čak ni kada sam zauzet, ne mogu prestati vidjeti prazninu. Prazninu našeg vremena, ili života?
Prazno nebo
Antun Branko Šimić
Nebo je već dugo praznina
bez Boga i serafina,
beskrajna pustinja siva
kroz koju kadšto aeoroplan, grdna tica, pliva,
Ne lete više duše gore kao laste.
Čovjek u zemlju legne i sav se raspe.
K Bogu izgubismo pute.
Pjesnici stoje pred ništavilom, i ćute.
***
My days are too short. For weeks now. All the hassle, all the obligations, appointments, people counting on you and expecting. They're always expecting something. The days go by, as you wake up, on autopilot, do the things you have to do, lay in bed in the evening and in a couple of hours you do your thing again. I suspect that sad people, or people whose lives are too dull (too simple) can think about the things I think about. Even when I'm busy, I can't avert my eyes from the emptiness. The emptiness of our time, or our lives?
Empty Sky
Antun Branko Šimić
For a long time now the sky is empty
devoid of God or seraphs,
an endless desert of gray
rarely an airplane, the ugly bird, through it swims,
No souls fly there like they used to.
Men now lie in the dirt and crumble.
The ways to God are lost.
The poets stare at the abyss, in silence.
Prazno nebo
Antun Branko Šimić
Nebo je već dugo praznina
bez Boga i serafina,
beskrajna pustinja siva
kroz koju kadšto aeoroplan, grdna tica, pliva,
Ne lete više duše gore kao laste.
Čovjek u zemlju legne i sav se raspe.
K Bogu izgubismo pute.
Pjesnici stoje pred ništavilom, i ćute.
***
My days are too short. For weeks now. All the hassle, all the obligations, appointments, people counting on you and expecting. They're always expecting something. The days go by, as you wake up, on autopilot, do the things you have to do, lay in bed in the evening and in a couple of hours you do your thing again. I suspect that sad people, or people whose lives are too dull (too simple) can think about the things I think about. Even when I'm busy, I can't avert my eyes from the emptiness. The emptiness of our time, or our lives?
Empty Sky
Antun Branko Šimić
For a long time now the sky is empty
devoid of God or seraphs,
an endless desert of gray
rarely an airplane, the ugly bird, through it swims,
No souls fly there like they used to.
Men now lie in the dirt and crumble.
The ways to God are lost.
The poets stare at the abyss, in silence.