Sea God and the wind rose

You live inside my head
and I know that
I even remember the moment
when you stopped to be a woman
and became my destiny

carelessly you passed through my morning
flirty, fragile, wild and happy,
with a smile, contagious like a plague

you have passed through,
like winds which come
and pass by,
and come again
unknowingly
nor what their names are
neither why they blow
nor where they go

and me, I was standing
as I am standing now
soundless
and still
watching you growing
and how you became much bigger:
bigger than the street you were walking down
bigger than the harbour that embraced you
bigger than the sea which was returning
the echo of your divine voice
bigger than the sky which was bowing
to you
and to your shadow
-bigger than everything
that has ever been
and that will ever be

you live in my head
and I know that

you just appear like a shadow
flirty, fragile, wild and happy,
like has never been nor will ever be
any other woman

and you grow
until you grow up bigger than everything
what is live in my head

when you are quiet like the summer mistral
and when you’re wild and cold like a storm
and when you’re crazy and warmer than a scirocco
-it’s always the same rose

the one that passes through some of mine
ancient flowed mornings
with a smile, contagious like a plague
wild and happy, the one that offers hands
so it could create some form from nothing
to create some meaning from total senselessness

and I’m standing – standing the same way
I was standing still like a statue
that ancient flowed morning
-morning that was more solemnly than any other! –
I’m standing still today as I will be standing
even after three million years

you live in my head
and I know that

the same way I know
-if anyone will be ever searching for me? -
they will find me one morning
in the thousand particles of the petrified brightness
in the shadow of your shadow, in the red hot ashes

like some crumbled
ancestral sea God,
like the sand
I will be everywhere,
where, on that morning
your foot was stamping

Vinko Kalinic
© Translation by Darko Kotevski,
Melbourne, Australia