DURAKOVIĆ,   Ferida
Ferida Duraković, born in 1957 in Olovo, Bosnia, graduated from Sarajevo University. VVorked as an ice-cream seller, book seller, teacher, proof reader, cultural programmes manager, war guide and translator ... Currentlv she is Secretarv of the P.E.N. Centre of Bosnia and Herzegovina. During the war she lost relatives, friends, farnih/ house and her private librarv. In 1995, at the invitation of the Sitka Center for Art and Ecology, Otis, Oregon, she spent two months in the U.S. as a visiting poet. In 1999, after winning the Vasyl Stus Freedom-to-Write Award for Heart of Darkness, she spent two weeks as a visiting poet at universities in New England. She has published many books of poetry and children's prose, among them A Bali after the Masked Bali, 1977, Eyes Looking at Me, 1982, A Small Night Lamp, 1989, Heart of Darkness, 1994.
Ferida Duraković, rodena 1957. godine v Olovu, v Bosni, diplomirala na sarajevskom univerzitetu. Radila je kao prodavačica sladoleda i knjiga, učiteljica, korektorka, voditeljica kulturnih programa, poslovoda knjižare, ratni vodič i prevodilac ... Sada je tajnica P.E.N centra Bosne i Hercegovine. U vrijeme rata je izgubila srodnike, prijatelje, obiteljsku kucu i vlastitu biblioteku. 1995. godine je na poziv Sitka centra za umjetnost i ekologiju u Otisu u Oregonu preživjela dva meseca u Americi. Nakon što je za svoju pjesničku zbirku Srce tame dobila nagradu Vasvla Stusa "Freedom to Write" je 1999. dva tjedna čitala po univerzitetima u Novoj Engleskoj. Pored knjiga za djecu objavila je više pesničkih zbirki, pored ostalih Bal po maskama, 1977, Oči koje me gledajo, 1982, Mala nočna svjetiljka, 1989 i Srce tame, 1994.
Sodobnost 2001 I 118
FERIDA  DURAKOVIĆ
Beauty and the beast
Untruthful Beauty
Slammed the door
Finallv
As the Homeland did,
Then vanished
Into historv.
Nonetheless, Beautv,
Untruthful one,
And the Homeland
Have something in common -
Both leave behind
The boys
Who will die
For them.
/
Georg Trakl on the battlefield again in 1993
Our dear Lord dwells above the planeš, in the highest Heaven. His golden eyes settle on the dark, on blackened Sarajevo. Blossoms and shells are falling outside my window. Madness and me. We are alone, we are alone, alone.
Sodobnost 2001 I 119
Ferida   Duraković
A war letter
(About the letter from before the war)
The Universe sent darkness to our humble home, which is gone now. The letter, and every single book, and dear things: they ali burned like Rome. But it is just an image! Have a look:
We aren't gone! And manuscripts never burn, they say. It means that 111 read anew that precious letter, whenever you turn, whenever only those few syllables
change our agony into an endlessly dull winter afternoon. In those hours everything's so simple that I suffer (same old song), I don't love anyone, and the fear devours
the passion, which could bring back the first day of love, the re-creation, is finally gone like the heart grown in a poplar tree! And may only this flourishing pain stop! May everyone alone
leave for good, to wherever they want: to
water, air, or fire. And us? What fireside
awaits us in the times to come? Here is our home,
where mother can never tire of planting
roses and fruit, and us, her poor ones, on her palm.
Translated by Amela Simić
Sodobnost 2001 I 120
Ferida   Duraković
Ten year old girl perceives her homeland while watching the ocean
ForA.
I
This morning I took a long walk through
the forest
which was made by J. R. R. Tolkien
when he was in a real good mood.
Then I sat there
on the sunlit mountain slope
looking at the ocean
waiting for a huge whale to come up
from ali the water.
But he did not show
and I ate an apple instead.
II
Those (I think) who know what
I am writing about
will not - nor need to - keep on
reading these lines.
And those who do not know
what I am writing about
will start another war, back there
far far away, in my tiny homeland
which was also made by J. R. R. Tolkien
when he was in a good mood, but
ALL OF A SUDDEN SOMEBODY KNOCKED
AT HIS STUDY DOOR AND
the happy ending (which he was really good at)
simply slipped off his mind.
After he died
at the age of two fifty
and never finished the story ...
Sodobnost 2001 I 121
Ferida   Duraković
III
Today I am waiting for him to come up from ali that water: somebody has to give an end to my tiny homeland story. I do not know whether Mr. President can do something to make him return -he has, you know, those Striders and aH that stuff-
Anyway
I guess I will just sit here and
wait for a while.
I think I deserve it. I have been
a good girl, after ali.
I am just a little bit afraid of the dark
coming from far away across the ocean.
Otis, Oregon Februarj 26, 1995
Sodobnost 2001 I 122
FERIDA DURAKOVIĆ
Ratno pismo
(O pismu od prije rata)
Vratio se mrak iz svemira u našu kucu: Nje više nema. Knjige i pismo jedno, i drage stvari, sve u goniču pretvorilo se sliku. No, nismo
nestali mi! Ni rukopisi ne gore, vele, što znači da čitaču ponovo to drago pismo, gdje želiš, gdje žele slova da dugo stradanje ovo
u dugo dosadno popodne zimsko svedu, kad ne volim nikog, i patim što sve je tako obično i sve u redu, sto nema zanosa onog da vrati
/ prvi dan Ijubavi, to ponovno stvaranje svijeta, to urastanje srca u jablan iznad vode! No neka samo patnja ova prestane da cvjeta i neka več jednom ode
svako, kud koji hoče:
u vatru, u vodu, u zrak! A mi? U čiji dom? Mi čemo ovdje, gdje Majka uzgaja ruže i voče, i nas, sirote, na dlanu svom.
Sodobnost 2001 I 123