WE, THE MARIAS

MARIJA DRAGNIĆ TRANSLATED FROM MONTENEGRIN BY SUZANA VULJEVIC

Koka never was

capable, or at all
the domestic type.
still, routinely she’d clean
the windows under 
eyebrow-gutters.

through two wet panes of glass 
you could always see
vast, wooded
night

and deep within
lights trapped behind the window panes
of a big, purple house
and flying hurriedly out of them
voices dressed 
warmly. 

 

  * * *

 

it isn’t ice you’re walking on –
but marbles,

I tell her in the dead of winter
when she thinks she’s leaving home

in mermaid-skin boots
moving so fast it looks like
she’s walking just above the ground.

come back, I whisper,
whenever you like, I say 
to myself, and shut the door
on the mouth cavity

until voices
dressed warmly 
come knocking again. 

 

 * * *

 

Koka, the Torchbearer

Koka Tadić strolled the house
full hips swaying
lighting stars in the rooms
one after another

they burned like wishes
from small packs of smokes
from small packs of hearts
on shelves of crystal
on shelves of hearts
on a stove burning wood
on a stove burning hearts

from heart
to heart

of those who used to say
Koko, oh my, whoever sows embers
will reap flames!

one day when as expected
she stopped strolling
absentminded, rushed
looking preoccupied
I wasn’t there

but I knew
the stars had gone out
Koka didn’t even bat an eye
and on top of the stove, I bet
you could even sit.