Ana Nikvul

Ana Nikvul is a Serbian poetess, playwright and writer. She has published four collections of poetry. Received many significant rewards. Her poems are published in many journals and included in anthologies. She lives and works in Mladenovac, Serbia, where teaches Serbian language.

Apricot

When you come back from lunch
honey
come to see
apricot has blossomed
my father planted it when I was a kid
thunder halved it once
but couldn’t do anything to it
I guess the children’s little hands who steal from it while taking care of the branches
arranged to be so when we are not here
come to turn the sawdust on beneath it
they say there will be frost tonight
so I don’t have to wake up my dad
from eternal sleep

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After the exhibition

when in the mirror I see you instead of myself
then that’s not day from those you keep silent about
when I cross my legs while I drink coffee
and I read the story about sleepers who wake up from the sea
then I must have fallen asleep in the last verse of
unwritten poem about the air in your room
as you move towards the kitchen window to open it
because you cannot breathe from the density of thoughts in which you cuddle me
as the actor performs his farewell performance
finally ready to go to his life
and act nothing

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What I didn’t say while playing the blues

you led me I led you
we led each other
to support ourselves
the rain was dropping into the washbowl we were kissing
a girl was playing a harmonica and drinking beer
while eye swallowed by some various former and failed characters from the scene
we were kissing
I thought that my heart was going to burst out of luck
I thought gosh this ship sails really good
I thought he would put his hand on my pelvis to fertilize me
I thought I was the streets drunk beer drunk the desires drunk death drunk
which I buried for at least five days
I felt that a future day was coming under my skin
we met in it
we terribly lost control too
we are getting to the past which is now
to fix our mistakes and sins against God
we went to church to light on tears that we spilled with force
so we filled the whole church with them
then the wind blew and cleared the ashes on which it was more possible
to write than to walk
oh my darling
where we were together alone on the way
while we constantly and forever
loved each other over the wall

Translated by Danijela Trajković