Vinko Kalinić nació en 1974, en Split, Croacia. Es escritor, poeta, periodista y activista de derechos humanos. Descendiente de una familia de pescadores de Komiža, en la isla de Vis. Es autor de cinco libros de poesía. Sus poemas han sido traducidos a varios idiomas y publicados en todo el mundo. Además de la lengua croata oficial, escribe en un dialecto especial: “Komiža”. Contínuamente actualiza su diario poético en Facebook, donde es seguidopor más de 2.100 personas. En octubre de este año, vendrá a Chile invitado al VI ENCUENTRO INTERNACIONAL DEL VALLE DE COLCHAGUA, organizado por la I. Municipalidad de Nancagua y la Universidad de Chile y con el patrocinio de diversas embajadas (España, Argentina, Uruguay) junto a la Embajada de la República de Croacia.
Diario Poético: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Vinko-Kalini%C4%87/110184921886
(hrvatski – engleski)
Sanjao sam da Te sanjam
i u dnu toga sna
stajao sam ja
ničeg nije bilo u tom snu
nebo bijaše prazno
i zvijezde sve
progutaše muk
samo usne Tvoje
titrahu u mraku
rahle ko zemlja
vrele ko kruh
ne znam, u tom snu
da li bijah čovjek
ili duh
pamtim samo
koliko duša
žedna
biti može
i uzdah onaj
- o, Bože!
od kojeg i sad, budan
u moždanima ćutim
miris Tvoje kože
I've dreamt of dreaming 'bout you
I've dreamt of dreaming 'bout you
And in the core of that dream
There I stood
The dream was blank
The sky was empty
and all the skies
were devoured by the dark
Your lips were the only thing
shivering in the dark
loose as the soil
fervid as bread
I don't know, that dream,
perhaps I was a human
or maybe just a ghost
I can only remember
just how much a soul
thirsty
could be
and that sigh
- oh, God!
that keeps awake
the feeling in my brain
the scent of your skin
Eto, kako te volim
Eto, kako te volim: kao ptice
koje kreću na put preko oceana
ne računajući na vrijeme i daljinu
ni koliko im snage treba
za premostiti pučinu,
ne hajući za kiše, oluje i bijes vjetrova
ni gdje će spavati, ni što će jesti
niti hoće li žive dočekati zoru
eto, zašto te volim: u meni jer budiš
ono neizrecivo, i jače od života
što i njih goni da se k nebu vinu
više od svega žudeći tek toplinu
bez pameti, bez računa, bez pokrića
kao jedna, krene ih cijela četa -
samo rašire krila i polete u prazninu
zanosno, kao i ja u tvoje oči
tek gluhu plavet gledajući
i lete tako, vjerujući
da će stići
sve do na kraj
svijeta
See, how I love you
See, how I love you: like birds
which get on the trip over the oceans
not counting the time and the distance
not even how much energy they would need
to cross the open sea
not worrying about the rains, storms and the winds anger
not even where would they sleep, or what would they eat
not even if they will survive the dawn alive
see, that’s why I love you: because you awake
that unspoken in me, and stronger than life
what also forces them to raise to the sky
more than anything, longing just the warmth
without mind, without score, without the security
like one, the whole troop goes-
they just spread their wings and fly into emptiness
passionately, just like me into your eyes
looking only at the mute blueness
and they fly, believing
that they will arrive
to the end of the
world
Bog mora i ruža vjetrova
Ti živiš u mojoj glavi
i ja to znam
pamtim čak i trenutak
kad si prestala biti ženom
i postala mi sudbinom
nehajno, prošla si kroz moje jutro
lepršava, krhka, divlja i sretna,
s osmjehom zaraznim ko kuga
prošla si,
kao što vjetrovi dolaze
i prolaze,
pa opet se vraćaju
neznajući
ni kako se zovu
ni zašto se viju
ni kamo idu
a ja sam stajao
kao što i sada stojim
nijemo
i ukipljeno
gledajući te kako rasteš
i kako si sve veća:
veća od ulice kojom si hodala
veća od luke koja te zagrlila
veća od mora koje je šumom
vraćalo jeku tvoga božanstvenog glasa
veća od neba koje se čitavo klanjalo
i tebi
i tvojoj sjeni
- veća od svega
što je ikada bilo
i što će ikada biti
ti živiš u mojoj glavi
i ja to znam
pojaviš se kao sjena
lepršava, krhka, divlja i sretna,
kao što nikada nije, niti će ikada biti
ijedna druga žena
i rasteš
sve dok ne narasteš veća od svega
što je živo u mojoj glavi
i kad si tiha poput ljetnog maestrala
i kad si divlja, i hladna kao bura
i kad si luda, i toplija od juga
- uvijek je to ista ruža
ona, što prolazi kroz neko moje
davno odlepršalo jutro
s osmjehom zaraznim ko kuga
divlja i sretna, što ruke pruža
od ničeg da stvori neki oblik
od besmisla da načini neki smisao
a ja stojim - stojim isto onako
kao što sam stajao ukipljeno
onog davnog odlepršalog jutra
- jutra svečanijeg od svakog jutra! -
stojim i danas, kao što ću stajati
i kad prođe trista milijuna godina
ti živiš u mojoj glavi
i ja to znam
kao što znam
- ako me ikada itko bude tražio? -
pronaći će me jednoga jutra
u tisuću zrnaca okamenjene svijetlosti
u sjeni tvoje sjene, u užarenom pepelu
poput kakvog razmrvljenog
drevnog morskog boga,
poput pijeska
bit će me posvuda,
gdje onog jutra
gazila je tvoja noga
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
Ostat ćeš uvijek moja
I sunce ovo što se tebi klanja
utonut će u ocean svojih sanja,
u duboku plavet, u beskrajno more.
I vratit će se opet svečano i novo,
i nekom drugom darovano.
A kako ne bi oči moje, što gore
i razliveno plešu pred licem tvojim
kao sjene na zidu u agoniji svijeća?
Ima li nešto tužnije i ganutljivo do boli
od zabranjenih želja?
Ipak, jer si veća od neba
i od svega što mojoj duši treba,
reći ću ti samo: rasti! rasti!
- Budi sretna bez ostatka!
I neka je u meni sve pusto
i žalosnije od uvenulog cvijeća,
ako i nema glasa
još zvoni jeka
srca razbijena:
ostat ćeš uvijek moja
na dnu duše makar kao sjena.
Jednom ćeš se sjećat -
na nekom trošnom stolu
punom zaboravljenih stvari,
kao i uvijek, nježne i pune svjetla,
razigrano pružat će se tvoje ruke.
Nasuprot, i ja ću stajati,
u tvojoj sjeni.
Prepoznat ćeš me u nekoj davno,
ali nikad do kraja,
rastopljenoj mrlji od voska.
U jednom trenu bit ćeš opet
najljepša koja zemljom hoda.
Neomeđiva. I sva
kao kiša kad se roska.
Iznenada, iz luke
ili tko zna otkud,
dolelujat će miris proljeća.
I tad, u uzdahu tvom bit će me više
nego što me ikad igdje bilo.
- Eh, da!
Gorila je jednom i ova svijeća...
You will stay forever mine
This sun that bows to you too
will sink into the ocean of it own dreams,
into the deep blue, into the endless sea.
It will return again solemnly and new,
given as a gift to someone else.
So, why wouldn’t my eyes, that burn
and dance spilled in front of your face
like the shadows on the wall in the candle’s agony?
Is there anything sadder and touchier to the pain
from forbidden wishes?
Although, as you are bigger than heaven
and from all that my soul would need
I will only say: grow! grow!
- Be happy without regret!
Inside of me is all deserted
and sadder than dried flowers
even if there’s no voice
my broken heart is still echoing:
you will stay forever mine
at the bottom of my heart even just like a shadow.
You will remember once -
on some old and run down table
full of forgotten things,
as always, tender and full of light
your hands will be stretching playfully.
Opposite, I will be standing,
in your shadow.
You will recognize me in some ancient,
but never to completely,
melted wax smudge.
And for the moment you will be again
most beautiful one that walks on this Earth.
Unbordered. And all like the rain
when it glitters.
Suddenly, from the harbour
or who knows where from,
fragrance of spring will come in waves.
And then, in your breath I will be even more
than i was ever anywhere else.
- Oh, yes!
This candle was already burning once before...
Govorila je meni mati moja
Govorila je meni mati moja:
sinko, na nebesima je sunce,
ne trči za njim, njega još nitko
dohvatio nije.
- A ja joj nisam vjerovao,
jer sunce ono što se svakog jutra
na ukrajku neba rađa, da osvijetli nam dan,
sija samo dok ne padne noć,
a moje sunce sja i kad sve je crno
kao ugar.
Govorila je meni mati moja:
ne zanosi se, sinko,
sunce je slijepo!
A ja je nisam poslušao.
- Kako živjeti bez sunca?
I što bi drugo sunce bilo
do li oči one što uznose
i svijet ovaj, i dušu moju
k nebesima.
Ne govori više mati moja:
ne trči, sinko,
niti da je sunce
slijepo i visoko.
Tek kadikad samilosno
majčinsko zablista joj oko:
kad zamjene se noć i dan,
znade mati, koje sunce
sin joj svojeglav
zakopa, u srcu
duboko.
My mother was telling me
My mother was telling me:
my son, the Sun is up in heaven,
don’t run after it, as nobody’s ever
reached it so far.
- And me, I haven’t believed her,
because the Sun is something that every morning
emerges in the corner of the sky, to light up our day,
shines only till the night falls,
and my Sun shines even when everything else is
black like a coal.
My mother was telling me:
don’t get carried away, my son,
the Sun is blind!
And I didn’t listen to her.
- How is to live without the Sun?
And what else could the Sun be
but the eyes that lift up
this world, and my soul
right up to heaven.
My mother is not telling anymore:
don’t run, my son,
not even, that the Sun is
blind and high.
Only sometimes compassionately
her motherly eye sparkles:
when night replaces the day,
mother knows, which Sun
her stubborn son
has buried, deep
into his heart.
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