Istria

Ma muşåta Istria
Turnå moi do ur an ali doi
La Sucodrul meu - me Iesenovic,
Docle în irima ma portu
Misli de vara
Şi mendula cân cveta...

Nu-a fost lâhco
Meare cu a pre lume
Turnå moi, se morair amna
Priste codru ali lug,
Samo che vedu
Lura de nopte.

Veri voi
Neca am toc credu
Za dişi iårba prin poľane
Şi cavta våcile cun påştu
În campanie.

În America
N-am aflåt niş muşåt
Cai cai tu fost --
Şi cân în cerşit, me suflet
Io am tunce pľerzut.

Ma muşåta Istria
Sucodrul meu --
Ce tu poci mie zice --
Se steapta mire vrut colo
Che io soi în cesta pemint
Şua însa...

Se me turnar ţie
Vresu şti --
Meu narod rumunesci
Se ra mire cunoşte,
Ali nura me obråz cunoşte...

Io sta nu ştivu
Ma poc zice --
Vezutam Roma, London şi
New York,
Ma n-a fost ni ur, cai tu
Sucodrul meu.

În me somnu
Io som cu tire înca - Istria
Şi cân ai în iårna råce, şi cân
N-avu capľa --
În ma irima plamicu cåd arde,
Şi nu se pote åto zegăsi.

Biser rodnog kraja

Moje sunce se na zapadu budi
Dok srce mi za istokom žudi,
Jer JESENOVIK je BISER, mojeg rodnog kraja
Za kojijm me uvijek moje ljubav spaja.

Nisi mi na moru, nisi u planini
Al' zbog bujnih gora, jos su ljepši lugi...
ZAVICAJU DRAGI, ja jos ti se divim,
Ja te opet trazim, rodni kraju - DUGI.

Tu Njujork i sunce, ne podnosim više,
Na tebe jos mislim i opet slutim kiše...
Moj BISERU STARI, na podnožju gora.
Moj JESENOVIK, dragi u usputaj mora.

Tu je DOM MOJ STARI, tu je crkva, škola,
Tu su znanci stari, iz djetinjstva mojeg...
To je moja ISTRA, kojom se ponosim,
I za kojom jos uvijek umirem od bola.

Tu su vale stare, pašnjaci i krave -
Da se selu vratim, jos me čeznje dave.
A u srcu mojem, ko' da magla pade,
Sto mi to tek život, na zapadu krade.

Dok vino se toči - sa BOCUNA starog -
Ja jos pamtim pjesmu, mojeg starog sela,
ISTRANKI sto mašu i marama bijela -
Do godine opet, kukuruzna sjela.

I dok budna sanjam, da sam opet tamo
Još me čeznje dave, da li sam im stranka.
Na pašnjaku starom, na kom su krave pasle,
Kad se opet vratim, bit ću li poznanka.

Moje sunce se, na zapadu budi
Dok srce mi za istokom žudi,
Jer, JESENOVIK je BISER, mojeg rodnog kraja,
Za kojim me uvijek moja ljubav spaja.

Castle Of Miramar

One more ride in my
Cadillac
Before I leave New York
For Italy...

Trieste is sitting proud
Paused and unnerved
With its blue waters -
My harbor of love.

Some year's back
I was here with my brother
We watched the waves
Splash the Castle of Miramar.

The borders we crossed
For a better life in America
While a small mountain village in Istria
Heard its goodbye.

Passing the road by the river
Once more my Brother
Turned to wave
Only to see our mother cry

Our reunion distant and unsure
So we sang
"Here I come America;
My new home, here I come..."

But to return for my Brother
Was not meant to be
He died tragically young
In his new land; His home

Who would ever have thought
That we would never again sing
"Here I come America;
Here I come..."

I revisited the Castle of Miramar
The Alps surrendered to the rain
And I listened
To submissive echoes of yesterday

Bocelli's song fills the air
Even the flowers can feel the aura of summer
But to whom am I a foreigner now
To whom? 

Florida, New York i Caracas...

To sve me sjeća ovaj čas...
Na stare staze djetinjstva,
A ISTRA JE U SRCU MOM,
Ma gdje da krenem, po svijetu tom.
Kako mi opet, jorgovani dive se maju,
Mirišu negdje li ljepše,
Nego u starom nam kraju.

(Posvećeno prijatelju iz školskih klupa Vladu Licul, i svim prijateljima koji su pohadjali Osnovnu Školu Čepić)

Kasna svjetla nad Hudsonom

Tu kasna svjetla nad Hudsonom,
Bude me čeznju za rodni dom!
FLORIDA, NEW YORK I CARACAS...
To sve me sjeća ovaj čas...
Na stare staze djetinjstva.
A ISTRA JU U SRCU MOM,
Ma gdje da krenem po svijetu tom.

Sanjareći - Sad sam opet tu:
Vidim -
KOPAR i Rovinjsku FUMIJU,
PULU i lijepu OPATIJU!
A kad se oči otvore:
"Suzama mi se natope -
To je tek NJUJORK - poslije kiše!"
STARE ME VALE ZABORAVISE!

Vlado..........Evo ti sad
Jedne 'SORPRESE'
50 (pedeset) - šta pa nema veze,
"Sretan ti rodjendan Vlado!"
Znaš li, da i jorgovani dive se maju?
Mirišu negdje li ljepše,
Nego u starom nam kraju?

Jesenovik

Kako mi izgledas selo
Na podnozju Ucke,
Dok biju ure kasne,
Jer odavno te zaboravih
I slike mi nisu jasne,
Ali u srcu te nosim.

O cemu tek sada prica
Tisina tvojih noci,
Kad nema cvrcka u travi,
Jos uvijek zelim da znam,
Jer beznadna ceznja me davi-
Da opet tebi se vratim.

Nazirem te izdaleka
Usnulo s uvalama djetinjstva,
I umjesto zvijezdanih noci,
more je crnih oblaka,
Sada na tvojem nebu.

Tek jedno posve znam
Da cekanja ostaju duga,
Dok jednom opet me vrati,
Tisina ljetnog dana
I kako da odolim,
Kad tuzne su veceri juga.

2001-04-08

Mountain Girl 

She came from
The land
Where peasants live
Up high
On the mountain hills

Led by the dim light
Of a foreign star
She came quietly
From afar

Green pastures
She left behind
Thinking: happiness
Would be her new find

Her arrival marked
In the gold granules of sand
With sense of adventure
In the newfound land

Not a celebrity, nor...
a spy,
Her eyes have found
A Western Sky

And just
Like minutes fit into hours
Her dreams also
Hold power

But it is...
Sad songs she sings
Of love lost...
That has no wings

When the sky
Becomes too sharp in color
It is the pain she calls, her
"...dolor."

As if hers was
The heart of stone
This dreamer is all
Alone

Wake her not
If she sleeps
Must be her heart, that now
Weeps

In an embrace
Stretch your arms
She's missing her village
And the snowflakes
On her palms 

My old village (in Istria) 

How do you look, my village
in the wintery mountain valley?
Is the old house still standing?
Are your young boys now dying?
Do you hear the gunfire, in Bihach
or, by now, is it subsiding...?

While the late hours are striking
your scenery is not vivid
but in my heart, you are carried.

I can see you, from a distance
with sleepy childhood alleys,
but instead of star studded nights,
dark clouds are in your sky.

But village, I now pray
That the quietness of some summer day,
with cricket song in the grass
and no darkness in your skies...
I'll be back on my way...
But...for now I have to stay
And if that summer's day never comes again on display
I will have to say
"Adios village... And now, for me, please pray."

Prijatelji smo, znanci poznanci!

Djetinjstvo smo dali - istim valama...
Prašnjavom cestom hodali,
Igrali smo se BALAMA
I nešto lijepo - je,
Ipak ostalo medju nama.
Pa jos nešto... Vlado!

Živi nam sretno I dugo...
I sto da ti još želimo drugo -
Od svih drugova školskih...
SVE NAJBOLJE -
Dok se ne vidimo opet:

U selu malom kod LABINA
Di boce su pune vina.
A kuće male sa žlipcima,
Još ljepše su od NJUJORKA.
U nama nek zive do groba -
ISTARSKO MORE i obala.

A kad zasvira HARMONIKA,
Kao i nekad, me podsjeća,
Na staze moga djetinjstva -
Od UCKE pa sve do mora.
LJEPOTA ISTRE ME OPIJA!
(u tome jedna legenda, Gianna,
harmonikašica, a što bi bilo bez
Eugenia, i dragog našeg nam Paola).
I još mnogo, mnogo toga,
No ponos od sveg je veći,
Al' za sve to nema riječi.

Selo drago - lijepe Istre moje

Selo drago - lijepe Istre moje
Doći ću ti do godine koje -
Ja jos čuvam sjećanje na ljeta...
A u srcu mi mendula cvijeta.

Nije bilo lako reci:"Zbogom!"
Vratit ću se, pa makar i nogom,
Da prehodam brda i doline
I osjetim opoj mjesečine.

Da mirišem po mirisu trave,
Da odvedem u dolove krave,
Da osjetim hum šuma i njiva.
Da ti kažem - što se samnom zbiva.

Ali, ja ti samo sanjam selo,
Makar zimi - srce mi je vrelo,
Jer ljubav u srcu mi tinja
Da prošetam kraj zelenog inja...

Tu ne nadjoh, ništa vrijedno tebe,
A tražeci - tek izgubih sebe.
Selo moje istarsko daleko,
Bar mi reci, dal' me čeka neko.

Da se vratim, da li bi me znali,
Il' mi nebi lice prepoznali...
Jer u srcu mi mendula cvate,
Moje selo - dok ja mislim na te.

Godine su učinile svoje
Selo drago- lijepe Istre moje.
Ljubav nosim za tebe u duši...
Da ti dodjem, jos me čeznja guši.

Da se vratim, barem jednom tamo
Znam da ljudi, rekli bi mi samo:
"Tko je ova sa zapada dama,
I što radi, ovdje medju nama?"

Na zapadu joj postelja meka,
A za selom, tek čeznja daleka.
Jos od bola, srce mi se topi,
Da se vratim mojoj Europi.

Selo drago - lijepe Istre moje
Doći ću ti - do godine koje -
Jer dok nosim na zapadu zlato,
tebe sanjam i mislim na blato.

I do onda - ja ti šaljem kiše,
Nema suza, u očima više...
Dok sudbina u zvijezdama piše,
Njujork mi na mjesec maj miriše.

Quietly Slept my Village

Once there
wild boars ruled
the mountain
in winters

the river
with it's crystal waves
run 
into the Adriatic Bay

quietly slept
my village
in the valley, under the roofs
of red clay

for days, now
I dreamt
of returning
to my Istrian home,

but I heard
the place
was thirsting
for rain

the latest news
not a picture perfect
the lightning hit
the rugged terrain

it sparked
the fire, turned
the plateau
into burning flames

there I wanted to hear
the Roman language spoken,
see the old cemetery
if I may?

watch the cows
in the green fields;
smell the fragrance
of newly-cut hay

village
if only, I could have
sent you
the Western Rain?

[This poem refers to the unusually rainy 2003 summer season in New York City and the Eastern Atlantic, which occurred concurrently with the extreme heat and dry weather in Istria and Europe that caused many fires and deaths there. The focus here is a major fire in Istria that was started by lightning and, in the absence of rain, destroyed a great part of  the natural habitat of Mala Učka mountain, and also damaged the villages at its foothills.]

Zena sto zivi u Gradu

Svaki klanac
Cesta
Sva ona mjesta
Staze
I kamen

Srce voli te cijelo
Moje drago istro-rumunsko selo.

Jednom si mi dusu punilo ljubavlju,
A sada je ostavis praznu;

Sto se je dogodilo s vatrama tvog
Ognjista,

Zasto me ne oslobodis zelja sto me
Tebi vuku,

Zar ne vidis moju bijelu ruku...?

Ti si mi donosilo srecu:

Gledala sam te kako se opijeno igras
Suncanim zrakama

Ispod planine Ucke

Selo...
Jos me pamtis mladu, a kise tu padaju
Na stradu...

Pitam se:
Znas li da na te misli, zena
sto zivi u gradu. 

Letter To Istria

Inked over the white paper--
A long while; Looking into the distance
I smile.
Istria, faraway across the sea
'I am happy, I am all
You want me to be.'
At times I wish to remain silent
But am heaven bent. My time with you
Was a time well spent.
Now in New York it's after midnight
It's late.With my thoughts
I congregate:
Of everything that has past
And will be, often nights
I pray the Rosary,
And the Apostoles- Creed, oh Istria
If you knew how you only
Can satisfy this need
Of belonging to the land I still love
With thoughts that are many,
Not few...
Some nights I take walks on Broadway...
Park Avenue or watch
The late show
And if someone was able to read
My thoughts, they'd know
I am not angry or weak,
But Istria, only to you I can
Speak of the storms
And hurricanes
And the avenues I have ventured.
My life, just one long, endless
Adventure.
No longer a girl, I am a woman now,
But your strings are pulling me
Back somehow.
Overridden by emotion--like a bee's sting.
With your mountains I wish to have
One last fling.
And if I was to land at your shore?
Need to know would you reject
A stranger?
Would I stare into the unknown,
Or would you welcome me
Once more?
Istria, here I am this late hour
Feeling the manipulation
Of your power.

June 6, 2007

My Thoughts Will Always Find You Trannsylvania

My Romanian land
1.
You birthed my soul
My Romanian land

Now I'm in New York
I walk on the old Coney Island
Boardwalk--

Stepping into the fine sand by
The ocean

Letting the wind beat my skin
In a fast moving motion

My Romanian blood is for you with passion
Boiling hot

There were nights when I tried to
Sleep, but could not
2.
Wond'ring...

My Romanian land

Must be some generations back
Someone said

When they left
'my thoughts will always find you'

Trannsylvania

Some winters back I sought the
Words to send you

this note, vlaski I wrote:

Tot aj bire
Domnu cu tire
Vrama a trecut
Tire nam vezut

I have not seen you!
Is it something you forgot to tell me?

Maybe you'll find easy to accept
My lasting thoughts?

My travels to and departures
From my Istro Romanian home
Were never easy

I often looked eastwards
Trying to find the right words

Soaked in the rain I walked
Secretly with the night I spoke.

Other fires inflamed my heart
Other storms have reached this shore

I wish I would have found the one
That'd bring me back to you once more.

2004-02-28

My Istro- Romanian Home

Here on the west things seemed to come easy
and I must admit I love this life, the people--
New York;
But I can't compare; With thoughts of you my
heart gets subdued...
Leaving you was not easy, my home.
Banks of the river are now dry.
The tree behind the house where I carved my name--
cut!
Lamps had run out of petroleum, wicks burned.
Not sure if I am glad to see you or my mood is
misguided,
but I know missing you was heart- felt.
I can smell you and exhale you:
Dream of the sunsets I watched in Rijeka, or the
Danube when I traveled... You'd wait.
I always thought if I spoke loud enough you'd hear
me; You are the one that heard my first
words spoken and knew of my first poem written.
On your roads I wore a yellow raincoat to school.
Have to admit I left my heart and soul here,
where mothers are no longer waiting?
After the war-- my dreams dispersed like gunpowder.
Hum of your woodlands is sinking in mystery.
Sorry... if I failed to return sooner, to save you.
Somehow I thought if I spoke louder you'd hear me.
When I looked back I only saw a mirrored image of
you... Yeah:
I thought you'd wait for some poet to write in
remembrance of you? My Istro- Romainan home,
Please tell me everything is cool?

2003-01-22

Different Horizons

I left you Istria
in early summer...
disarmed from sorrow
resigned to grief
not knowing
which road would lead- back

My feet were
lifting me... higher than
I could imagine
from the walkway of the
dusty country road...

I have found my wings:

Was it freedom...
I searched for...?
To be free ~ from myself?

What is the price of freedom?
What lies behind the agitated smile?

Yesterdays
took residency in the periphery of my heart

Found towers, become a queen...
my mind wept,
always just feet away from perfect bliss

Watched tulips bloom under different horizons,
with broken dialect and open mind

I learned to dream:

Found life anew
experienced bliss from a different angle, always
seeing you Istria from behind the glass wall

I remember
as a child
I would make paper boats, make them float
down the river till dark.

Every time
I thought of you Istria
my sentimentality returned

I dreamt
of post- encounters, and yeah...of times I was
almost there...

Istria... once more...
I would love
to bathe in the moonlight
and the long shadows of your nights

To be swept to your shores
by the winds
of Adriatic

2003-03-19

O Istro, Istro, Istrice...

Va bosku san sla
Tu tri ure gori od Njujorka.
Ma ni lipa ko' tvoja
'Tvoja Istrijanska Boska.'

O Istro, Istro kako san plakala
Niki me ne vidi...
A ti... magar va mislima
'Pridi mi Istro pridi.'

Na beloj harti pisen,
I tu hodin po liscen.
I staro nebo bi plakalo
Da zna da te iscen...?

Ja tako bin otila
Da mi vidis lice
I noge me zebu
Tribaju mi skafunice.

Od bele ovcje vune,
Mat ih je doma vela
Grebale su me. Ma su bolje
Nego od svile, se klela.

Pokle skole san zela
Do vode Boskarina,
A mat je z' bocuna davala
Susedu da pije vina.

A krava se zvala Vrba
I Morica moja breka
Ponekad mi se jos vidi
Da me poli kuce ceka.

To je ko' sanj pasalo
Ko lanjski snig
I jos mi se vavik vidi
Kako gren na brig:

Tu bi napravila
Jenu baskeru micu
Za nalozit sparhet z' smrikvu
Pa zapalit svicu.

O Istro, Istro, Istrice...
Se mi se to po glavi mota.
Kako da najden mir,
Ma ca cu od zivota?

2006-06-11

A Sea Shell...

Once more I came to see
My old city of RIJEKA,
By the shore;
This time
I heard the ocean roar,
It murmured-
sadly,
Telling a story
Of storms, winds
And the WAR.

I watched the alleys;
I thought
I knew them well...
I tried to walk
Barefoot by the ocean
Hoping to see him,
But only found a sea shell.

This shore
Used to be for the lovers,
For the two of us;
This place I used to call
My LAND--
But, like broken glass
My heart is shattered,
The pieces scattered
and mixed with the sand.

I kept on walking,
But felt like
A lost little lamb.
Instead of
"have a pleasant summer"
The sign read:
"do not step on a bomb."

I saw an old man
I told him- for my love
I still yearn--
He told me- all the man
In this war were SOLDIERS.
Some came back,
But some-- they didn't return.

I heard the church bells
In the distance--
Quietness is my only friend,
I'll endure this
With Lord, right beside me
I'll be strong...
All the way to the end.

I'll watch the mountain
How tall is standing
And the river when it cuts
The ground deep.
If I can't come again tomorrow
I'll close my eyes
And be there in my sleep.

Because
This are the alleys
I thought I knew them well...
Once more I'll walk
Barefoot by the OCEAN...
This time I'll see him
And hand him my sea shell.

2001-07-03

Istria (# 2)

My beautiful Istria
I'll return
in a year or two,
While my heart still carries
remembrance of summers
and almond trees in full bloom.

I'll come
under the full moon.
It was not easy
to say: "Goodbye."
I'll return-- if I have to walk
through the mountains and meadows,
just to feel
the moonlights splendor...

To feel
the exuberance
and the scent of the grasses...
I'll take cows
in their green pastures,
I'll come,
in me please have no doubt,
to tell you what this
"cowgirl" is all about.

But I have a secret,
I am just dreaming
of you my Istria...
Even on cold winter nights,
in my heart
the flames flicker high, wishing
I could take the longest walk
by the pine tree alleys,
without being awakened;
Because the shock
of not seeing your vision...
would break my heart.

I could find
nothing here--
worth your beauty
and by looking,
I only lost my soul.
My faraway ISTRIA
could you please tell me:
"Is someone waiting,
because heartache
is all that I am feeling
and my life is out of control."

If I come back,
would my friends
still know me,
or would they see a stranger
in my face.
I have no way of knowing,
but one thing is for sure,
I have seen Rome
London and New York,
but I could not compare you
to eny other place.

If I came
even once to see you,
my Istria...
I know people would say:
"Who is this woman
and what is she looking for:
"West could offer her
a warm bed and riches,
but East
is what her heart is longing for."
From the pain,
my heart is dissolving--
to see my old home in Europe,
garden full of peaches,
to be where I belong.

Years have left the mark
on me my Istria,
on my body, mind and soul,
but the torch for you I'll carry
till "death do us part."
Even the seconds,
could tell the longest story,
but the torch--
will burn, deep within my soul.

2001-06-11

How Many Lanterns

How many lanterns flickered
before
how many poems written;
A "cliche"... perhaps
but my heart pulls me there...

Where red roses and wine
sit on the table
in the early afternoons
and outside cafe's
smell with the aroma ot the ocean

How many heartbeats away
before I can escape...
to recapture moments- turned days
I spent by the sea lantern
where Rijecina- runs into the Adriatic Sea

Not so easy to break away
from everyday entrapments
when momories are piercing through
like a blade--
of a knife unsharpened  

A sam voljela Rijeku

Opet sezone bjeze,
A ja sam tako voljela Rijeku,
Kada je svod tamno plavi-
A prijatelj, onaj pravi.

Sazaljiv pogled
Jos se niz nju spusta,
Ali uzvracen nije...

Okolina me podsjeca na jesen-
To malo ostrvo...
Jednog cu se dana vratiti njemu.

Sunce mi uvijek prodire u srce
Kada ogole svodovi,
Ali jesen, osvaja dusu.
Mozda se bojim, hladnih vjetrova.

Kada posjetim to malo ostrvo,
Morat cu mu reci, istinu o sebi.
Vrijeme nije podesno- za zaljenje,
A ja sam tako, voljela Rijeku.  

2001-04-23