prvi mrtvac kojeg sam vidjela bio je ujak obrijan i počešljan ulijevo lijep poput mog kena imao je probušeno uho više se ne sjećam koje ali rinčicu su prije sprovoda skinuli otkrivena mu je bila samo glava i početak torza dovoljno da se vidi kravata i porub košulje kažu da ga dalje nisu ni oblačili jer je tijelo bilo smrskano od nesreće otputovao je tako bez pola odijela kamo god da se putuje kroz naslage ljepljive ilovače majka je dugo sanjala njegovo ukočeno lice i kad je otac umro lijes nije otvarala niti nam je dala da ga pogledamo prije pokopa
pants
the first dead man i ever saw was my uncle shaved and his hair parted left handsome like my ken his ear was pierced i can’t remember which one but before the funeral they took his earring off uncovered only his head and upper torso we could see his tie and the seam of his shirt said they didn’t bother dressing the rest as the body was smashed in the accident he so departed without the other half of the suit wheresoever one is to travel down the piles of sticky loam
mother long dreamt of his stiff face and when father had died she didn’t open the casket nor let us look at him before the burial
Translated from Croatian into English by Marina Veverec
2. kasna jesen
rasijecanje šumske tišine neodgodivim padanjem kestena znak je da je opna neopazivog polusvijeta ponovno šuplja i započinje rezbarenje jezgre stabala u pamćenje šume pakiranje svjetlosti u kraće dane duboko disanje studenog koje osiromašuje tlo
ljuštenje ljeta uvijek uznemiri duhove pa se uvlače u zidove kao dim u tkaninu
svaka jesen ona je u kojoj mrak dolazi poslije mraka oštro i neočekivano kao ranjavanje počinje posljednji lov u kojem nas smrt upoznaje osobno prije zatvaranja vrata
late autumn
the stillness of the forest is cleaved by the unflinching drops of chestnuts a sign the pellicle of an unobservable half-world is permeable once more the tree core is then carved into the forests’ memory the light wrapped into shorter days deep breaths of november impoverish the soil
the husking of summer always stirs up the spirits so they seep into the walls like smoke into the fabric
in every autumn dark comes after the dark sharply and abruptly like wounding begins the final hunt death meeting us in person before the doors close
Translated from Croatian into English by Marina Veverec
Monika Herceg (Sisak, 1990) is one of the most acclaimed young Croatian poets. In 2017., she was awarded with Goran Award for Best Young Poets for her unpublished poetry collection Initial Coordinates. The collection was published in 2018., upon which the poet won Kvirin Award for Best Young Poets, Fran Galović Award, Slavić award and international Mostovi Struge Award. In 2019, she was awarded the regional Lapis Histriae prize for her short story Tic-Tac, while her second collection, Closed Season, won the Na vrh jezika literary prize in 2020. Her third poetry book Time before language was published in 2020. and won Zvonko Milković award. Her poems have been published in various literary magazines and translated into ten languages. Her books are translated in Macedonian (Initial Coordinates) and French (selected poems Ciel sous tension, Galerie Librairie L'Ollave, 2019).