Zbornik Mednarodnega literarnega srečanja Vilenica 2004 - Ljudmila

Novica Novaković
Headless Horsemen
Where are you now, headless horsemen, where are your totems, your
revolution, you’ve traded in your ideology and disobedience for
comfort and idleness, your freedom for obligations and responsibilities,
full of hesitation and wavering you’ve sold the pleasures of endless
fucking for masturbation, you’re gone, all gone and nothing of yours
remains, except for some puny notes, words, feeble verses, another
generation precedes you, even more disobedient, even haughtier, a
generation unchained with self affirmation, for it despises all
the modern society junk, who knows whether it will manage to change
the planet for the better, or at least forge a path for some third generation,
or a still later one that might bring change, restore peace and
wisdom, breathe passion into the desolate everyday, so I lie on the
floor exhausted and confused, and stare into the revolving ceiling, I
admit being too open, too emotional recently, this could backfire, but
let it be, some morning I’ll be gone anyway, I’ll pack
my gear and disappear, no words, no goodbyes, I’ll simply turn around
and leave,
just like a cruel, headless horseman who still believes in the world.
Translated by Spela Truden & Edward John Truden.
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