VIDA NENADIC

VIDA NENADIĆ

Rođena je 27. 08. 1964.godine u Užicu.

Diplomirala je na Poljoprivrednom fakultetu u Beogradu 1988.godine.

Zastupljena je u više novina, časopisa, zbornika, antologija i elektronskih medija na srpskom, engleskom a neke njene pesme su prevedene i na bugarski, makedonski i nemački jezik.

Do sada je objavila:

„Prašina od zaborava“, knjiga pesama 2007.

„U izmaglici sećanja“, knjiga pesama 2007.

„Zoo Called London“, roman nagrađen nagradom „Miroslav Dereta”, 2008.

„Oblikujte svoj život“, prevod knjige Peni Feguson sa engleskog jezika, 2008.

„Kopča“, knjiga pesama 2009.

„Ako sam samo misao / If I Am Just a Thought”, dvojezična knjiga poezije 2010. u njenom prepevu na engleski jezik, nagrađena na konkursu Zavetine 2008.

Član je Udruženja književnika Srbije.

Kiša

Kiša mi je u kosi.

Osećam je po koži.

Zaustavjaju mi se njene kapi

i na vrhovima trepavica.

Ostavljam bare

iza svojih koraka

dok žedna koračam

nizom londonskih ulica,

pri tome

i ne hajući

da uzmem

za svaki slučaj

lepo spakovan

kišobran zlatne boje,

što u zadžepak ranca

lako staje.

Rain

The rain remains in my hair.

I feel it on my skin.

Its drops are on the edges

of my eye lashes and shadows.

I am leaving ponds

behind my steps,

while walking thirsty

on the streets of London.

I could not care less

to use, just in case,

the nicely packed umbrella

of golden color

in the pocket of my rucksack.

U dubini nečijih očiju

Preko znanih i neznanih puteva,

preko mostova nade,

preko pragova sećanja,

ispružila se tišina.

Preko uspomena,

bliskih ljudi

i dragih stvari,

nadvila se nepremostiva daljina.

Treba preći nepremostivu daljinu

pa čuti ispruženu tišinu,

i utopiti se

u dubini nečijih očiju.

Eyes Deep

Over the roads known and unknown,

Over the bridges of hope,

Over the gates of memories,

now there is just silence.

Over the people closest to us

and dear places

further distances are bent.

All distances far away should be bridged.

The silence should be heard.

And we should be drowning

deep in somebody’s eyes.

Putovanje avionom

Sedela je

na praznom sedištu do mene,

zaogrnuta kaputom

punim mirisa prošlosti,

umotana šalom,

obojenim bojama prolaznosti,

i za svaki slučaj,

vezana pojasom sigurnosti.

Tako visoko,

nadneta nad zemljom,

patnjom obeleženom,

kuvala je vino na mojim usnama,

sa mnom, uz viski, nazdravljala,

i gledala me kao da me oduvek poznaje,

ona, u dušu, hermetički zatvorena.

Gledala me je pogledom

kojim se ne gleda,

kroz ružičasta stakla, bez dioptrije.

A trebalo je da sama uđem u novo vreme

i nove prostore.

Trebalo je da me ostavi,

zauvek, u pređenom.

Ona ja je bila moja prošlost.

Ona je ja, dok ulazim u novu običnost,

na još jednom u nizu letova

koji, navodno, vode ka ostrvu svetlosti.

Ona me u svod nebeski upisa,

u večnu prolaznost svega.

Journey on the plane

She was sitting,

on an empty seat, next to me,

covered by thoughts

full of forgotten smells,

with the scarf, colored by past times,

and just in case,

she was tightened up with the security belt.

As high as it was,

above the land full of sufferings,

she was boiling wine on my lips,

drinking whisky with me and saying :cheers!

She was looking at me

as if she know me from somewhere.

She, in the soul hermetically closed all.

She was looking at me

with one of these looks

without the colorful lenses,

without the dioptre,

but I was to enter a new time

and a new space,

I was supposed to leave her for goods

In the time, which was passing by.

She was my past.

She was me entering a new ordinary place,

on one more flight in a row,

which was leading towards the coast of lights.

She was the one to sign me on

in the sky’s temporary but eternal space for all of us.

Muk

Znao je da je veća šansa

da će preživeti onaj

ko prvi zapuca.

Zato je on, u agoniji,

zapucao prvi,

pa nije bilo njegove krvi.

Samo je vreme

iz njegovih očiju

prosulo svoje kapi po putu.

U daljini je dugo zavijao pas.

Ili vuk.

Onda se nastupio muk.

Silence

He knew that the one

who shoots first

is more likely to survive.

Thus in agony

he took the first shot.

His blood nowhere, not a spot.

It was time alone

that dripped on the road

from his eyes.

The howls of a dog were distant and long.

A wolf as well it might have been.

Yet silence that followed few could have foreseen.

Ako sam samo misao

Ako sam pesma,

hvala vam što ste me otpevali.

Ako sam samo njen refren,

hvala vam što ste me zapamtili.

Ako sam jutarnji list,

hvala vam što ste me prelistali.

Ako sam knjiga,

hvala vam što ste me pročitali.

Ako sam pismo na vašoj adresi,

hvala vam što se još niste preselili.

Ako sam do vas zalutala,

hvala vam što ste me meni vratili.

Ako sam stari račun,

hvala vam što ste me platili.

Ako sam čestitka,

hvala vam što ste me napisali i poslali.

Ako sam samo slovo,

hvala vam što ste me naučili.

Ako sam izgovorena reč,

hvala vam što ste me čuli.

Ako sam slučajni pogled,

hvala vam što ste me sreli.

Ako sam samo misao,

hvala vam što ste me razumeli.

If I Am Just a Thought

If I am just a song

thank you for singing me.

If I am only a refrain

thank you for remembering me.

If I am the morning’s paper

thank you for leafing through.

If I am a book

thank you for reading me.

If I am a letter on your doorstep

thank you for not moving away yet.

If I am at your place as I was lost

thank you for returning me to myself.

If I am an old bill

thank you for paying me.

If I am a card

thank you for writing and sending me.

If I am a written letter

thank you for learning me.

If I am a word that was said

thank you for hearing me.

If I am an accidental look

thank you for seeing me.

If I was just a thought

thank you for understanding me.

Writer / Translator

Vida Nenadic