An Anthology of Croatian Literature

Luko Paljetak (1943- )

Luko Paljetak (1943– ) A scholar, translator, children’s author, and very prolific poet, Paljetak has been publishing since his twenties. He has translated Chaucer, Shakespeare, and Poe, among others; he writes treatises on early Croatian literature and the puppet theater, and he has composed more than two dozen volumes of poetry. The following poems are drawn from Exclamations: An Anthology of Croatian Poetry 1971–1995 (Zagreb: The Bridge, 2001): 299–300, 302, 305; the translator is Graham McMaster. An Anthology of Croatian Literature 292 Narcissus and the Water Water Narcissus in the water, in him the water too. lips look for lips and eye seeks eye, clouds are benign moles on the skin of blue. Encountering self, the youth moves an arm in desire. The smoothness of the surface comes afire fingers stretch out, a chance too good to be true, rings give birth to rings and in a ring expire, the speechless youth affords himself anew. Slowly flows the water, like glass lies straight, in a gilded frame on which alights a fly. Its own kiss at once increased in weight The water flows on to the sea and gazes at the sky The lily folds its petals, in lust the waves dilate To kiss himself Narcissus need not try. Narcissus To kiss himself Narcissus need not try, the lily folds its petal, in lust the waves dilate. the water flows on to the sea and gazes at the sky, its own kiss at once increased in weight, in a gilded frame on which alights a fly, slowly flows the water, like glass lies straight. The speechless youth affords himself anew rings give birth to rings and in a ring expire, fingers stretch out, a chance too good to be true, the smoothness of the surface comes afire encountering self, the youth moves an arm in desire. clouds are benign moles on the skin of blue lips look for lips and eye seeks eye, Narcissus in the water, in him the water too. Luko Paljetak 293 A Small White Square On a white wall a small white square, he’s right. Malevich, and so the snow falls and the entire design continues through the window to the sky, on flies man heading for that unseen smoke, his sighs are visible in the air. While I would certainly decline to change the placing of the arms, it is not apposite to move the wall or hill, though it might seem a lesser awe’s evoked each day, like that year long past that was crammed brim full of days unusual in life: if to every side the gaze is from the other. I have most famous feats, dear, behind me, an ascent upon you with a streamer of wildly waving winter love, a dalai lama my soul in the asylum of your knees. It could be written in the style more of poets loved by others, you take a saw, or a comb, and play, all melodies will please. A small square on the wall, here before us high on a white wall a small white square, a white dark Sapone Roberts At once I thought, Maestro, of Beatrice, walking naked along the bridge above the Arno making its terz’rima waves kiss: at the time I was holding in my hand sapone all’essenze di fiori di peschi. the heady scent of peach, (the kind mayhap she gathered, didn’t she) that gracefully at soft touch spreads and lascia sulla pelle una fragranza delicata e primaverile. An Anthology of Croatian Literature 294 set off the same desires, I believe, hot in belly, like yours too, master (I think so, really) secondo l’esperienza, from which, on one track verses flow, and on the other, the hand squeezes, holding Fiori Roberts* soap, down the naked back of a lady screaming, for it tickles, take it easy! just like Beatrice, Laura, or Anna— Maria Paljetak * Società Italo-Britannica: L. Manetti—H. Roberts & C. P. A. Firenze ...