Dog - Boris Maruna

In the bare mountains between Marbella and Ronda

That pitilessly recall our native Velebit

That could be Velebit

But aren’t Velebit

Just as I could be God

But am not God

– To tell you the truth

Surrounded by the mules of this world

I can hardly manage to be half a man

In those mountains then

Me and my elder brother Pero

with our respective spouses –

Met a dog

Whose whole left side

Had been torn open by a car:

We could clearly see his stove-in ribs

The black hole behind his shoulder blade

His guts swarming with flies.

We slowed down as if we’d come upon a funeral

The dog too stopped for a moment

He turned his head as far as he could

Or as far as he wanted to

To look at us dispassionately out of the corner

Of his eye and as if with some hope

And some purpose greater than reason

Went on his way over the burning cobbles

In the direction of the sea and death

Perhaps he was going back to die

In his native village?

Perhaps, being a dog he was looking for his master?

Perhaps he had in mind the final aim

Of a dog’s life, or that

He might be a perfect dog

Just as I might be a perfect god

Whereas both of us in our own way

Were really only corpses in motion

In any case

What would you have done

In his place?

Imagine your message to the young!

As far as anything at all survived

In the dog’s glazed eyes

There was only the frightening awareness

That his native village was far away

And the worst was yet to come

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Boris Maruna (1940 - 2007) Croatia

Translated by Bernard Johnson

Source: UniVerse