OLINKO DELORKO

Born 1910 – Died 2000

 

Born in Split, Dalmatia. Lives in Zagreb. His books of poetry are:

PJESME [Poems) 1934, RASTUŽENA EUTERPA [The Mournful Euterpe] 1937, RAZIGRANI VODOSKOCI [The Animated Fountains] 1940, ZGODE POREMECENE SREĆE [Occasions of a Disturbed Happiness] 1942, UZNOSITE LUTNJE [Exalted Presentiments] 1944, IZGARANJA [The Burnings Out] 1958, SVIJETLI I TAMNI SATI [The Light and the Dark Hours] 1961, LIRSKI EDEN [The Lyric Eden] 1965, DOLAZE OBLACI [The Clouds Are Coming] 1978.

 

UVIJEK TA KUĆA

 

ALWAYS THIS HOUSE

 

Uvijek ta kuća i to staro groblje

na kome se ne pokapa više,

rastužuju pogled bezbrižna šetača,

 

Always this house and this old cemetery,

in which they no longer bury anyone,

sadden the view of the idle stroller,

 

uvijek to more, što se o hrid lomi,

i što s nebom skupa dahom sreće diše,

uzdiže dušu,

pa u toj igri svijetla i sjene,

prati čuvstvo bola

na šetnji i mene,

čuvstvo bola, što postaje sladje,

kako se korak više brdom gubi.

 

Always this sea, breaking against the cliffs,

this sea which shares with the sky the breath of happiness,

uplifts the soul,

and in this play of light and shadow

a feeling of grief accompanies me

even while I am taking this walk,

a feeling of grief which becomes more sweet

the more the echo of my steps dies away from the hill.

 

Nekad dok je srce bilo mladje,

tu je ljubav znala vrlo lijepe riječi,

da mi šapće u borova šumu,

al život se promijenio,

svaki šapat bratski

zavijek je zanijemio

i samo ko tudjinca

motri me taj kraj.

 

Once when the heart was younger,

love used to whisper here

beautiful words to me through the rustle of the pines,

but life has changed,

every brotherly whisper

has been muted forever,

and this country looks at me

only as a stranger

 

Pa sada od sveg ostao je spomen,

a osjećaj smrti, nestalnost trenutka,

zamah vala, Ito se zalud o hrid krši,

jarbol potopljena broda,

što iz vode strši,

mrači, potamnjuje svijetlog dana sjaj!

 

So only a memory from all of it is left to me now,

while the feeling of death, the moment of uncertainty,

the useless dashing of the wave against the rock,

the mast of the sunken ship,

thrusting out from the sea,

dims the splendor of the shining day!

 

 

 

NA RIMSKIM ISKOPINAMA U SOLINU

 

AT THE ROMAN EXCAVATIONS AT SOLIN[1]

 

Ma kakva vedrina bila nam u duši,

i ma kakvo nebo pratilo nas putem

(nebo s kojim može boja smaragda

jedino da se uporedi pravo),

ove ruševine pomno otkopane

koje se šire oko nas posvuda,

najposlije našu potiskuju radost

a na njeno mjesto javlja se u srcu:

klonulost, umor, pa sjeta i tuga.

 

No matter how serene our soul

and no matter what kind of sky

accompanies us on the road

(sky to which only the emerald's color

could do full justice),

these ruins excavated with such care

which extend around us on all sides

dishearten us in the end,

and instead of joy there appears in our heart

depression, weariness, melancholy, and gloom.

 

Glas provodiča postaje sve teži:

tu su bili hramovi, kupališta, vrata,

tuda su se nizale ulice i trgovi,

tuda je vodila prava rimska cesta,

i sad se vidi ravna, popločana

a na njoj otisnut trag davnih kotača.

 

The guide's voice is getting more strident:

There stood the temples, the gates, the baths,

there was a row of streets and squares,

over yonder there passed a real Roman road,

and it is still to be seen there, straight and well-paved,

and on it there are still the tracks of the ancient wheels.

 

Tjeskoba neka obuhvaća dušu

i postala bi sve gora, nesnosnija

da iz blizog polja ne čuje se pjesma

ranoga šturka i ne vidi dolje,

iza hrpe stijena, raspjevano more,

s nekoliko krupnih usidrenih ladja,

a iza njih brodogradilište, na kom

odzvanja cijelog dana žamor strojeva.

 

The anxiety which seizes one's soul

would be much worse, more unbearable,

should one not hear from the nearby field the song

of the early cricket, and observe down there,

behind a pile of stones, the singing sea,

with several anchored boats,

and beyond them the shipyard

where all day resounds the clangor of machines.

 

 

 



[1] Solin (Lat. Salona) was once the capital of the ancient Roman province of Dalmatia, destroyed in 615 and subsequently incorporated into the medieval Kingdom of Croatia. There are important excavations of Roman monuments (amphitheater, thermae, etc.) and of Old Croatian architecture.