July 31, 2011 » Ludi konj / The Insane Horse
Lives of a clipping, Wrong Star |
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I started writing this late in April, with a specific horse in mind. I'm not sure if the said horse is still alive, but he indeed held the territory inside of a specific circle and seemed to be really posessive about it.
And then? I lost the poem and I found it tonight, while complaining to two different people, of two different genders, from two different backgrounds, in two different countries, one a couple of km away and one halfway around the world, that I cannot find them. And somehow, a totally unrelated conversation with them contribute to the insane horse's absolutist persona. I like the way this turned out. Thank you, guys, for unexpected inspiration.
Ludi konj
Stani! Kreni! Stani! Kreni!
Tiho! Tiše! GLASNO, KAD TI REKOH!
Ne. Ne. NIKAKO. Ne.
Niste dovoljno utišali.
Hoćeš li planetarnu tehnogenu frljoku?
Eto ti je!
...
Pratili smo ludog konja, jer je bio prelep,
a meni to bi odnekud poznato.
Pratili smo ludog konja, jer nam bi dosadno,
a i ti si ga nešto svojat'o.
Ludi konj je imao manju teritoriju unutar kruga,
ali je tvrdio da je najbolja,
N-A-J-B-O-LJ-A,
da će se jednog dana obogatiti od snegokolačića
i da će moći da kupi sebi nove, mlađe kobile.
Ludi konj me je naučio da pečem hrpice pogrešnozvezdane prašine na logorskoj vatri,
zbog toga ovde bukte šumski požari svakog leta.
Ludi konj te je naučio...
..da ne možeš ničemu da ga naučiš, kao ni tebe.
...
Ja sam ludi konj. Ludi konj.
Pratili ste me do mog kruga, najboljeg kruga.
Ovde su sve najlepše kobile boje meda.
Živećemo kraće, ali naš život će biti lepši.
Plašimo lanad i jurimo veprove dok ne posrnu.
Prezrivo gledamo ljude, pa odgalopiramo.
Ne možete biti luđi od ludog konja
koji proždire bale besmislenog, bezmirisnog sena.
Fac simile!
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The Insane Horse
Stop! Start! Stop! Start!
Quiet! Even more quiet! I SAID LOUD!
No. No. ABSOLUTELY NOT. No.
You didn't make it quiet enough.
Want a planetary technogenic screwup?
Here it goes!
...
We followed the insane horse, because he was beautiful,
And that was awfully familiar to me from somewhere.
we followed the insane horse, because we were bored,
And you claimed it was your own, too.
The insane horse had less territory, inside of the circle,
But he claimed that it was the best.
T-H-E--B-E-S-T,
That one day he'll make a fortune from snowcookies
And that he'll get himself new, younger mares.
The insane horse taught me to roast wrongstarred dustbunnies on bonfire,
This is why there are forest fires here every summer.
The insane horse taught you that...
...You cannot teach him a thing, just like you.
...
I'm the insane horse. The insane horse.
You followed me to my circle, the best circle.
We have all the most beautiful, honey-tinted mares.
We won't live that long, but we'll have a full life.
We scare away fawns and chase boars until they drop.
We look at humans with contempt and gallop away.
You cannot be more insane than the insane horse,
Devouring piles of senseless, odourless hay.
Fac simile!
Iva is the owner of this blog. She's a web designer who loves poetry way too much and won't stop writing it. She also runs a couple of other websites, such as this one.
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