Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Robert Perišić

with my girlfriend I’m dreaming about ghosts on the terrace

with my girlfriend I’m dreaming about ghosts on terrace
sea mumbles for itself
and the sky is clear, and dark
our car outside the house runs at idle
it runs
you can see nothing else
but we are dreaming about pigeons all night
and cathedrals
as if we were never communists
and, why should you ask?
Jesus sits in our car
and drives all night without a word
 
to me, the noon is the best
they call me on my cellphone
I'm getting up
light blinds me and I can't see
because I'm a gothic chip
and he fixes the rearview mirror
runs his hand through his hair
and asks hitchhikers on their way to Frisco
Zabok
Lyon
no one goes to Korenica
and he asks them
why are we so poor?
his brain works
works
anyone can see that
our children grow up and get
on the road
 
outside Charlie Café
hundreds of people
are looking at the engine of our new car
and they talk, they spit

with my girlfriend I’m dreaming about ghosts on the terrace

moja draga i ja na terasi sanjamo duhove
more nešto govori u sebi
i nebo je čisto, mračno
naš automobil ispred kuće radi na minimumu
radi
ništa se ne vidi
evo čitavu noć sanjamo golubove
i katedrale
kao da nismo bili komunisti
i, zašto bi nekoga pitao?
Isus sjeda u naš automobil
i nijem vozi cijelu noć
 
meni je podne zakon
tad me zovu mobitelom
ustajem
ništa ja ne vidim od svjetla
jer sam gotički čip
a on popravlja retrovizor
prstima prolazi kroz kosu
i pita stopere koji idu u Frisco
Zabok
Lyon
nitko ne ide u Korenicu
i pita ih
zašto smo tako siromašni?
njegov mozak radi
radi
bilo tko to može vidjeti
naša djeca rastu i odlaze
na cestu
 
ispred kafića Charlie
na stotine ljudi
zagleda u motor našeg novog automobila
i govore, pljujući
Close

with my girlfriend I’m dreaming about ghosts on the terrace

with my girlfriend I’m dreaming about ghosts on terrace
sea mumbles for itself
and the sky is clear, and dark
our car outside the house runs at idle
it runs
you can see nothing else
but we are dreaming about pigeons all night
and cathedrals
as if we were never communists
and, why should you ask?
Jesus sits in our car
and drives all night without a word
 
to me, the noon is the best
they call me on my cellphone
I'm getting up
light blinds me and I can't see
because I'm a gothic chip
and he fixes the rearview mirror
runs his hand through his hair
and asks hitchhikers on their way to Frisco
Zabok
Lyon
no one goes to Korenica
and he asks them
why are we so poor?
his brain works
works
anyone can see that
our children grow up and get
on the road
 
outside Charlie Café
hundreds of people
are looking at the engine of our new car
and they talk, they spit

with my girlfriend I’m dreaming about ghosts on the terrace

with my girlfriend I’m dreaming about ghosts on terrace
sea mumbles for itself
and the sky is clear, and dark
our car outside the house runs at idle
it runs
you can see nothing else
but we are dreaming about pigeons all night
and cathedrals
as if we were never communists
and, why should you ask?
Jesus sits in our car
and drives all night without a word
 
to me, the noon is the best
they call me on my cellphone
I'm getting up
light blinds me and I can't see
because I'm a gothic chip
and he fixes the rearview mirror
runs his hand through his hair
and asks hitchhikers on their way to Frisco
Zabok
Lyon
no one goes to Korenica
and he asks them
why are we so poor?
his brain works
works
anyone can see that
our children grow up and get
on the road
 
outside Charlie Café
hundreds of people
are looking at the engine of our new car
and they talk, they spit
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère