Boris Jovanović Kastel
Montenegrin poet and essayist. Born 1971, in Trebinje, Bosnia-Herzegovina. He has published the poetry collections Kad zamirišu kajanja (The Scent of Regrets, 1994), Prstenje pomorja (The Rings of Seaside, 1995), Fusnote južnih zvona (Footnotes of Southern Bells, 1997), Anatomija sredozemnog dana (The Anatomy of a Mediterranean Day, 1998), Mediteranska agenda i proricanje prošlosti (The Mediterranean Agenda and Predicting the Past, 2000), Mediteranski heksateuh (The Mediterranean Hexateuch, 2003), Ego mora (The Ego of the Sea, 2004), Vjenčanje sa sipom (Wedding with Cuttlefish, 2007), Neptune’s Spear (2007, selected poems in English), selected poems Mediteranski indigo (Mediterranean Indigo, 2008), Ručak na hridini (Lunch on the Cliff, 2010) and Slovenian edition Kosilo na čeri, 2014) and Beskopnik (A man without mainland, 2015). He is the author of four books of essays: Pergament od sireninog poprsja (The Parchment of Mermaid’s Bust, 2000), Peta strana juga (The Fifth Side of the South, 2005), Ogledanje u bonaci (Reflection in the Calm, 2009) and Mediteransko prosvjetljenje – naš Mediteran, kompas sudbine (Mediterranean Enlightenment – Our Mediterranean, The Compass of Fate, 2012). A number of Montenegrin and international writers have devoted an entire volume of essays to his poetry: Mediteranski gospar (A Mediterranean Master, 2009). In Calabria, he was awarded the Nosside 2011 Prize for poetry. His works have been translated into Albanian, English, Italian, Hungarian, Polish, and Slovenian, and have been included in many anthologies of Montenegrin and Mediterranean love poetry. He lives in Podgorica, the capital of Montenegro.
https://boriskastel.wordpress.com/poezija-engleski/
Hiša poezije Translations
The Banned
She rushed to the sun long ago
and it celebrates or burns down.
They make me forget her,
but I can’t
because the sun is still rising
above the Mother of Jesus in Perast
where in the cell
surrounded by the senses of panihidas
by the stormes and turnkeys
I hear the burning of the eagle
at the carnival of merchants.
I survive by biting my nails
and I secretly drink diluted urine,
by the fish skeleton
I engrave the genealogy
of gentlemen and haiduks
of cut veins.
Excuse me the lady of Montenegro,
I read and remember you –
banned to the promise of sandy covers.
Translated by Vladimir Sekulić and Julka Ostojić
