Počakaj malo. Nismo še opravili s tabo.
Razpravljali smo o Neutrudljivih
v času Maksimalne Naluknjanosti in Čudežev,
negibna trupla vran so navpično padala na zemljo,
bobneče na tvojo verando in nate,
nosil si svojo Čelado Tišine kot da
bi bila krona, kot da bi bila nekakšna molitev.
Na kolenih ne moreš posvečati pozornosti temu svetu.
In želja ni pločevinka, ki jo vzameš v gozd
in streljaš vanjo; želja je pločevinka, ustreljena proti peklu
in pogoltnjena košček za koščkom, medtem ko se vrana
noro krohota in poskakuje z veje na vejo.
Pregledali so te, če je v tebi kaj eksploziva.
Razširil si noge. Izpraznil si svoje dni
v belo plastično posodo. Odstranil si pas.
Odstranil si čevlje. Odstranil si srce,
prgišče šrapnelov. Naprošen si bil, da stopiš vstran,
naprošen si bil, da stopiš ven na asfalt pred pisto,
na letalo – deportiran si bil,
čeprav na vidiku ni bilo nobene ladje,
in drugi, ki so bili s tabo, so se začeli
držati za roke in jecljajoče peti pesem, whoso
list to hunt, in the bee-loud glade,
pregnani od vrtečih lopatic reaktivnega motorja,
letalo je zdrselo mimo vrste lučk,
zavilo na desno in se premikalo naprej, zavilo na desno
in se premikalo naprej, še enkrat zavilo na desno
in se premikalo naprej in mi nikoli nismo zapustili zemlje.
Starali smo se. Si ustvarili družine.
Sebe imenovali narod. Imamo veliko otrok.
To je naša zastava. Prilegala se bo tvojemu žepu.
Hvala za kavo. Lahko zdaj gremo?
iz angleščine prevedel Gregor Podlogar
Wait a minute. We’re not finished with you.
We were discussing the Indefatigable Ones
at a time of Maximum Perforation and Wonders,
the bodies of crows plummeting earthward,
stiffly, thudding onto your porch and you,
you were wearing your Silence Helmet as if it
were a crown, as if it were a kind of prayer.
You can’t pay attention to this world on your knees.
And desire isn’t a tin can taken into the woods
and shot at; it’s a tin can shot to hell
and swallowed, piece by piece, while a crow
laughs, bouncing through the limbs.
You were checked for explosive residue.
You spread your legs. You emptied your days
into a white plastic bucket. You removed your belt.
You removed your shoes. You removed your heart,
a fistful of shrapnel. You were asked to step aside,
you were asked to step outside, onto the tarmac,
onto a plane—you were being deported,
although no ships were within sight.
And the others that were with you began
to hold hands, began to stammer a song, whoso
list to hunt, in the bee-loud glade,
drowned out by turbines, shifting metal flaps,
along a grid of lights the plane taxied,
it made a right and kept moving, it made a right
and kept moving, it made another right
and kept moving—you never left the ground.
You were growing old. You started families.
You had many children. You call yourselves a nation.
This is your flag. It will fit in your pocket.
Thank you for the coffee. Can we go now?