Kako je tesko biti slab,
kako je tesko biti sam,
i biti star, a biti mlad!

I biti slab, i nemocan,         
i sam bez igdje ikoga,            
i nemiran, i ocajan.              

I gaziti po cestama,
i biti gazen u blatu,
bez sjaja zvijezde na nebu.

    Bez sjaja zvijezde udesa
       sto sijase nad kolijevkom
         sa dugama i varkama.

O Boze, Boze, sjeti se
svih obecanja blistavih
sto si ih meni zadao.

O Boze, Boze, sjeti se          
i ljubavi, i pobjede             
i lovora i darova.                 

I znaj da Sin tvoj putuje
dolinom svijeta turobnom
po trnju i po kamenju,

    od nemila do nedraga,
       i noge su mu krvave,
         i srce mu je ranjeno.

I kosti su mu umorne,
   i dusa mu je zalosna,
     i on je sam i zapusten.

      I nema sestre ni brata,
         i nema oca ni majke,
           i nema drage ni druga.

          I nema nigdje nikoga
             do igle draca u srcu
               i plamena na rukama.

              I sam i samcat putuje
                 pod zatvorenom plaveti,
                   pred zamracenom pucinom,

                  i komu da se potuzi?
                     Ta njega nitko ne slusa,
                       ni braca koja lutaju.

                      O Boze, zeze tvoja rijec
                         i tijesno joj je u grlu,
                           i zeljna je da zavapi.

                          Ta besjeda je lomaca
                             i duzan sam je viknuti,
                               ili cu glavnjom planuti.

                              Pa nek sam krijes na brdima,
                                 pa nek sam dah u plamenu,
                                   kad nisam krik sa krovova!

O Boze, tek da dovrsi
pecalno ovo lutanje  
pod svodom koji ne cuje.     

 Jer meni treba mocna rijec,               
jer meni treba odgovor,                 
i ljubav, ili sveta smrt.                    

Gorak je vijenac pelina,                              
mracan je kalez otrova,                                 
ja vapim zarki ilinstak.                                    

Jer mi je mucno biti slab,                                             
jer mi je mucno biti sam                                                 
( kada bih mogao biti jak,                                                    

kada bih mogao biti drag ),                                                             
no mucno je, najmucnije                                                                  
biti vec
star, a tako ml
ad!                                                                     

 

 

How hard it is not to be strong,
How hard it is to be alone,
And to
be old, yet to be young!

And to be weak, and powerless,
Alon
e, with no one anywhere,
Dissatisfied, and desperate.

And trudge bleak highways endlessly,
And to be trampled in the mud,
With n
o star shining in the sky.

Without your star of destiny
To play its twinklings on your crib
With rainbows and false prophecies.

Oh God, oh God, remember all
The glittering fair promises
With w
hich you have afflicted me.

Oh God, oh God, remember all
The great loves, the great victories,
The wreaths of laurel and the gifts.

And know you have a son who walks
The weary valleys of the world
Among sharp thorns, and rocks and stones,

Through unkindness and unconcern,
With his feet bloodied under him,
And wi
th his heart an open wound.

His bones are full of weariness,
His soul is ill at ease and sad,
And he's neglected and alone,

And sisterless, and brotherless,
and f
atherless, and motherless,
With no one dear, and no close friend,

And he has no-one anywhere
Except thorn twigs to pierce his heart
And fire blazing from his palms.

Lonely and utterly alone
Under the hemmed in vault of blue,
On dark h
orizons of high seas.

Whom can he tell his troubles to
When no-one's there to hear his call,
not ev
en brother wanderers.

Oh God, you sear your burning word
Too hugely through this narrow throat
And throttle it inside my cry.

And utterance is a burning stake,
Though I must yell it out, I must,
Or, like a kindled log, burn out.

Just let me be a bonfire on
A hill, just one breath in the fire,
If not a scream hurled from the roofs.

Oh God, let it be over with,
This miserable wandering
Under a vault as deaf as stone.

Because I crave a powerful word,
Because I crave an answering voice,
Someone to love, or holy death.

For bitter is the wormwood wreath
And deadly dark the poison cup,
So burn me, blazing summer noon.

For I am sick of being weak,
And sick of being all alone
(seeing I could be hale and strong)

And seeing that I could be loved),
But I am sick, sickest of all
To be s
o old, yet still be young!

 

 

Svakidasnja jadikovka   —    Daily lament

Tin Ujevic

(1891 - 1955)

 

©   2005 photo by   Carmen Ezgeta:  Petra - Jordan;  ozujak - March 2005

 

Petra is the treasure of ancient world, hidden behind an almost impenetrable barrier of rugged mountains, boasting incomparable scenes that make it the
most majestic and imposing ancient site still-standing nowadays. It has been said "perhaps there is nothing in the world that resembles it",
actually, for sure, there is nothing in the world that resembles it. The rock-carved rose-red city of Petra is full of mysterious charm, it was
"designed to strike wonder into all who entered it". Petra is considered the most famous and gorgeous site in Jordan located about 262 km south of Amman and
133 km north of Aqaba. It is the legacy of the Nabataeans, an industrious Arab people who settled in southern Jordan more than 2000 years ago.
Admired then for its refined culture, massive architecture and ingenious complex of dams and water channels, Petra is now a UNESCO world heritage site
that enchants visitors from all corners of the globe.

The approach through a kilometer long, cool, and gloom chasm (or Siq) a long narrow gorge whose steeply rising sides all but obliterate the sun,
provides a dramatic contrast with the magic to come. Suddenly the gorge opens into a natural square dominated by Petra's most famous monument
The Treasury (El-Khazneh), whose intricately carved facade glows in the dazzling sun.
More facades beckon the visitor on until the ancient city gradually unfolds, one monument leading to the next for kilometer after kilometer.
The sheer size of the city and the quality of beautifully carved facades is staggering and leads one to reflect on the creativity and industry of the Nabataeans who made Petra their capital.

Petra is always breathtaking, and never to be forgotten. It flourished for over 400 years around the time of Rome and Christ (pbuh),
until it was occupied by the Roman legions of the Emperor Trajan in 106 AD.

The Petra basin boasts over 800 individual monuments, including buildings, tombs, baths, funerary halls, temples, arched gateways, and colonnaded streets,
that were mostly carved from the kaleidoscopic sandstone by the technical and artistic genius of its inhabitants.

Petra sights are at their best in early morning and late afternoon, when the sun warms the multicolored stones, you can view the majesty of Petra as it
was seen first when discovered in 1812 after being lost by the 16th century for almost 300 years!

 

trans. (from Croatian)  Richard Burns  & Dasa Maric

 

[ Tin Ujevic ]

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