SELMA KOPIĆ

 

One City, One Love

 

I love the mornings clear and blue

when the birds chirp, the grass smells

and the sun shines on my home.

In the valley, on a clear day, my city shines.

Alleys flow down the hill, like streams,

flowers bloom in them

and sprout from the cobblestones.

The aromas of meat pie and flowers

and coffee that is often cooked

are mixed.

Houses, old and new,

were lined up in the neighborhoods,

from every house someone waves, calls you by name.

I greet the old woman with a smile,

who greets the guests on the doorstep.

Home is where your heart draws you,

there is everything mine, present, past, future.

On each corner there is a memory

of young days, happy times, joys and sorrows,

when we were there for each other.

My city, nestled among the hills,

lasts and survives, for centuries,

there is a place for everyone in it,

whoever it is, wherever it comes from.

And I am so happy and proud to be a part of it.

The white world is wide and beautiful,

but there is only one city in the heart - 075.

 

JEDAN GRAD, JEDNA LJUBAV

 

Volim jutra bistra i plava

kad cvrkuću ptice i miriše trava,

a sunce moj dom obasjava.

U kotlini, po vedrom danu,

blista moj grad, kao na dlanu.

Niz brda slijevaju se sokaci, k'o potoci,

u njima cvijeće i iz kaldrme niče.

Miješaju se mirisi bureka i cvijeća

i kafe koja se malo-malo peče.

U mahalama nanizale se kuće, stare i nove,

iz svake neko maše, imenom zove.

S osmijehom pozdravljam nanu dragu

što goste dočekuje na kućnom pragu.

Dom je tamo gdje te srce vuče,

tu sve je moje, sadašnje, prošlo, buduće.

Na svakom ćošku po jedna uspomena

na mlade dane, sretna vremena,

na radosti i tuge,

kad bili smo tu jedni za druge.

Moj grad,

među brda ugnijezdio se, traje i opstaje,

vijekovima,

u njemu za svakog mjesta ima,

ma ko bio, odakle god dolazio.

A ja sam tako sretna i ponosna

što sam njegov dio.

Širok je i prekrasan bijeli svijet,

al' samo je jedan grad u srcu- 075.

 

The Memory Is Still Alive

 

An unknown road is calling you,

from country to country,

from place to place.

How many sighs

did you leave on those quays,

how many tears

you shed on those bridges,

as you wander the world

looking for your place,

a place similar to the one

you left behind

a long time ago?

You think you left it,

but it's wandering around with you.

You admire natural wonders,

forests, cliffs,

sunsets behind

the mountain massifs,

the reflection of the sky

on the most beautiful waterfalls.

And a living memory

doesn't give you peace!

There is no such thing

in the city of your youth.

And you admire those beauties,

in short,

then you start the engine

and continue the journey without any joy.

Are there any alleys

with bloodied centuries-old houses anywhere,

the cobblestones echoing from your footsteps,

the mottled benches in the park

where we sat together?

You eat the specialties

of the most famous cuisines in the world,

but nothing smells

like hot pie in a casserole.

You push the plate away.

You sigh.

Why- no one asks anymore.

The engine is humming,

calling you to move on,

in search without end.

When will you hear a familiar voice?

Are your buddies waiting for you anywhere?

In your wanderings

there is no city

where your soul remains,

no place where you and I loved each other,

a place that calls and connects us.

And while coffee is being smoked from the cup,

fragrant and hot,

you know,

your heart is home to the city

where you left your youthful hopes.

You hum "Little Alley"

as you suffocate in tears.

 

USPOMENA JOŠ ŽIVA

 

Zove te nepoznata cesta,

od zemlje do zemlje,

od mjesta do mjesta.

Koliko si uzdaha

ostavio na tim kejovima,

koliko suza

pustio na tim mostovima,

dok lutaš svijetom

tražeći svoje mjesto,

mjesto slično onom

koje si davno ostavio za sobom?

Misliš da si ga napustio,

al' ono luta s tobom.

Diviš se prirodnim čudima,

šumama, liticama,

zalascima sunca

iza planinskih masiva,

odsjaju neba

na najljepšim slapovima.

A mira ti ne da

uspomena još živa!

Svega toga nema

u gradu tvoje mladosti.

I diviš se tim ljepotama,

nakratko,

onda pališ motor

i nastavljaš putovanje

bez imalo radosti.

Ima li igdje onih sokaka

sa nakrvljenim stoljetnim kućama,

kaldrme koja odzvanja od tvojih koraka,

u parku išaranih klupa

na kojima smo sjedili skupa?

Jedeš specijalitete

najslavnijih kuhinja svijeta,

ali ništa ne zamiriše

kao vrela u tepsiji pita.

Odgurneš tanjir.

Uzdahneš.

Zašto- niko više i ne pita.

Motor bruji,

zove te da ideš dalje,

u potragu bez kraja.

Kad ćeš čut poznat glas?

Čeka li te igdje tvoja raja?

U tvojim lutanjima nema grada

u kom ti duša ostade,

mjesta gdje voljeli smo se ti i ja,

mjesta koje nas zove i spaja.

I dok se iz šolje puši kafa,

mirisna i vruća,

znaš,

gradu u kojem si ostavio

svoje mladalačke nade,

tvoje srce je kuća.

''Malenim sokakom'' pjevušiš

dok se u suzama gušiš.

 

SELMA KOPIĆ

 

SELMA KOPIĆ is a professor of Bosnian language and literature, born in 1962 in Tuzla, Bosnia and Herzegovina. She is the author of two textbooks and one workbook for primary school. She has worked and is working as a coach, reviewer, proof-reader ...She is the winner of the award Best Teacher of the Former Yugoslavia, Association of Best Teachers EX YU, 2022. Her stories and poems have been awarded and entered anthologies in BiH and around the world.