Billy Collins – The Revenant

I am the dog you put to sleep,
as you like to call the needle of oblivion,
come back to tell you this simple thing:
I never liked you–not one bit.

When I licked your face,
I thought of biting off your nose.
When I watched you toweling yourself dry,
I wanted to leap and unman you with a snap.

I resented the way you moved,
your lack of animal grace,
the way you would sit in a chair to eat,
a napkin on your lap, knife in your hand.

I would have run away,
but I was too weak, a trick you taught me
while I was learning to sit and heel,
and–greatest of insults–shake hands without a hand.

I admit the sight of the leash
would excite me
but only because it meant I was about
to smell things you had never touched.

You do not want to believe this,
but I have no reason to lie.
I hated the car, the rubber toys,
disliked your friends and, worse, your relatives.

The jingling of my tags drove me mad.
You always scratched me in the wrong place.
All I ever wanted from you
was food and fresh water in my metal bowls.

While you slept, I watched you breathe
as the moon rose in the sky.
It took all of my strength
not to raise my head and howl.

Now I am free of the collar,
the yellow raincoat, monogrammed sweater,
the absurdity of your lawn,
and that is all you need to know about this place

except what you already supposed
and are glad it did not happen sooner–

that everyone here can read and write,
the dogs in poetry, the cats and the others in prose.

 Book_Billy Collins - The Trouble with Poetry

Prevod na srpski

Povratnik iz mrtvih

Ja sam onaj pas kojeg si ‘uspavao’,
kako bi ti ono tu iglu zaborava nazvao,
Vratio sam se da ti saopštim nešto prosto:
Nikad mi se nisi dopadao – baš nimalo.

Kada sam ti lice lizao,
Smišljao sam kako bih ti nos odgrizao.
Kada sam te gledao kako se brišeš peškirom,
Želeo sam da skočim i muškosti te lišim.

Prezirao sam način na koji si se kretao,
Taj nedostatak životinjske gracioznosti,
kako si sedeo na stolici kada si jeo,
sa salvetom u krilu, nožem u ruci.

Pobegao bih,
ali previše sam slab bio, to je jedan trik kojem si me naučio
dok sam učio da sednem i hodam uz nogu,
i – najuvredljivije od svega – da se rukujem bez ruku.

Priznajem, sam pogled na povodac
me je uzbuđivao
ali samo zato što je to značilo da ću
onjušiti stvari koje ti nikada nisi dotakao.

Ti u to ne želiš da veruješ,
ali ja nemam razloga da lažem.
Mrzeo sam ta kola, te gumene igračke,
nisu mi se dopadali tvoji prijatelji, a, još manje, tvoji rođaci.

Zveckanje mojih privezaka izluđivalo me je.
Na pogrešnom mestu uvek češao si me.
Sve što sam ikada želeo od tebe
bila je hrana i sveža voda u mojim metalnim činijama.

Dok si spavao, gledao sam kako dišeš
Dok se mesec na nebu rađao
bila mi je potrebna sva snaga koju sam imao
da ne bih podigao glavu i zavijao.

Sada sam se oslobodio ogrlice,
žutog kišnog kaputa, džempera sa monogramom,
apsurdnosti tvog travnjaka,
i to je sve što treba da znaš o ovom mestu

sem onoga što si već pretpostavio
i drago ti je da se nije ranije desilo-

da ovde svi umeju da čitaju i pišu,
psi poeziju, mačke i ostali prozu.

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