Fog and Metropolis

Metropolis

In our unfinished towns,
on the greenfield land between the blocks,
harvest is halfway done
and the moon shines on our plough-fields. 

Heating plant chimneys smoking among the towers,
contours of clustered buildings,
poems – hewn with the hammer,
                                mown with the sickle –
and empty petrol stations, glow in the red fog 

on the land nobody needs anymore
across which desert spreads
end to end like pestilence. 

The spirit will descend there like pesticide
like a blessed deluge,
like flakes of snow, 

and someone, surely someone
will have to be the first to hold out his hand
and catch it on his palm.

Fog

No one remembers
when the fog came.
Some claim it’s been here for generations,
others it’s just appeared.
Memory fails us. 

We meet each other’s outlines.
Strangers we greet
politely. The voice
shakes a bit, seeks warmth. 

With acquaintances we gather
and huddle together. We look at
each other’s faces,
that warms us a little.
Then we don’t know what to do
with ourselves anymore, so we break up. 

Some claim
the fog is overlooked by
the blank windows of tall buildings.

Muanis Sinanović has published four books of poetry in Slovenian. His selected poems have been published in Serbia in 2020. He is included in a Czech and Greek anthology of young European poetry and in EUROPOE: an Anthology of Contemporary European Poetry edited by Steven J. Fowler. He is also a prolific writer on topics such as film, literary criticism, music and culture and his book of essays is expected to be published soon. He has been awarded for both his poetry and essayism.

Mirza Purić is a literary translator, most recently of Faruk Šehić’s Under Pressure (Istros Books, 2019) and, in co-translation with Ellen Elias Bursać, of Miljenko Jergović’s Inshallah, Madonna, Inshallah (forthcoming , Archipelago Books). His work has appeared in Agni, Asymptote, EuropeNow, H.O.W. (online) and elsewhere.