XIV — Igraš se svakog dana... - Juegas todos los días... - Every Day You Play...

© 2006 photo by Carmen Ezgeta: Koza - The Goath / Fažana; Istra - Istria; Hrvatska - Croatia / Igras se svakog dana...- Staro hrvatsko pismo glagoljica - The Croatian Glagolitic alphabet ( has a long and interesting history of more than a thousand years.)

Igras se svako jutro... —

Staro hrvatsko pismo glagoljica - The Croatian Glagolitic Alphabet ( has a long and interesting history of more than a thousand years. )

The Croatian Glagolitic Alphabet

The Croats using the Glagolitic alphabet were the only nation in Europe who was given a special permission by Pope Innocent IV (in 1248)
to use their own language and this script in liturgy. More precisely, this permission had formally been given to the bishop Philip of Senj.
However, special care accorded by the Vatican to the Glagolitic liturgy in subsequent centuries (even by publishing several Glagolitic missals in Rome),
shows that this privilege applied to all Croatian lands using the Glagolitic liturgy, mostly along the coast.
As is well known, the Latin had been the privileged language in religious ceremonies in the Catholic Church
until the 2nd Vatican Synod held in 1962-1965, when it was decided to allow vernacular national languages to be used in the Catholic liturgy instead of Latin.
It is interesting that even today the Glagolitic liturgy is used in some Croatian churches.

In 1252 the Pope Innocent IV allowed Benedictine Glagolitic monks in Omisalj on the largest Croatian island of Krk
to use the Croatian Church-Slavonic liturgy and the Glagolitic Script instead of Latin.

The Rules of St. Benedict, written in Croatian Glagolitic Script in 13th or14th century,
are very probably the earliest known translation of Benedictine rules from Latin into a living language (Croatian Church-Slavonic).
Altogether 60 pages are preserved out of 70, that Benedictines had to know by heart.

We also know that Croatian Glagolitic Benedictines existed in the city of Krk, and on the island of Pasman near Zadar.
Even more peculiar was the existence of Benedictines on the island of Brac near Split, in Povlja, who used the Croatian Church-Slavonic liturgy,
and - the Croatian Cyrillic Script! It should be noted that members of the Benedictine monastic order were strict followers of the Latin liturgy
and of the Latin language and script everywhere in Europe - except in parts of the Croatian littoral.

According to rev. Ivan Ostojic, outstanding specialist on the history of benedictines in Croatia,
in 13th and 14th centuries Croatia had as many as 70 known benedictine monasteries for monks, and more than 20 for nuns.

Poema XIV — Igras se svakog dana... — Juegas todos los días... — Every Day You Play...

(1924)

prijevod: Zvonimir Golob Translated by William Stanley Merwin

(1927 - 1997) (1927 - 2019)

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Igras se svakog dana svjetloscu svemira.
   Posjetiteljice njezna, stizes u cvijetu i vodi.
   Vise si nego ta bijela glava koju stezem
   rukama, poput grozda, svakog dana.

Nikome nisi slicna otkako te volim.
Dopusti da te prostrem izmedju zutih vijenaca.
Tko pise tvoje ime slovima od dima izmedju juznih zvijezda?
Ah, pusti me da se sjetim kakva si bila tada
kada jos nisi postojala.

Odjednom vjetar urla i udara o moj zatvoren prozor.
Nebo je mreza skamenjena od sjenovitih riba.
Ovdje zamiru svi vjetrovi, svi.
I svlaci se kisa.
Ptice bjezeci prolaze.
Vjetar. Vjetar.
Mogu se boriti samo protiv ljudske snage.
Nevrijeme skuplja tamno lisce
i odvezuje sve barke vezane nocas o nebo.

Ti si ovdje. Ah, ti ne bjezis.
Odgovarat ces mi sve do posljednjeg krika.
Privini se uza me, kao da se plasis.
Ipak ti ponekad cudna sjena dira oci.

Sada i sada, malena, donosis mi kozju krv
i grudi su ti mirisne kao i ona.

Dok tuzan vjetar juri ubijajuci leptire
ljubim te i moja radost grize ti usta od sljive.
Mora da te boljelo da se na me priviknes,
na dusu mi divlju i samotnu, na ime od koga svi bjeze.
Toliko smo puta vidjeli zvijezdu kako gori
ljubeci nam oci
i sumrak sto se nad nama gubi u lepezi sto se vrti.

Milujuci te kisile su na te moje rijeci.
Odavno voljeh tvoje tijelo od osuncana sedefa.
Cak vjerujem da si vladarica svemira.
Donijet cu ti copihue, radosno cvijece s planina,
tamne lesnjake i sumske kosare cjelova.

Htio bih s tobom uciniti
sto proljece cini sa tresnjama.

   Juegas todos los días con la luz del universo.
   Sutil visitadora, llegas en la flor y en el agua.
   Eres más que esta blanca cabecita que aprieto
   como un racimo entre mis manos cada día.

A nadie te pareces desde que yo te amo.
Déjame tenderte entre guirnaldas amarillas.
Quién escribe tu nombre con letras de humo entre las estrellas del sur?
Ah déjame recordarte cómo eras entonces, cuando aún no existías.

De pronto el viento aúlla y golpea mi ventana cerrada.
El cielo es una red cuajada de peces sombríos.
Aquí vienen a dar todos los vientos, todos.
Se desviste la lluvia.

Pasan huyendo los pájaros.
El viento. El viento.
Yo sólo puedo luchar contra la fuerza de los hombres.
El temporal arremolina hojas oscuras
y suelta todas las barcas que anoche amarraron al cielo.

Tú estás aquí. Ah tú no huyes.
Tú me responderás hasta el último grito.
Ovíllate a mi lado como si tuvieras miedo.
Sin embargo alguna vez corrió una sombra extraña por tus ojos.

Ahora, ahora también, pequeña, me traes madreselvas,
y tienes hasta los senos perfumados.
Mientras el viento triste galopa matando mariposas
yo te amo, y mi alegría muerde tu boca de ciruela.

Cuanto te habrá dolido acostumbrarte a mí,
a mi alma sola y salvaje, a mi nombre que todos ahuyentan.
Hemos visto arder tantas veces el lucero besándonos los ojos
y sobre nuestras cabezas destorcerse los crepúsculos en abanicos girantes.

Mis palabras llovieron sobre ti acariciándote.
Amé desde hace tiempo tu cuerpo de nácar soleado.
Hasta te creo dueña del universo.
Te traeré de las montañas flores alegres, copihues,
avellanas oscuras, y cestas silvestres de besos.

Quiero hacer contigo
lo que la primavera hace con los cerezos.

Every day you play with the light of the universe.
Subtle visitor, you arrive in the flower and the water.
You are more than this white head that I hold tightly
as a cluster of fruit, every day, between my hands.

You are like nobody since I love you.
Let me spread you out among yellow garlands.
Who writes your name in letters of smoke among the stars of the south?
Oh let me remember you as you were before you existed.

Suddenly the wind howls and bangs at my shut window.
The sky is a net crammed with shadowy fish.
Here all the winds let go sooner or later, all of them.
The rain takes off her clothes.

The birds go by, fleeing.
The wind. The wind.
I can contend only against the power of men.
The storm whirls dark leaves
and turns loose all the boats that were moored last night to the sky.

You are here. Oh, you do not run away.
You will answer me to the last cry.
Cling to me as though you were frightened.
Even so, at one time a strange shadow ran through your eyes.

Now, now too, little one, you bring me honeysuckle,
and even your breasts smell of it.
While the sad wind goes slaughtering butterflies
I love you, and my happiness bites the plum of your mouth.

How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me,
my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running.
So many times we have seen the morning star burn, kissing our eyes,
and over our heads the gray light unwind in turning fans.

My words rained over you, stroking you.
A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body.
I go so far as to think that you own the universe.
I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells,
dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.

I want
to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.

1971. dobitnik Nobelove nagrade za knjizevnost

1971. Nobel Laureater in Literature

Pablo Neruda

(1904 - 1973)