Ne moraš biti dobra.
Ne moraš hodati na koljenima
stotinu milja kroz pustinju, kajući se.
Samo trebaš dozvoliti da meka životinja tvoga tijela
voli ono što voli.
Pričaj mi o očaju, svom, ja ću tebi pričati o mojem.
U međuvremenu svijet se i dalje vrti.
U međuvremenu sunce i čisti obluci kiše
kreću se kroz krajolike,
preko livada i dubokih šuma,
planina i rijeka.
U međuvremenu divlje guske, visoko na čistom plavom nebu,
vraćaju se kući.
Tko god da si, koliko god usamljena bila,
svijet se nudi tvojoj mašti,
zove te poput divljih guski, grubo i uzbudljivo –
neprestano iznova objavljujući tvoje mjesto
u obitelji stvari.
Mary Oliver
Divlje guske
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
Mary Oliver
Wild geese
