Vesna Cvjetićanin was born in Yugoslavia in the 1960s and never imagined leaving it. However, in the early 1990s, she found herself moving to Australia with her young family, and has been living in Canberra ever since. A lawyer and public servant by profession, Vesna is now retired, and spends her time writing poetry, running two radio shows on Canberra’s 2XX FM (Multicultural Voices of the ACT, and Srbija u Mom Srcu (Serbia in my Heart)), and spending time with her children and grandchildren – not to mention her dear pup, Rikki the Whippet.
This poem is presented in Serbian, and is accompanied by an English description (below) kindly provided by Vesna.
This poem is about the feelings of longing I have when I think of my hometown, Sombor. It talks about some special things that I see and hear when I close my eyes: I miss the sound of church bells from the Town cathedrals, the old facades, the parks, the untidy streets paved by wobbly bricks, the vast greenery, freshly mowed grass; I miss the rich, deep mud from my town’s fields that gets all mushy and gooey after the balmy summer rains… I can smell the aroma of the traditional food cooked only in Sombor, and think of warm summer lazy afternoons in which we would have a long lunch; after it, we would be so full that the only thing we could do was to lie in the grass in the backyard and watch the sky, the clouds and think all of this will stay and be forever… forever.
Nedostajanja / Longing
Nedostaje mi zvon
Sa tornjeva crkava
Moga grada.
I nedostaju mi
Klimave cigle
Ispod kojih će prsnuti
Blatnjava voda
Ako ne paziš
Kako na njih staneš
Nesigurnom nogom.
Nedostaje mi
Gacanje po masnom blatu
Posle tople letnje kiše
Kada istrčim na ulicu
Pa osetim to crno testo
Medju prstima:
Neopisiv doživljaj!
I isto mi tako
Nedostaje zadah zemlje i memle
Koji me zapahne
Iz onih malih, tamnih
Četvrtastih otvora
Na fasadama kuća, uz trotoar,
Kroz koje nikada nikoga
Nisam videla
I kroz koje sunce nikada nije zavirilo.
Nedostaje mi to obično,
Somborsko letnje popodne
U kome čovek ne može
Ništa da radi
Od sparine i vrućine,
I od slatkog umora
Posle tanjira paradajz-čorbe,
Crvenog nasuva s krompirom
I velikog komada lubenice, s debelom crnom korom,
Koju oglobaš
Sve do belog,
Dok skoro ne pukneš,
Pa legneš u dvorište, na travu,
Gledaš oblake
I misliš
Takav će ti biti
Svaki letnji dan od podne… zauvek.
© Vesna Cvjetićanin, 2019
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