Poetry International Poetry International
Gedicht

Brane Mozetič

What happened?

What happened?  I went on
a night-time stroll to some sort of reservation,
alternative forces from a pathetic nation
to which I belong, and look, it carried me
here and there. In darkness they sipped
beer, talked, yelled, some of them
jumping around wildly on the dance floor.
It stank of grass, two dealers
poked me in the ribs, what should I buy.
Then I said to myself, maybe
something nice will come along. I had already
spent half my life trying to
stay alive to perhaps discover the mystery
of life! Now I’ve wandered off
among the young so that I would forget
fruitless efforts, and here was a boy
who was only waiting to drug himself
unconscious. I pushed the pill in
his hand and laughed.
I knew that I could not remain
sober. He got higher,
rolling his eyes, grinding his teeth
and spoke with great difficulty.
He stuck to my heels and our silence
amidst head-pounding music,
moved me. I don’t know how we came
home, but there I was lying next to him.
He slept, night outside, and I
could not fall asleep. So I got dressed,
stepped out between the houses and the streets.
Only then did I realize it was snowing,
the ground covered. I looked up.
Under the beams of the street lamps I saw
snowflakes flying towards me,
everything spinning, so beautiful
that all questions became completely
meaningless.

What happened?

Kaj se je sploh zgodilo? Šel sem na
nočno potikanje v nekakšen rezervat
alternativnih sil tega bednega naroda,
ki mu pripadam, in glej, kar sem in
tja me je nosilo. V temi so srkali
pivo, se pogovarjali, drugi drli, nekaj
jih je divje poskakovalo po plesišču.
Zasmrdelo je po travi, dva dilerja sta
me suvala pod rebra, naj kaj kupim.
Potem sem si rekel, naj bo pa za rezervo,
mogoče pride kaj lepega mimo. In ko
sem se že pol življenja tako trudil, da
bi ostal živ in morda odkril skrivnost
življenja! Zdaj pa sem odtaval med
najmlajše plesalce, da bi pozabil na
jalov trud, in že je bil tu nek fant,
ki je samo čakal na to, da se omamlja
do nezavesti. Potisnil sem mu tabletko
v roko in se zarotniško nasmehnil.
Vedel sem, da ob tem ne smem ostati
trezen, kajti njega je vse bolj metalo,
obračal je oči, škrtal z zobmi
in težko je še izgovoril kako besedo.
Prilepil se je obme in ta najin
molk ob bučnem udarjanju glasbe me
je premaknil. Ne vem, kako sva prišla do
doma, kar naenkrat sem ležal poleg njega.
Spal je, zunaj je bila še noč, jaz pa
nisem mogel zaspati. Oblekel sem se in
stopil ven med hiše in ceste. Šele sedaj
sem opazil, da sneži, da je po tleh
vse polno snega. Pogledal sem gor, da
sem v soju cestnih luči videl le
snežinke, ki so letele proti meni. Vse
se je vrtelo, bilo je tako lepo, da
so se mi zazdela vsa vprašanja povsem
brez pomena.
Brane  Mozetič

Brane Mozetič

(Slovenië, 1958)

Landen

Ontdek andere dichters en gedichten uit Slovenië

Gedichten Dichters

Talen

Ontdek andere dichters en gedichten in het Sloveens

Gedichten Dichters
Close

What happened?

Kaj se je sploh zgodilo? Šel sem na
nočno potikanje v nekakšen rezervat
alternativnih sil tega bednega naroda,
ki mu pripadam, in glej, kar sem in
tja me je nosilo. V temi so srkali
pivo, se pogovarjali, drugi drli, nekaj
jih je divje poskakovalo po plesišču.
Zasmrdelo je po travi, dva dilerja sta
me suvala pod rebra, naj kaj kupim.
Potem sem si rekel, naj bo pa za rezervo,
mogoče pride kaj lepega mimo. In ko
sem se že pol življenja tako trudil, da
bi ostal živ in morda odkril skrivnost
življenja! Zdaj pa sem odtaval med
najmlajše plesalce, da bi pozabil na
jalov trud, in že je bil tu nek fant,
ki je samo čakal na to, da se omamlja
do nezavesti. Potisnil sem mu tabletko
v roko in se zarotniško nasmehnil.
Vedel sem, da ob tem ne smem ostati
trezen, kajti njega je vse bolj metalo,
obračal je oči, škrtal z zobmi
in težko je še izgovoril kako besedo.
Prilepil se je obme in ta najin
molk ob bučnem udarjanju glasbe me
je premaknil. Ne vem, kako sva prišla do
doma, kar naenkrat sem ležal poleg njega.
Spal je, zunaj je bila še noč, jaz pa
nisem mogel zaspati. Oblekel sem se in
stopil ven med hiše in ceste. Šele sedaj
sem opazil, da sneži, da je po tleh
vse polno snega. Pogledal sem gor, da
sem v soju cestnih luči videl le
snežinke, ki so letele proti meni. Vse
se je vrtelo, bilo je tako lepo, da
so se mi zazdela vsa vprašanja povsem
brez pomena.

What happened?

What happened?  I went on
a night-time stroll to some sort of reservation,
alternative forces from a pathetic nation
to which I belong, and look, it carried me
here and there. In darkness they sipped
beer, talked, yelled, some of them
jumping around wildly on the dance floor.
It stank of grass, two dealers
poked me in the ribs, what should I buy.
Then I said to myself, maybe
something nice will come along. I had already
spent half my life trying to
stay alive to perhaps discover the mystery
of life! Now I’ve wandered off
among the young so that I would forget
fruitless efforts, and here was a boy
who was only waiting to drug himself
unconscious. I pushed the pill in
his hand and laughed.
I knew that I could not remain
sober. He got higher,
rolling his eyes, grinding his teeth
and spoke with great difficulty.
He stuck to my heels and our silence
amidst head-pounding music,
moved me. I don’t know how we came
home, but there I was lying next to him.
He slept, night outside, and I
could not fall asleep. So I got dressed,
stepped out between the houses and the streets.
Only then did I realize it was snowing,
the ground covered. I looked up.
Under the beams of the street lamps I saw
snowflakes flying towards me,
everything spinning, so beautiful
that all questions became completely
meaningless.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère