Noćas bih mogao napisati. . . – Pablo Neruda

Noćas bih mogao napisati. . . – Pablo Neruda / Tonight I Can Write by Pablo Neruda / Poezija, Tekst pesme, Video

Noćas bih mogao napisati. . .

Noćas bih mogao napisati najtužnije stihove.

Napisati, na primer: „Noć je posuta zvezdama,
trepere modre zvezde u daljini.“

Noćni vetar kruži nebom i peva.

Noćas bih mogao napisati najtužnije stihove.
Voleo sam je, a ponekad je i ona mene volela.

U noćima kao ova bila je u mom naručju.
Ljubljah je, koliko puta, ispod beskrajna neba.

Volela me, a ponekad i ja sam je voleo.
Kako da ne volim njene velike nepomične oči.

Noćas bih mogao napisati najtužnije stihove.
Misliti da je nemam, osećati da sam je izgubio.

Slušati noć beskrajnu, još mnogo dužu bez nje.
I stih pada na dušu kao rosa na pašnjak.

Nije važno što je ljubav moja ne sačuva,
Noć je posuta zvezdama i ona nije uza me.

To je sve. U daljini neko peva. U daljini.
Duša je moja nesretna što ju je izgubila.

Kao da je želi približiti moj pogled je traži.
Srce je moje traži, a ona nije uza me.

Ista noć u belo odeva ista stabla.
Ni mi, od nekada, nismo više isti.

Više je ne volim, sigurno, ali koliko sam voleo!
Moj glas je tražio vetar da takne njeno uho.

Drugome. Pripašće drugome. Ko pre mojih poljubaca,
Njen glas i jasno telo. Njene beskrajne oči.

Više je ne volim, zaista, no možda je ipak volim?
Ljubav je tako kratka, a zaborav tako dug.

I jer sam je u noćima poput ove držao u naručju,
duša je moja nesrećna što ju je izgubila.

Iako je to poslednja bol koju mi zadaje
i poslednji stihovi koje za nju pišem.

Pablo Neruda

Tonight I Can Write by Pablo Neruda

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example, ‘The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.’

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that’s certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tries to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another’s. She will be another’s. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that’s certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.

* From Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair


Foto kolaži: Panta Rei – www.pantarei.in.rs
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