Válek, Miroslav: Len tak

Len tak,
ako keby som ťa stretol náhodou,
ako keby som ťa stretol na ulici v prudkom daždi,
ako keby som ťa mohol odviezť loďou,
len tak mimochodom
poviem: „Mám ťa rád!“
Povieš: „Ach! Ako každý!“

Také pokorenie!
Možno by to bolo práve v auguste.
Zahanbený až po korene
stromov,
krútil by som kľúčom na prste,
povedal by som ti: „Poďme domov!“
Len tak,
ako náhodou.
A mimochodom.

Bolo by to asi v stredu, o pol štvrtej pred obchodom,
pri vedľajšom vchode,
kde sa predávajú spomienkové predmety
a vzducholode.
Zašepkala by si:
„Ale? A kam?“
Spýtal by som sa ťa: „Čo je ti?
Preboha, vrav, tak čo je ti?“
„Ach, nič,“ odvetila by si,
„iba, že si to povedal tak náhle
a mimochodom...“

Kde si?
Stále sa desím,
že ťa stretnem v noci,
v letnej horúčave,
keď mŕtva luna stojí za oknom
jak hypnotizovaný spáč
a keď sa ľakám,
že ma už zasa tuší
plač.

Keď pijem čaj
a meliem kávu,
keď sa bojím,
aj keď si kabát obliekam,
ustavične mám v hlave
to tvoje: „A kam?“
Ktoviekam!
Niekam, kde by som ti bol blízko
ako stromu strom,
kde by som sa ti prezradil,
ako prezrádza sa voda vode,
len tak,
ako náhodou.

Ako keď prší.

Just like that,
as if I have met you by chance,
as if I have met you in torrential rain,
as if I could take you to dance,
just like, by the way,
I’ll say: I‘m fond of you!
You’ll say: Oh, how plain!

Such a humiliation!
It might be in August or in September.
I’d be embarrassed  like the moon at dawn,
I’d be spinning  the key on my finger,
I’d tell you: Let’s go home!
Just like that,
As by chance.
And besides.

It would be, let’s say
on Wednesday at half four in front of the shop
by the next door,
where they sell souvenirs,
airships and more.
You would whisper:
Shall we? And where?
I’d ask:  Are you all right?
For God’s sake, tell me what’s happened?
“Oh, nothing,” you’d say,
“It’s just you’ve said that so sudden
and as if by the way…”

Where are you?
I always dread
that I’ll meet you at night
at summer heat,
when the dead moon is standing behind the window
like a hypnotized night fly
and when I fear I’m a twinkle in a crying eye.

When I’m drinking tea
and grinding coffee,
when I fear,
and even when I am putting on my coat,
I‘ve got in the head incessantly
that:” And where?” of yours.
Whoknowswhere!
I don’t know,
somewhere, where I would be near you,
like a tree to a tree,
where I would split on me in you
like water splits on her in water,
just like that,
like by chance.

Like when it’s raining.