Plaža pored bolnice7. međunarodni festival suvremene poezije

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Beach by the Hospital7th International Festival of Contemporary Poetry

publisherBrutal - Association for the promotion of culture and arts

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editor

proof-reading and line editing

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prepress and cover

print

published

(www.brutal.hr)

Silvestar Vrljić

Silvestar Vrljić

Serena Todesco, Silvestar Vrljić

Inter nos d.o.o., Zagreb

2012.

Željka Černok, Romana Perečinec, Serena Todesco

Lena Telenta

Autor fotografije na naslovnici: Silvestar Vrljić

Zagreb, 2012.

Plaža pored bolnice

Beach by the Hospital

7. međunarodni festival suvremene poezije 7th International Festival of Contemporary Poetry

Silvestar Vrljić

Sonja Harter

Bosse Hellsten

Davor Mandić

Pedro Sena-Lino

Tom Van De Voorde

Martina Vidaić

Sadržaj Contents

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Predgovor Foreword

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Predgovor

Međunarodni festival suvremene poezije doživljava svoje sedmo izda-nje, kojim se ova manifestacija pretvara iz upornog godišnjeg odbijanja da se prilagodimo situaciji u kojoj raditi pjesnički festival možda doista graniči s ludilom, u ozbiljnu tradiciju koja i nas u Brutalu pomalo plaši. Da, ta nas tradicija plaši, možda više nego majanska proročanstva o kraju svijeta, koji bi mogao lako pasti u vrijeme festivala.

Možda je to stvarno kraj. Šest divnih pjesnika čitat će vam tri dana svoje pjesme, dok se svijet bude raspadao pred našim očima, pa svi sa zatvaranja festivala možemo otići ravno u nebo na neki happy hour, ili gdje god u takvom trenutku odlaze pjesnici i njihova publika.

Ako kraja i ne bude i pokaže se da je netko sve skupa krivo izračunao, nećemo se osjećati glupo. Uživat ćemo u odličnoj poeziji, dobro se pro-vesti, pročitati ovu knjigu od korica do korica i zauvijek to pamtiti. Sto-ga obucite svoju najbolju robu, operite kosu, oprostite se od bližnjih, dođite i budite dio nečega velikog.

Silvestar Vrljić

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Foreword

The International Festival of contemporary Poetry has come to its seventh edition, through which our persistent annual refusal to adapt to a situation where to make a poetry festival maybe does border with madness, has turned into a serious tradition that scares a bit even us in Brutal. Yes, that tradition scares us, maybe even more than Mayan prophecies about the end of the world, which could easily occur during the time of the festival.

Perhaps it really is the end. For three days, six wonderful poets will read their poems for you, while the world collapses before your eyes, so that, directly from the closure of the festival, we can all go to heaven, to some happy hour, or wherever poets and their audience go on such a moment.

even if the end does not occur, and it turns out that someone has miscalculated the whole of it, we shall not feel stupid. We shall enjoy excellent poetry, have a good time, read this book from its front to its back cover, and remember all this forever. Thus, put your best clothes on, wash your hair, say goodbye to your close ones and become part of something big.

Silvestar Vrljić

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SonjAHaRteR

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Sonja Harter was born in Graz (Austria) in 1983. She has pub-lished two poetry collections: barfuß richtung festland (barefoot towards mainland) in 2005 and einstichspuren, himmel (stabing marks, heaven) in 2008. She has published poetry in various magazines such as manuskripte and lichtungen and in several an-thologies such as Lyrik von Jetzt 2 or Jahrbuch der Lyrik in Germany. Her poems have been translat-ed into French, Italian, Spanish, Polish an croatian. Sonja Har-ter lives as a journalist in Vienna where she also studied German Literature and Linguistics.

Sonja Harter rođena je u Grazu (Austrija) 1983. godine. objavila je dvije zbirke pjesama: barfuß richtung festland (bosonoga pre-ma kopnu) 2005. i einstichspuren, himmel (ubodni tragovi, nebo) 2008. godine. Poeziju je objavlji-vala u raznim časopisima poput manuskripte i lichtungen te u ne-koliko antologija poput Lyrik von Jetzt 2 ili Jahrbuch der Lyrik u nje-mačkoj. Pjesme su joj prevede-ne na francuski, talijanski, špa-njolski, poljski i hrvatski jezik. Sonja Harter živi kao novinar u Beču, gdje je studirala njemač-ku književnost i lingvistiku.

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zrnato, šumno:tvoja mi slika (centimetar po centimetar)pada u širom otvoreno lice.

ne mogu čekanje odbrojati na jednoj ruci,i crno-bijelenoći.

dešifriram svaki pokret,tvoja slika, zrnata,do posljednjeg trenutka,

mogu odbrojati prste,noći bijele,

imaš kožu, nosi: nemoguću kosu.

Prijevod s njemačkog: Romana Perečinec

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SonjAHaRteR

grainy, hissing:your picture falls(centimeter by centimeter)in my wide open face.

I can’t count the waitingon one hand,black and whitethe nights.

I’m decoding every move,your picture, grainy,up to the last moment,

I can count the fingersthe nights white,

you have skin,nose, and: impossible hair.

Translation from German: Sonja Harter

BoSSeHellSteN

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Bosse Hellsten rođen je 1978. godine u Kokkoli (Finska), gra-du teške industrije i nogometa. Bio je golman za GBK i radio je u tvornicama. Studirao je filozofi-ju, pa se zaposlio kao vožač, za-tim novinar, pa kao vratar kafi-ća. neko je vrijeme također bio nezaposlen i živio na zatvore-noj željezničkoj stanici negdje usred Finske. Tamo je napisao i svoju zadnju knjigu. Sada živi i piše u Helsinkiju i ima dvoje dje-ce. napisao je dvije zbirke pje-sama Tango för babianer (Tango za pavijane) 2005. i Solen dånar på (Veliko tvrdo sunce) 2011. go-dine. Piše i kratke priče, a poezi-ju je objavio u raznim antologi-jama i časopisima.

Bosse Hellsten was born in 1978 in Kokkola (Finland), a town of heavy industry and football. He played football as a goalkeeper for GBK and worked at the fac-tories. He studied philosophy and then went on to work as a driver, a journalist and a door-man in a bar. For some time he was also unemployed and lived at a closed-down railway station somewhere in the middle of Fin-land. He wrote his latest book there. now he lives and writes in Helsinki and has two chil-dren. He has written two poetry books: Tango för babianer (Tango for Babboons) in 2005 and Solen dånar på (Big Hard Sun) in 2011. He also writes short stories and published poetry in various an-thologies and magazines.

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Stari pavijan

Stari pavijangleda zalazak suncasa sjetomsamo jedan života ondanikada nikada više.

Čitam ove retkei imam razna pitanjanpr. tko ih je napisao.

jedina ovdjekoja zna švedskije eijaa ona je mrtva.

Prijevod sa švedskog: Željka Černok

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the old babboon

The old babboonwatches the sunsetwith melancholyonly one lifeand thennever never again. I read these linesand various questionspresent themselves:for example, who wrote them?

The only one herewho speaks Swedishis eijabut she is dead.

BoSSeHellSteN

Translation from Swedish: Željka Černok

DAVoRMaNDiĆ

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Davor Mandić was born in 1976 in Pula (croatia), where he ob-tained a degree in croatian lan-guage and literature at the Fac-ulty of Philosophy. He is a poetry editor for the magazine Re. He has published a poetry collec-tion entitled Mostovi (The Bridg-es, croatian Writers Association, 2009). He writes short stories, poetry, essays and criticism.

Davor Mandić rođen je 1976. go-dine u Puli, gdje je završio studij hrvatskog jezika i književnosti na Filozofskom fakultetu. Urednik je poezije u časopisu Re. objavio je zbirku pjesama Mostovi (Hr-vatsko društvo pisaca, 2009.). Piše kratke priče, poeziju, eseje i kritike.

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DAVoRMaNDiĆ

***

Zašiljio sam kičmus jasnom željom danapišem nemogućeje ne primijetiti lopoče štorastu prema doljeTarzan je doduše paos lijanei slomio nogupa kako to da si tako slijeppored 10 prstijusrsi bi me prošli kada bihimao čime to napisati

sutradan je bio novisutrašnji dan na novom radnom mjestukonačno samu pauzi za kavunašiljio jedan prst i njimemalo po malopočeo kopati tunelu slobodu.

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***

I acuminated my spine with a clear desire to write the impossible is not to notice the nenuphars that grow downwards however Tarzan fell from liana and broke a leg so how come you’re so blind when you have 10 fingers I would get the chills if I would have anything to write it with

tomorrow was a new day to come in a new working place finally on a coffee break I sharpened one finger and with it little by little started digging a tunnel to freedom.

PeDRoSeNa-liNo

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Pedro Sena-lino was born in Lisbon (Portugal) in 1977. cur-rent job: chasing dead nuns (finishing a Phd on Feliciana de Milão, a 17th century Portu-guese female religious author, and researching in the Portu-guese Women Writers’ project, which is undergoing a database of all portuguese female writers before 1900). He has published six poetry books, and is trans-lated in english, French, Ger-man, croatian and japanese. He has published the historical novel 333, and children’s books on Portuguese legends. He is a researcher and a teacher of creative writing, has founded a school, Companhia do Eu, and has published three textbooks on the subject.

Pedro Sena-lino rođen je 1977. godine u Lisabonu (Portugal). Trenutno radi: naganja mrtve časne (završava postdiplom-ski studij na temu Feliciana de Milão, portugalska religiozna autorica iz 17. stoljeća, i radi istraživanje za projekt Portu-galske spisateljice, koji je u pro-cesu stvaranja baze podataka svih portugalskih spisateljica do 1900. godine). objavio je šest zbirki pjesama, a prevođen je na engleski, francuski, njemački, hrvatski i japanski. objavio je povijesni roman 333 i dječje knji-ge portugalskih legendi. Istraži-vač je i predavač kreativnog pi-sanja, kojega je osnovao i školu, Companhia do Eu, te je objavio tri udžbenika na tu temu.

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[podes levar os dias que trouxeste]

podes levar os dias que trouxesteos pássaros soterraram agostoe sem lugar um homem cega pela janelao mar que jura ter tocado com o sangue

podia ter sido o amor se não tivesse vindotão directamente da sedeum duplo rosto de enganos e os braçosque saíram desertoso eco da morte reverbera na pelecom que vejo a tua ausência encher as ruasum choro de papel cai pela terrae nunca foi tão tarde ser depois

daqui onde o grito surdo incendeiaa refutação da madrugadadonde o crânio esmaga o coraçãoum homem corta pela janelaa própria certeza de ter sido

não é tarde demais para uma manhãque foi a enterrar em tantas noites

as escadas morreram de sedea terra caiu em nunca

podes levar os dias que trouxeste

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[možeš odnijeti dane koje si donio]

možeš odnijeti dane koje si donio ptice su zakopale kolovoza čovjek bez mjesta kroz prozor osljepljuje more i kune se da ga je dodirnuo krvlju

mogla je to biti ljubav da nije došla tako izravno iz žeđi dvostruko lice varke i ruke što su postale pustinje odjek smrti razliježe se kožom njime gledam kako tvoje odsuće ispunjava ulice papirnate suze padaju po zemlji i nikada ne bješe tako kasno biti poslije

ovoga ovdje gdje prigušen krik pali dokidanje svanuća gdje lubanja gnječi srce čovjek prozorom presijecavlastitu izvjesnost da je bio

ne prekasno je za jutro koje se pokopalo u tolikim noćima

stube su umrle od žeđi zemlja je upala u nikada

možeš odnijeti dane koje si donio

PeDRoSeNa-liNo

ToMVaN De VooRDe

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tom Van De Voorde was born in 1974 in Ghent (Belgium). In 2008 he has published his first collec-tion of poetry with contempo-rary landscape poems. The book was nominated for the c. Bud-dingh-prize for the best poetry debute. In his current work he tries to find an answer on politi-cal and economical issues. In his essays he writes about califor-nia, Arcadia, eternal youth, Ma-donna, folk music and American communists. In recent years he has been translating the poetry of American poets such as Wal-lace Stevens and Michael Palm-er. Until recently he was the Belgian editor of Lyrikline.org and Poetry International Web. He currently works as a curator for the literature programs at the centre of Fine Arts Bozar in Brussels.

tom Van De Voorde rođen je 1974. godine u Ghentu (Belgija). 2008. objavio je svoju prvu zbir-ku suvremenih pejzažnih pjesa-ma. Knjiga je bila nominirana za nagradu c. Buddingh kao najbo-lji pjesnički prvijenac. U svojim najnovijim radovima pokušava naći odgovor na politička i eko-nomska pitanja. U svojim ese-jima piše o Kaliforniji, Arkadiji, vječnoj mladosti, Madonni, folk glazbi i američkim komunistima. Zadnjih je godina prevodio po-eziju američkih pjesnika poput Wallacea Stevensa i Michaela Palmera. Do nedavno bio je bel-gijski urednik Lyrikline.org-a i Poetry International Web-a. Tre-nutno radi kao kustos književnih programa u centre of Fine Arts Bozar u Briselu.

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***

een goudzoeker legt me uitwaaraan je een trap herkent, spelt

me de naam van een bergdorp,in de vorige eeuw nog vakantieoord,

dat vol onzekere steigers zou liggen.Zodra ik dat laatste begrepen heb,

scheert ze zich kaal, een beetje maar, linksboven

haar voorhoofd, springt op een vlot waarvan het bouwjaar onbekend is.

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***

Kopač zlata mi objašnjavapo čemu prepoznati stepenice, slovka

mi ime planinskog sela,u prošlom stoljeću još mjesto za odmor,

navodno puno nesigurnih pristaništa.Čim sam shvatio ovo zadnje,

ona se obrije,tek malo, lijevo

iznad čela, skoči na splavnepoznate godine izgradnje.

MARTInAViDaiĆ

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Martina Vidaić rođena je 1986. godine u Zadru, gdje je završila osnovnu školu, opću gimnaziju i studij kroatistike na Filozof-skom fakultetu. 2011. godine dobila nagradu Goran namije-njenu mladim pjesnicima, po-vodom čega joj je krajem godine objavljena prva zbirka poezije pod naslovom Era gmazova. Iste je godine sudjelovala na make-donskom međunarodnom festi-valu Struške večeri poezije. Izbore pjesama objavila je u Quorumu i Zadarskoj smotri. Živi u Zadru.

Martina Vidaić was born in 1986 in Zadar (croatia), where she finished both elementary and high school and studied croatian language and litera-ture at the Faculty of Philoso-phy. In 2011 she was awarded with Goran award for young poets, thanks to which she published her first poetry col-lection Era gmazova (The era of Reptiles). In the same year she took part in the Macedonian International Festival Struške večeri poezije (Struga Poetry evenings). Selection of her po-etry were published in croatian magazines Quorum and Zadar-ska smotra. She lives in Zadar.

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Plaža pored bolnice

ti postojiš radi bolnica,kao šuplje knjige radi eksponatog regala.kuhinje se ukrašavaju plastičnim voćem,kirurzi se ukrašavaju krvlju.

vlastito se tkivo urotilo protiv tebe.pobunu su postavili na pladanj,okruglu i konačnu kao osvojenu medalju.zasluženo,trčala si i stigla prva.

zatim si se izmorena ispružila na plaži.turistice su izazivački izložile sise,svaka je imala najmanje dvije.more nije ostavilo mjesta mrtvima za stolom,odmah je popunilo rupu,jednako stojeći na usluzi, bolničarski dobrodušno, neosjetljivokao poezija.

MARTInAViDaiĆ

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Translation into english: iskra Pavlović

Beach by the Hospital

you exist because of hospitals,like hollow books for unite furniture in a showroom.kitchens are decorated with plastic fruits,surgeons are decorated with blood.

your own tissue has conspired against you.the revolt was put on a platter,round and final like a medal won.well-deserved,you ran and came first.

then you, tired, stretched on the beach.women tourists provokingly displayed their tits,each had two at least.sea left no room for the dead at the table,it immediately filled the hole,equally at the service,sick-nursing kind-heartedly, unfeelinglike poetry.

7. međunarodni festival suvremene poezije organiziran je uz potporu:

7th International Festival of contemporary Poetry was organised with the support of:

Medijski pokrovitelj: Media coverage:

www.mvinfo.hr