BRKOVIĆ,  Balša
Balša Brković, born in Podgorica, Montenegro, in 1966, graduated from the Faculty of Philology in Belgrade, department for general literature and literary theory. He vrorks as culture editor for the most influential Montenegrin daily, "Vijesti". He writes poetry, prose and essays. He has published four books of poetry: Horses eating apricots, 1985, Silver-coloured Filip, 1991, and Contrapposto, 1998.
Balša Brković, roden 1966. u Podgorici, završio je Filološki fakultet u Beogradu, odsjek za opštu književnost i teoriju književnosti. Urednik je rubrike za kultura u najuticajnijem crnogorskom dnevnom listu "Vijesti". Piše poeziju, prozu i esejistiku. Objavio je četiri knjiga pjesama: Konji jedu breskve, 1985, Filip boje srebra, 1991, Rt svete Marije, 1993, i Contrapposto, 1998.
Sodobnost 2001 I 62
BALŠA BRKOVIĆ
New poems
Babylonian Poem
It's getting more and more difficult to write the Letter.
The clarity of words has been forever lost.
Once each poem was pregnant
with a terrible meaning:
on one side were woman and night,
on the other light and I.
Now it's different:
at night Penelope's weaving of my civilisation
gets undone, slowly melting away.
If ali words have been uttered,
everything has, we could say, already happened.
But that would be terrible:
as though the World were a big Theatre
in which for a long tirne there has been no
playwright, no director, no musician.
The entire space, Scene, Planet
is inhabited by actors
(who have gone wild without Others,
without the Script of a creator),
a whole ocean of actors
Sodobnost 2001 I 63
Balša   Brković
who endlessly repeat the scraps of the same parts. Simplv, there is no one to teli them what to say and where to tum.
If aH the words were already there in His wrath, then we have forever been - weary.
And yet the circle of the inexpressible keeps getting wider.
It is more and more difficult to eat the darkness of final
Nothing
and vomit light which changes everything into Yes,
into the certainty of Language.
Oh, lovely demons of erudition!
When God above Babylon scattered languages
he may simply have given us
a firmer structure:
for one does not reach the Creator's throne
by laying brick upon brick.
Cob-webs of Authorship
To A. Bečanović
Who would today dare start a poem with "Ich bin"?
In this tirne of ironic execution
of Fatherhood,
from which, in truth, everything stems:
no Order
would ever have been born
(and Play would never have turned into the Letter)
and we would stili be Blessed Beasts
if no connection were intended
- what magnificient Mythology -
between that night and this,
my,
child.
Sodobnost 2001 I 64
Balša   Brković
Lord, what a fragile narration Fatherhood is. Cob-webs of Authorsbip.
And who would today dare start a poem with "Ich bin"?
Spleen
The year flies like bad conscience and this hysterical strife through beautiful anguish no bigger than your sandal. Flirting with words, aftenvards.
People call the black cape of space evil, safe behind the laws of substance and elegant thoughts ... Dark ocean of indifference.
Thatfs why I shall turn towards
the darkest corner in the house.
Where once I saw
a multitude of hovering opaque marbles ...
Then I shall continue
towards shininf spheres
in a dank corner of the house.
I shall step among them.
Deeph/, with a look, I shall move my body through ...
And now Fm the špirit of the corner!
Svrimmer among circles
Dog which has forgotten ali houses ...
The black cape of space
sucks me in,
I hover in the heat of disinterested fall.
Sodobnost 2001 I 65
Balša   Brković
And so on,
(we could say eternity,
or absence of eternity,
which, again, is not only moment)
until my attention is drawn
by the bluish shine of a marble.
That was the pain which really disturbed me.
I knew I vvould swim on.
Until I place a foot on the Blue planet,
and until one look
and one dark corner
join in a silly dance,
like a smaller and larger fish
swallowing each other
simultaneously.
Translated by Evald Flisar
Sodobnost 2001 I 66
Sada je drugačije:
Penelopino tkanje moje civilizacije
obnoc se razvezuje, lako kopni.
Ako su sve riječi kazane,
sve se, reklo bi se, več dogodilo.
A to bi bilo stralno:
kao da je Svijet veliko Kazalište
u kojem več odavno nema
nijednog pisca, ni reditelja, ni muzičara.
Citav prostor, Scenu, Planetu
nastanjuju glumci
(podivljali bez svih Drugih, bez Rukopisa tvorca)
čitav okean glumaca
koji beskrajno ponavljaju
poderotine istih uloga.
Jednostavno, nema im ko reči
ni šta da kažu, ni kuda da krenu.
Sodobnost 2001 I 67
BALŠA BRKOVIĆ
Babilonska
Sve teže je napisati Pismo.
Izgubljena je nepovratno jasnoća riječi.
Nekad je svaka pjesma bila bremenita
jezovitim smislom:
na jednoj strani su žena i noč,
a na drugoj smo svjetlost i ja.
Balša   Brković
Ako su sve riječi bile još u Njegovoj srdžbi, onda smo mi oduvijek - umorni.
Ipak, sve širi je rub neizrecivog. I sve je teže jesti mrak posljednjeg Nista i bljuvati svjetlost koja sve pretvara u Jest, u izvjesnost Jezika.
O, ljupki demoni erudicije!
Kada je Bog nad Babilonom prosuo jezike
možda nam je samo
tvrdu gradu dao:
pa, ne stiže se do Tvorčevog prijestolja
slaganjem cigala.
Spleen
Godina brza kao losa vijest pa ta histerična pregnuča kroz lijepu tjeskobu, ne veču od tvoje sandale. Flert sa riječima, zatim.
Crnu pelerinu prostora ljudi zovu zlom, zaklonjeni zakonima tkiva i elegantnih misli... Tamni okean ravnodušja.
Okrenuču se stoga prema
najtamnijem uglu u kuči.
Tamo sam jednom vidio
mnoštvo lebdečih klikera mutnog sjaja ...
Onda ču otiči dalje,
prema kuglama sjajnim
u memljivom čošku kuče.
Uči ču medu njih.
Duboko, pogledom, tijelom proči ču ...
Sodobnost 2001 I 68
Balša   Brković
I več sam duh ugla!
plivač medu krugovima
Pas koji je zaboravio sve kuce ...
Crna pelerina prostora
usisava me,
lebdim u jari bezinteresnog pada.
I sve tako,
(moglo bi se reči vječnost,
ili izostanak vječnosti,
što, opet, nije samo tren)
dok plavičasti sajaj jednog klikera
nije privukao moju pažnju.
To je bio bol koji odista uzbuduje.
Znao sam da ču zaplivati i dalje. Sve dok ne stupim na Plavu planetu, i dok se jedan pogled i jedan tamni ugao ne zaigraju suludo, kao manja i veča riba koje jedna drugu gutaju istovremeno.
*
Sodobnost 2001 I 69