Hands speak.. Selma Kopic

 

Into a willless lifeless body,
which is neither black nor white,
into the veins that they can't find,
inject blood that means life.
For the first time,
under the neon lamp,
I can clearly see these hands
living on that yellowish body.
They are traitors,
I'm ashamed of such hands.
They are worse than the mirrors
that maps the face.
This web of swollen veins
- these are hands of an old lady:
swollen joints,
a million tiny furrows
and pallor.
Drop by drop
the blood that life means,
injected into the veins
which they cannot find.
Those pale veins are
a slap in the face.
Included infusion
- broken illusion.
Although the face
has no wrinkles,
hands speak,
hands speak!

Ruke govore

U bezvoljno beživotno tijelo,
koje nije ni crno ni bijelo,
u vene koje ne mogu naći,
ubrizgavaju krv koja život znači.
Ove ruke koje žive
na tom tijelu boje žutosive,
pod neonskom lampom
prvi put jasno vidim.
One su izdajice,
ja se takvih ruku stidim.
Gore su od ogledala
koje oslikava lice.
Ta mreža nabreklih žila
- to su ruke neke starice:
otečeni zglobovi,
milion sitnih brazdi
i bljedilo.
Kap po kap
krv koja život znači,
ubrizgavaju u vene
koje ne mogu naći.
Te blijede žilice
šamar su u lice.
Uključena infuzija
- razbijena iluzija.
Iako lice nema bore,
ruke govore,
ruke govore!