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Jutro je, a čitaocu je već dosadno. Godunovich oseća zimsku  svežinu  oblačnog jutra, a čitaocu je tek dosadno. Kroz oblake probija se zubato  sunce nagoveštavajući izgled novog dana, a čitaocu je dosadno da dosadnije ne može biti. Ali može: Godunovich ustaje zagledan u jutro kao u pun tanjir nepoznate hrane.

 

 

 

 

It is morning and the reader is already bored. Godunovich feels the winter freshness of a cloudy morning and the reader is even more bored. The feeble sun is looming amid the clouds, anticipating the chances of a new day and he is as bored as he could ever be. But he is:  Godunovich stands up gazing into the morning as if he were gazing at a plateful of strange food.

 

 

 

 

 

Stoga, vi ovde, vi onde, pogledajte, evo Godunovicha, to je  činjenica, to je factum[1], jedna datost, jedan actus[2], jedno pojavljivanje, jedna emanacija, uozbiljite se, evo Godunovicha – dolazi. A kad dolazi, to znači da će doći i ovde biti, sve dok odavde ne bude otišao.

 

 

 

 

 

 Therefore, you here, you there, look: Godunovich is here, it’s a fact, a factum[3], a presence, an actus[4], an occurrence, a phenomenon, an emanation, be serious, Godunovich is coming. As he is coming, it means he will come and be here until from here he leaves.

 

 

 

 

 

Kada dolazi, zima je i Godunovich je do kolena u snegu. Nije mu hladno, samo sluti da je kraj puta blizu, možda tamo, iza onih prozora, u onoj prostoriji punoj veselih ljudi, kada bolje pogleda, zacelo, veoma ukočenih. I onda, odnos se menja: Godunovich, koji bi zbog hladnoće, zbog mraza, zbog snega morao biti ukočen – to nije, a veseli ljudi, tamo, u toplom, iza prozora – to jesu. Tada Godunovich, još gazeći po dubokom snegu, pušta zvuk i začas stvara takozvanu nečujnu zimsku pesmu, zatim kuca u prozor a veselo-ukočeni ljudi u čudu gledaju napolje, u belinu, i čini se ne vide ništa, izuzev što, možda, čuju Godunovichevu nečujnu zimsku pesmu i udaranje kažiprstom o staklo u veselom ritmu.

 

 




When Godunovich comes, it is autumn and he is up to his knees in grass. He is not cold, he just presumes that the end of the road is near, perhaps there, behind those windows, in that room full of jolly people who, when he takes another look, certainly, are very stiff. And then, the tables are turned: Godunovich, who should have been stiff, considering the cold, the rain, was not stiff, while the jolly people, there, in the warm, behind their windows, were. That‘s when Godunovich, treading in the deep grass, lets loose a sound and in an instant creates a so-called silent autumn song, then knocks at the window while the jolly stiff people stare outside in wonder, into the darkness, and it seems, don’t see anything, except perhaps, they hear Godunovich’s silent autumn song and forefinger knocking on the glass in a jolly good rhythm.

 

 

 

 

 

A kada pokuca na staklo, Godunovich osluškuje. I mogao bi on i beskonačno osluški-vati a da ništa ne čuje, jer kada Godunovich zakuca, po pravilu odziva nema. Nema odziva na Godunovichevo kucanje, reklo bi se bolje – kuckanje, jer Godunovich ne ume ni valjano zakucati, a kamoli lupiti. Težak slučaj samoporicanja – to je Godunovich. Hteo bi da ga čuju, a opet, ne ume se ni oglasiti. Ili tačnije, kada se oglasi – on to čini gotovo izvinjavajući se, on to čini gotovo izvinjavajući se. Sam je Godunovich, valjalo bi da barem kašljucne, da barem nečim oglasi da je tu, da je prisutan. Hoće li oni, mogu li oni, pita se Godunovich, oprostiti što se oglašavam, što sam ovako upao, što sam prisutan, što i ja nešto želim, što i ja nešto hoću, što ih gledam i što me gledaju, što im govorim dok me slušaju?

 

 

 

 

 

To što sam živ već je dovoljan razlog što se smem oglasiti, što se uopšte oglašavam, kuraži sebe Godunovich.

 

 

 

 

Having knocked on the glass, Godunovich stands listening attentivily. He could have listened attentivily forever without hearing anything, because when he knocks, as a rule, there is no answer. There was no reply to Godunovich’s knocking, better to say ticking, because Godunovich doesn’t know how to knock even less how to bang. A hard case of self-denial – that is Godunovich. He is eager to be heard and yet he does not know how to let loose a sound. In fact, when he lets loose a sound he does so almost apologetically, he does it apologizing. All alone is Godunovich, it would be good for him to cough if nothing else, to announce that he is here at least, present. Will they, could they, Godunovich is asking himself, forgive my announcing, my intruding, my presence, the fact that I wish something too, that I want something too, that I look at them, that they look at me, that I talk while they listen?

 

 

 

The fact that I am alive is already reason enough for me to dare let my presence be known, that I let my presence be known at all, Godunovich eggs himself on.

 

 

 


Dolazeći, Godunovich već broji svoje dane. Prolazni On, ali zašto On, mogao bi bez mnogo razlike biti i Ona. Propadljiva Ona, ali zašto Ona, mogao bi bez mnogo razlike biti i On. Određenje Godunovicha u polu je unajmanje glupo. Od sada, stoga, treba nastojati da se Godunovich posmatra u dvoznačnosti njegove polnosti. Nije da Godunovichu nedostaju atributi muškosti. Dapače. Nije da Godunovichu nedostaju atributi ženskosti. Dapače. No zasigurno da oni ne mogu odrediti Godunovichev ljudski lik, čije obrise krase kako muževna brada, oči divljega seva, čelo kao vatrama paljeno, tako i dražesni uvojci, pune usnice, trepavice – krila lastavice.

Vitlajući virilnim Godunovichem, vetar mu spolja čini uvojke zanosnim.

Ko može odoleti Godunovichu?

 

 

 

 

 

Coming, Godunovich counts his days already. Ephemeral He, but why He, without much difference He could be She. Ephemeral She, but why She, without much difference She could be He. Defining Godunovich by gender is at least imprudent. For that matter, from now on Godunovich shall be viewed in his sexual ambiguity. It is not that he is lacking any of the attributes of masculinity – on the contrary. It is not that he is lacking attributes of femininity - on the contrary. However, it is evident that they cannot discern his human shape whose contours are adorned by a masculine chin, a wild flashing eye and a forhead burnt by flames, as well as attractive curls, full lips, eyelashes – the wings of a swallow.

Blowing inside the virile Godunovich, the wind makes his curls so captivating on the outside.

Who could resist Godunovich?

 

 

 

 

 

Kada Godunovich dolazi, onda to izgleda ovako. Hodam u svojim odgovarajućim cipelama, (sense of the appropriate[5] je ono što krasi Godunovicha), odgovarajućim ulicama, u odgovarajućem ritmu, prema odgovarajućem cilju, kaže Godunovich. Tako dolično, podesno uspostavljen u primerenosti, prikladnosti, svrhovitosti, Godunovich se odista doima kao gospodin. I upravo tada, dok u njemu odzvanjaju zvonki uvidi poput gornjeg, u glavi g. Godunovicha naporedo se rađa predstava jednog starog grada tihih ulica, negovanih bašta i odmerenih koraka, trajnih i dubokih prijateljstava, secesijskih kovina, gvozdenih okova i hrastovih vrata, večernjih promenada duž Ulice Miloša Velikog od “Londona” do Akademije, Artiljerijske škole, preko Finansijskog parka i nazad.

 

 

 

 

 

When Godunovich comes then, it is like this. I am walking in my appropriate shoes (osećaj za prikladno[6] is what distinguishes Godunovich), through appropriate streets, in the appropriate rhythm, to the appropriate end, says Godunovich. So naturally, so adequately grounded in propriety, aptness and purpose, Godunovich really looks like a gentleman. And that's when, while sonorous insights were still resonating in him, Mr Godunovich spots an old city of peaceful streets, cultivated gardens and measured footsteps, lasting and deep friendships, panel tracery, wrought-iron balustrades and door-cases with scallop-shell canopies, evening promenades along the Berkeley Street and Picadilly, from Lansdowne House to the Green Park old fountain, and back.

 

 

 

 

 

Godunovich: Dobro jutro, gospodine.

Gospodin: Dobro jutro, g. Godunovichu.

 

 

 

 

 

Godunovich: Good morning, Sir.

Sir: Good morning, Mr Godunovich.

 

 

 

 

 

Kada dolazi, Godunovich to čini tako što se naprosto prizemljuje nasred žitnoga polja. Vreme je velikog prinosa te on, aterirajući, pada kao što se iz šale pada u plast sena. Otresavši trunke cerealija s rukava, izišav na tipično srpski drum sa obližnjim mostom preko kojeg se, prešav, naplaćuje na ćupriji, Godunovich sreće reprezentativnog ali slučajnog žitelja i nenadano ga pita:

 

Comment prolonger la jeunesse?[7]

To je filosofsko, odveć duboko pitanje, odgovara uzorkovani i nastavlja koliko pobratimski, toliko i posestrimski: Pogledaj mene, pogledaj samo mene, bre! kako izgledam mlad!

Godunovich, koga je postavljeno pitanje više nego mučilo, malo se odalji, dobro ga osmotri i pomisli: nažalost, ovaj siroti tridesetogodišnjak ima izgled šezdesetogodišnjaka, možda bi mu pomogao le traitement hormonal substitutif[8]?

Vređaš me, uzvraća parapsihološki obdareni Žitelj, čitatelj tuđih misli i zlih jezika, i da sam isprobao te mrske belosveštine opet bih ovako mladoliko izgledao!

Ali ne izgledaš, nije se zbunio Godunovich, štaviše dreknuo je taj estetično-pravični sagovornik: Starac si a nemaš ni tri’es’ ljeta!

Starac sam, od hiljadu ljeta, rekao je ponosito Srbin.

Je ne sais que dire,[9] rekao je za sebe Godunovich i krenuo dalje.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When he comes, Godunovich arrives as if he were landing in the middle of a pasture. This is the grazing time, so he, landing, falls as someone fooling around would fall on a flock of sheep. Brushing off traces of wool from his sleeve, he comes onto a typical masonry brigde in the picturesque English countryside. There, Godunovich meets a representative but random specimen of the locals whom he unexpectedly asks:

Good day, sir. Excuse me. Can I ask you where is the main road?

Good day. Main road? replied the querried.

Yes.

Oh, well, said the Local not moving his stiff upper lip. That is a philosophical, utterly profound question, and he proceeds deepening his voice: It is not always easy to know which road is the main road.

This emphasis bothered Godunovich unimaginably so he stepped back a little and replied, more to himself:

Where I come from you never know, that is for sure. But here...

Of course, of course we know here, responded already distrustful Local, if you’ve seen what I have seen, my father, my grandfather, my great-grandfather, you’d always know which road to take.

I bet you do, the ethically correct converser Godunovich even yelled: Thats why I came here, among other things...

Fine, really. And what is your buisiness here, if I may ask? interrupted the Englishman.

Godunovich looked at him for a moment then as if he spotted a distant sign on the horizon slowly went away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kada se pojavi, Godunovich to čini u odelu od presovane zečje dlake, pantalonama sa svilenom postavom u predelu kolena, prugastom košuljom sa ruskom kragnom i uskim trakama od satena oko zglobova. Godunovich tada ima cipele s debelim đonom, vodootporne i teške poput vojničkih. Godunovich tada ima kosu začešljanu unazad, teme natopljeno AD kapima i trendi bradu, nikad simetričnih krajeva. Godunovich ima pogled odsutnog, katkad lutajući, katkad užaren, ali, uglavnom, pogled očajnika u bezumnoj slepoj povorci što vuče ga kuda Godunovich ne želi ići. U toj istoj gomili, između brojnih glava oko kojih se, poput nakaradnih oreola, vidljivo roje misli o ugroženom Nacionu i Slavi ratnika koji će se suprostaviti Ostatku obnevidelog sveta, među njima lako, i dakako, prepoznajemo, isprva po odelu, po košulji, po cipelama, frizuri i pogledu, i, najposle, po jedinoj glavi bez oreola, osobu koja odgovara opisu, i zaključujemo, stoga, da je Godunovich njen deo, ma koliko mu odelo bilo filcano, ma koliko mu zglob bio obložen svilom, cipele vodootporne, brada asimetrična, pogled očajan, a glava bez oreola, bez ijedne misli o Ugroženosti, Slavi, Ostatku ili Svetu.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Godunovich appears, he does so in a pressed hare’s fur suit, in trousers with a knee-high silk lining, a striped shirt with a Russian collar and a narrow band of satin around the wrists. Then, Godunovich wears thick-soled shoes, which are waterproof and heavy like army boots. Then, Godunovich’s hair is combed up, the crown of his head soaked in AD Vitamin drops and he has a trendy beard with ends that are never symmetrical. Godunovich has an absent-minded stare, sometimes attentive, sometimes wondering, but mainly the stare of someone desperate, walking in a maddened blind procession dragging himself to where he did not want to go. In that same crowd, among many a head, around which swarm, like monstrous auras, fantasies of the Noble Nation and the Righteous Warrior who will enlighten the Rest of the unseeing World, among them we spot, easily, surely, firstly by his suit, shirt, shoes, hairdo and stare, at last, the only head without an aura, the person corresponding to the above description and we therefore conclude that Godunovich is the very part, no matter how pressed his suit, how silk-coated his wrist, water-resistant his shoes, asymmetrical his beard, desperate his stare, aura-less his head, without any ideas of Nobility, Righteousness, or the Rest of the World.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kada se pojavi, Godunovich pokušava da se ophodi, razmenjuje, prima i daje. Nažalost, u tom zanosu ophođenja, razmenjivanja, primanja i davanja nije Godunovich smotren niti mnogo razborit već srlja kako već srljati može onaj kome do tog zanosa uopšte nije stalo već to čini zato što se mora. A to što se mora, bar u Godunovicha, uvek je bilo najlakše svladati brz-inom, ostaviti za sobom ma koliko da je opasno pa ako treba i pogibeljno. Tako je Godunovich još od malena svoje krajnje strahove rešavao zalećući se pravo u njihov uzrok, kao onda kada se u roju dece pred operaciju krajnika iz gomile tanušno i soptavo javljao, a da ga niko ne čuje, sve propinjući se na prste: Mogu ja? Mogu ja prvi? znajući da je svako odlaganje samo osnaživanje strave koju valja prekratiti odlučnim rezom makar to bilo i u vlastitom grlu.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When he appears, Godunovich tries to behave, to exchange, to take and give. Enthusiastic over behaving, exchanging, taking and giving, unfortunately, Godunovich is not watchful nor sensible but runs rashly into it as would someone who’s not enthusiastic at all and because it’s a must to. The easiest way to what one must do, at least for Godunovich, was always by speed, regardless of how dangerous and perilous, or even deadly it could be. Therefore, from an early age, his ultimate fears Godunovich resolved by rushing right into their cause as he did once in the bunch of children before tonsil surgery, calling from the crowd with his tiny and wheezzing voice, nobody hearing him, all toes: Can I? Can I do it first? Knowing that every delay is nothing but the strenghtening of a horror that must be shortened by a resolute cut be it even inside his own throat.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kada prilazi, Godunovich prilazi tako naivno, tako bezrazložno nenaoružan, noseći aerosol umesto ubojitog oružja. Kada diše, Godunovich to čini plitko, nikako duboko, njegov udah je kratak, a izdisaj dug, praćen piskavim krkorom, te o njemu kruže glasine: Ja ću da Vam kažem šta je, spasmodično sužavanje vazdušnih puteva, ekspiratorna dispneja, teška insuficijencija ventilacije opstruktivnog tipa, eto šta je. Šiban kratkim udarcima smrti, Godunovich diše plitko, nikako duboko, ubrzano a hropko, reklo bi se, govori malo i krkori, znajući da opasnost dolazi pre iznutra negoli od spolja. Ohrabrujuće delovanje kortikoida značenjski je jednako učinku neprobojnog pancira, smatra Godunovich.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When approaching, Godunovich approaches so naively, so unreasonably credulous, carrying an asthmatic's pump instead of carrying a strong refugee claim supportive documents, for example. When breathing, Godunovich does so shallowly, not deeply, breathing in shortly and out slowly with the squeaking sounds of suffocation. This is rumoured to be as follows: I‘ll tell you what it is, a spasdic narrowing of the airway, an expiratory dyspnea, severely obstructed ventilation, that’s what it is. Whipped by short blows of death, Godunovich breathes shallowly, not deeply, quickly but gasping, one would say, he says little and croaks knowing that danger comes from the inside rather than from outside. The stimulating effect of corticosteroids is the semantic equivalent of a  granted refugee status, Godunovich believes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hodajući tako naivno goloruk, tako bezazleno, gotovo bezrazložno nenaoružan, noseći aerosol umesto ubojitog oružja, Godunovich se ispoveda potkazući samoga sebe. Ono u šta je Godunovich stupio i gde se sada nalazi jeste jedno zastrašujuće i veoma duboko vrenje u kome se dotiče stvarnost i svest Godunovicha sa stvarnošću i svešću njegovog naroda. Svest i stvarnost Godunovicha opire se emulaciji u svest i stvarnost njegovog naroda, u kojima, odista, misli Godunovich delom svoje neemulirane svesti, nestalo je mesta za žive ciljeve, razum i svrhoviti poredak. Kao kada se npr. odjednom uoči insekt kako plazi po sopstvenoj ruci ili npr. možda oseti miš kako sitno hodi po stomaku, mahnito i zgađen, Godunovich bi hteo da otrese sa sebe stvarnost i svest svoga naroda. Okrenut naličju nekadašnjeg nežigosanog i neizobličenog sveta, okrenut leđima svome narodu, Godunovich neće bežati, već možda samo npr., npr., recimo, prdnuti. Skromno dopunjavajući svog velikog učitelja, izjaviće:

Bilo veliki bilo mali ratovi, posledica su istorijskog proučavanja.

 

 

 

 

 

Walking so naively empty-handed and without valid documents, so harmlessly and even unreasonably credulous but carying an aerosol, Godunovich confesses, denounces himself. This where Godunovich is now, this where Godunovich had come to, this is a scary, very intense turmoil in which Godunovich’s reality and consciousness touch the reality and consciousness of this strange people. Godunovich’s reality and consciousness fight to be emulated by the reality, language and consciousness of this people in which, indeed, there is so much room for live ends, reason and purposeful order. Like one would want to get rid of an insect crawling up one’s arm or, for example, kill a mouse tiptoeing down one’s stomach, for example, so would Godunovich want to shake off the reality and consciousness, even the language of this people that is slowly getting under his skin. Facing the rear end of a once unstigmatized and undistorted world, turning back to this people, Godunovich will not escape, but maybe just for example, for example, let’s say, egest. Modestly complementing his great teacher’s thought, he’ll declare:

 

 

Bilo veliki bilo mali ratovi, posledica su istorijskog proučavanja.[10]

What language is it? a casual bypasser asks.

 Serbian, replies Godunovich.

 Sounds funny.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Opasno je uzdati se samo u svoju glavu, svoja pluća, svoju epifaniju, i hodati tako čist, goloruk a najpre tako bezazleno nenaoružan, uviđa Godunovich, tek što je stigao. Zato je možda najbolje da smesta nađem dobar i otporan gvozdeni, možda, pokrov, da se dobro obezbedim, da se, pre svega, sakrijem, možda ukopam, i vrata sa savršenim a prepredenim mehanizmom, i bravom, i dodatnim lancima, i polugom, i skrivenim alarmom, i malo hrane i vode da preživim, dok ne odahnem, dok se ne odmorim, dok ponovo, okrepljen, napolje ne izađem. I malo vazduha, ali njega ionako ne treba mnogo, i pumpicu, umalo da zaboravim, tek toliko da bi se plitko, da bi se kratko, da bi se hropko..., smatra Godunovich.

 

 

 

 

 

It is dangerous to rely only on your head, your lungs, your epiphany and walk so pure, so empty-handed, so credulous before everyone, realized Godunovich as soon as he came here. Perhaps it would be best to find immediately a good and resistant perhaps iron cover, to make myself secure well, first of all to hide, to bury myself, perhaps find a good door with a perfect but cunning mechanism, and a lock, and additional chains, and a safety bar, and a hidden alarm, and a little food and water to survive, until I recover my breath, until I rest, until again, revived, I come out. And a little air, and an inhaler, I almost forgot, just enough to shallowly, to shortly, to wheezily..., thinks Godunovich.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A kada pristane uz Obalu i iskrca se, shvata da tom zemljom besprekidno vrtloži bellum omnia contra omnes[11]. Svaka čast ratnici, kaže Godunovich, što brže dovršite pogrom, to ćete se pre vratiti naponu smisla i obnove, vedrome čelu i posleratnoj radosti masovne izgradnje. Sada, u gluvo doba noći, očekujući prve fijuke humanitarnih projektila pod zastavom demokratskog poretka i dešavanja slobode, jednostavnog i tzv. peace enforcement-a[12], Godunovich je već pokriven unapred pripremljenim pokrovom. Tako obezbeđen, tako zaštićen, Godunovich se jednostavno ne može plašiti smrti, ali ga đavolski plaši čak i pomisao na strašni smrad latrina a pogotovo mauvaise odeur[13] izuvene braće po etniji u kakvom konc-lageru ili pak samo – prihvatilištu.

 

 

Ništa me tako ne može uplašiti kao to, kao papak u mojoj blizini, u prihvatilištu, u lageru, kaže Godunovich i već zamišlja sebe kako leži na dasci, na malo buvljive slame, kako drhti od hladnoće i diše kroz maramicu, pritešnjen telima očajne i izgladnele svoje braće Srba.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On reaching the Shore and disembarking, he realizes that this country is continually whirling in bellum contra omnes[14]. All honour to you warriors, says Godunovich, the faster you perform the task of final execution in my country and others around the globe, the sooner you get back the tension of meaning and renewal, the sooner you’ll walk on air rejoicing at the massive post-war exploitation. But now, in the dead of the night, he is expecting the very first shrieks of humanitarian projectiles named after an imminent democracy and freedom, so simply called peace enforcement. He is here protected, shielded as anyone in diaspora ever can be, so it is unlikely for Godunovich to be afraid of death, but he is hellishly scared just thinking of the terrible stench of the latrines, particularly of the mauvaise odeur[15] of human flesh and the bare feet of his compatriots in some Konzentrationslager or penitentiary.

 

 

Nothing scares me as much as that, as all those interwoven hoofs, in a penitentiary, in the camp, says Godunovich imagining himself on the plank with just a little straw full of fleas to lie on, shivering with cold, breathing through the handkerchief, stuck by the bodies of his wretched and starved fellow Serbs.

 

 

                                                                       

[1]           Lat. – Činjenica.

[2]           Lat. – Kretanje, čin.

[3]           Lat. – Fact.

[4]           Lat. – Act.

[5]           Eng. – Doličnost, prikladnost.

[6]           Serb. – The sense of the appropriate.

[7]           Fr. – Kako produžiti mladost?

[8]           Fr. – Tretman hormonske zamene.

[9]           Fr. – Ne znam šta da kažem.

[10]         Serb. – Whether big or small war is the result of historical examination.

[11]         Lat. – Rat svih protiv svih.

[12]         Eng. – Uterivanje mira silom.

[13]         Franc. – Smrad.

[14]         Lat. – War against everyone.

[15]         Fr. – Stench.

 


                                                                              

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