Translated by Alex Arsich ,Pula-Croatia
Emilija Vasiljević
m e n u e t
This is my song,
a silk scarf
says,
wrapped around a guitar’s waist.
This is my tenderness
i say,
enveloped with the memory
of the night
in which you,
with the accompaniement of the first
snowflakes
and a guitar,
spoke verses to me...
It was early
for our hands to embrace
so my fingers
danced
in the silk of the scarf
(you said i looked good in cyclamen)
and yours-
on the guitar strings
(i said you looked good with a guitar)
And we laughed,
laughed.
The snoflakes danced, danced-
- a m e n u e t
for the Guitar and the Scarf
the color of cyclamen.
© Emma Emilija Vasiljevic, Pula-Croatia
Translated by Alex Arsich ,Pula-Croatia
=============================
m e n u e t
Ovo je moja pjesma,
kaže
svilena marama,
ovita o struk gitare.
Ovo je moja nježnost,
kažem,
ogrnuta sjećanjem
na noć
u kojoj si mi,
uz pratnju prvih pahulja
i gitare,
stihove govorio...
Bilo je rano
da zagrlimo ruke,
pa su moji prsti
plesali
svilom marame
(rekao si da mi pristaje boja ciklame)
a tvoji-
strunama gitare
(rekla sam da tebi gitara lijepo pristaje)
I smijali smo se,
Smijali.
Pahulje su plesale, plesale-
- m e n u e t
za Gitaru i Maramu boje
ciklame.
© Emma Emilija Vasiljević Pula-Croatia
