A Late Walk
When I go up through the mowing field,
The headless aftermath,
Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew,
Half closes the garden path.
And when I come to the garden ground,
The whir of sober birds
Up from the tangle of withered weeds
Is sadder than any words.
A tree beside the wall stands bare,
But a leaf that lingered brown,
Disturbed, I doubt not, by my thought,
Comes softly rattling down.
I end not far from my going forth
By picking the faded blue
Of the last remaining aster flower
To carry again to you.
Robert Frost
***
Kasna šetnja
Dok hodam poljem pokošenim,
U ruci nosim prut,
Od teške rose mokra vlat,
Težim mi čini put.
A kad sam stigo do vrta svog
Čuo sam ptica glas
Iz žbuna suvog korova
Da reči ne nude spas.
Na golom drvetu kraj zida tog
Jedan je ostao list
Uznemiren, jeste, mislim ja,
Pašće i biće čist.
Nedaleko odatle završiću,
A svetlo će biti tama,
Kad uberem zadnji poljski cvet
Da bih ga odneo Vama.
Robert Frost
(prepevao Nebojša Krstić)