Monday, January 9, 2017

Rob Schackne Poems #2 - Stari Most

Stari Most


In Southern Bosnia
where I first knew you
where there was so much death
there was a beautiful bridge
you can't kill memory
where there is a beautiful bridge
this is a story about Mostar
a story about Stari Most
but no, it's a story about us
and the fight we had
on the beautiful bridge
and how I swore to you
we would both grow old
there would be no war
you didn't listen (I remember)
you kept on slapping me
we got home we didn't speak
we made japrak and chorba
we cried and held each other tight
later they tortured you
then they killed you
it was a beautiful bridge
all the water gone
of course I write this.


2 comments:

  1. Just discovering the poem, I wonder if the first line is necessary (to me better to start directly with the tension of the narrative) ... and if you wanted to keep this information, in Southern Bosnia which is understandable anyway, then I would transfer it line 10, and line 2 would become line 3:


    where there was so much death
    where I first knew you
    there was a beautiful bridge
    you can't kill memory
    where there is a beautiful bridge
    this is a story about Mostar
    a story about Stari Most
    but no, it's a story about us
    and the fight we had
    in Southern Bosnia
    on the beautiful bridge
    and how I swore to you

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  2. Thank you, chère Béatrice. This poem has had this shape or similar for some time now, and so of course it feels natural to retain this slow gradual opening up of the tragedy that follows, but I shall consider your comment carefully. :)

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