translated from the Croatian by Nina Bajsić
You don’t think about poetry then
or about great deeds
or about politics
you don’t defy God.
you are as small as a pea
as you wait for the pain
to go away.
When you’re riddled with shrapnel
from a mortar grenade
you don’t think about the effect
you have on women
or about the national anthem.
you crawl under a rock
as you wait for the pain
to go away.
When the prison door
bangs shut behind your back—
that’s when you think about freedom.
Kada se lupiš sa sjekirom po nozidok cijepaš drva
onda ne misliš na poeziju
ili na velika djela
ili na politiku
ne prkosiš Bogu
malen su kao zrno graška
dok čekaš da bol
prestane.
Kada te izbuše geleri
od minobacačke granate
onda ne razmišljaš o dojmu
koji ostavljaš na žene
ili o nacionalnoj himni
zavučeš se pod kamen
i čekaš da bol prestane.
Kada se za tobom zatvore
vrata istražnog zatvora
onda misliš o slobodi.
Copyright © 2025 by Tomica Bajsić. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on September 4, 2025, by the Academy of American Poets.