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1.
СЪОТВЕТСТВИЯ На сутринта ще се събуди майка ми. Една игла ще прободе сърцето ѝ, една игла, чиито тъп край е в живота, и остър – вбит в петата на смъртта. А аз, на другия край на света, не ще съм усетила нищо. Ще пия кафе или ще се прозявам сънено. И само единствен Нютон, докато закусва, ще поеме болката, ще поеме удара и ще се срине на земята. Във вечерната емисия майка ми ще чуе за смъртта на Нютон, който в случая е носорог. Ще чуе за смъртта и ще се досети. SUGLASJA Ujutro će se probuditi moja majka. Jedna igla probost će njezino srce, jedna igla čiji tupi kraj je u životu, i oštar – zabijen u petu smrti. A ja, na drugom kraju svijeta, neću osjetiti ništa. Pit ću kavu ili ću zijevati pospano. Samo i jedino Newton dok doručkuje, primit će bol, primit će udar i srušit će se na zemlju. U večernjoj emisiji moja majka će čuti za Newtonovu smrt koji je u ovom slučaju nosorog. Čut će za smrt i dosjetit će se.
2.
До селото на мъртвите стигнахме случайно - по обичаен междуселски път, полупокрит от сенки и шубраци. То беше две-три къщи само - със номера 6, 7, 8, написани наскоро с жълто. Бе тихо, с тих, внезапен вятър... Пеперуди – единствени стопани, прехвърляха оградите на къщите. Дори и духовете бяха се преселили отвъд - във онова далеч по-оживено място. Геранът, старият геран, бе пълен със вода, но кофа нямаше. Далечно ми напомняше на жаден и безрък човек. А ние – единствените живи от години - ядяхме джанки в селото на мъртвите, бобонки късахме от селото на мъртвите. Живителният сок полепваше по пръстите. Do sela mrtvih stigli smo slučajno – uobičajenim međuseoskim putem, polupokrivenim sjenama i žbunjem. To su bile dvije-tri kuće samo – s brojevima 6, 7, 8, napisanim nedavno žutim. Bilo je tiho s tihim, iznenadnim vjetrom... Leptiri – jedini vlasnici prevalili bi ograde kuća. Čak su se i duhovi preselili na onu stranu – u ono daleko življe mjesto. Zdenac, stari zdenac bio je pun vode, ali kante nije bilo. Izdaleka me je podsjećao na žednog čovjeka bez ruku. A mi – jedini živi već godinama – jeli smo divlje šljive u selu mrtvih, bobice smo trgali iz sela mrtvih. Životvorni sok lijepio se po prstima
3.
Красива е походката й сутрин, попила хладни есенни въздишки. Прекрасен ще е идващият ден, си мисля, дори за миг да мога да я зърна. Не смея да я заговоря, нямам думи и забелязвам – не напразно вятърът край нея спира. Така и никога не ще отгатна какво със леките си стъпки носи. Изчезват хората край нея. Всъщност – няма други, които да се движат тъй изящно и плавно в млякото на утринта. Да, нейната походка е така невероятна, тя сякаш плува. Да можех, бих я нарисувала – “Танцуващата нимфа сред мъглата”. Красива е походката й вечер, когато се прибира към дома си цветен. Така примамно свети нейната коса, когато тя се движи, че не случайно скрива се луната. Не мога нищо да й кажа, нямам думи, но знам, че нейната сияеща коса от мене крие тайни, които никога не бива да узная.
4.
КУЛАТА ОТВЪТРЕ Безкрайни тесни стъпала, въже, което никога не свършва, бих разбудила града, ако не беше надписът Не бий камбаната! Мирише на самота и на старост. На 9.9.99 година някой с черен маркер е написал: Tamara кo fina prašina u oku ko sitan kamen na dnu ciple ko fitilj zarobljen u vosku mislim na tebe. * * Тамара / като фина песъчинка в окото / като малко камъче в обувката / като фитил, пленен от восъка/ мисля за тебе – цитат от песен на хърватския изпълнител Zlatan Stipišić Gibonni. KULA IZNUTRA beskrajne uske stepenice, uže koje nikada ne završava, razbudila bih grad da nije bilo natpisa ne diraj zvono. Mirisalo je na samoću i starost. 9.9.99. godine netko je crnim markerom napisao: “Tamara ko fina prašina u oku ko sitan kamen na dnu ciple ko fitilj zarobljen u vosku mislim na tebe”.
5.
ЗА ПЪРВИ ПЪТ над мен залязва небето на Хърватия от ляво и от дясно са белите стени отпред е хоризонтът в пламъци една звезда отключва безброден свят има други светове и ти го знаеш PRVI PUT nada mnom zalazi nebo Hrvatske s lijeva i desna su bijeli zidovi sprijeda je horizont u plamenovima jedna zvijezda otvara onaj svijet ima i drugih svjetova i ti to znaš
6.
The pearl hunter He was young and well-built, broad-chested and with wiry muscles. The smooth skin, with the tan of an endless summer, radiated health and strength, and it could make countless women’s looks caress and crave it. The walk provoked sighs and evoked reveries, the hair fell in large waves onto his shoulders, played with the wind and with the freedom… Just a pearl hunter… almost happy… He loved the ocean and the sunbeams over the waves, he loved the warm air and the smell of the afternoon showers, he loved life and the constant feeling that he exists, he loved the colours of the sunset, he loved the equator zone… but he was madly in love with the underwater world, with the fantastic allure of the coral isles and their unique tranquillity. He could not imagine life without the slow swing of the seaweed and the furrowed sandy seabed. Without the starfish and the pearl clams... One could not find words to describe what he experienced underwater. The only way was to feel it… and he had. This beautiful magic was priceless and nothing could take it away or replace it. It was love and excitement. It was real life. He reached the boat and threw the flippers inside. He took the oxygen tank off his shoulder, stepped overboard and carefully placed it on the bottom. He had always preferred to submerge without the help of the equipment, but the pearl clams near the coast were long gone and he had to go deeper and deeper in the ocean to find any. He untied the rope, thrust away from the shore and started the engine. The boat swept over the blue expanse, leaving wavy traces of white foam, his hair opened up like wings against the wind and he felt again the eagerness, the desire to dive into the salty universe and remain as long as possible in its lavish embrace. The pearls it gave him fed him and ensured his livelihood, they made his life easy. Thanks to them he had the oxygen equipment, and his nice house on that island, and… everything. But none of these were the most important. What joy could one find, having once seen this enchanting beauty, to lose it afterwards? How could he move to some other place, when he knew that he would be leaving his enraptured soul here? He wasn’t interested in wealth. He was rich enough already. He knew that from now on, if he could not find even one pearl, he was still going to have enough resources for years, but he was chasing his dream… He would sink into the fairy universe amongst colourful corals, the large lazy jellyfish and the calm motley fish, amongst the silence of the lulling waves, amongst the underwater expanse, and search, search, search… His eyes would fill with beauty, and his sight couldn’t get enough and would want more and more. He knew that one day he was going to find it and he was patient. His dream… The enormous pearl clam… The dream he had been dreaming since his childhood… The enormous pearl clam… The enormous pearl clam… It would give meaning to everything… It would take him closer to beauty and love, to the magic of the underwater world… It would make him a part of the miracle… It would make him really happy. He had reached the right place. About a hundred metres away the islet was glowing with its coral charm, caressed by the gentle waves. The hunter threw the weight he used as an anchor into the water, tied up his hair into a ponytail and fixed the tank. He wet his flippers, put them on, wiggled his toes to check whether they were on properly, and after that he put his mask on. He sat on the edge of the boat and thrust himself out with his legs. His back met the cool surface, which opened and took him into its embrace with some kind of special tenderness that could be felt only by him. The sun refracted through the water and made its colour even more gentle and translucent. The millions of molecules rubbed blissfully against his body and their inaudible sound gave him a hint that the Day had come. He was almost certain that today he would find it. Or maybe it would find him. He started swimming near the surface, watching the bottom. The depth was no more than six metres, and the water – amazingly clear. The sound of the flippers merged with the light breath of the ocean, with the swinging of the waves and of his breath, which turned into colourless bubbles. He took a deep breath from the tank and rowed downwards. The sand came closer and bit by bit the scenery became clearer: a stone overgrown with seaweed, a school of small fish in a hurry, the flickering light of the refracted sunrays and his shadow floating over the rippling bottom. He heard a quiet distant call. He felt it. Deep inside him. It was crawling through his subconscious and breathlessly trying to reach him. It was squeezing through the tangle of lethargic thoughts and coming closer. The man kept on swimming without thinking of the direction. Now he was absolutely sure that the day had come… that it was calling him… that it was leading him… as well as the many other times before… just as every night, just as in every dream… A warm current came from somewhere and carried him towards the approaching whisper, towards the glimmer of what he craved. A vermilion starfish tried to catch his attention, shouting with its beauty, calling his eyes with its loveliness, but it remained uncaressed by his eyes. The hunter was powerfully rowing, having felt in his chest the great desire to get there as soon as possible, and, enchanted by the silent call, he was anticipating the bliss that awaited him. In the distance, where the colours were becoming denser and dimmer, a blurry spot appeared. The warm current disappeared or cooled down, but wherever it had gone, it had done its work. The pearl hunter felt how quickly his heart started beating, he felt how more bubbles rushed to the surface and he started swimming slower not to spoil the magic. The bottom began to sink in and the slight slope to grow steeper, enticing him to secret depths, and on the verge of the smooth and the steep stood She. Just like in his dreams. Huge and white. With waves that clung to the shell, woven into her beauty. With bright sun rays, running scattered over the matt whiteness. With soft magnificence and enchanting indescribability. So, he found her… the dream was true… the dream was right before his eyes… giving meaning to everything… approaching the beauty… the miracle of the underwater world… He approached and ran his hand over the waves. His palm filled with phosphorescent pleasure, his breath stopped. He went round her, looked her all over, and delighted by her incredible size, a quiet moan went off in his soul – she was really splendid… He grasped her from underneath and tried to lift her. Even here, in the water, she was so heavy that he hardly managed to tug her off the bottom. He bent his back, strained himself and when she moved again, he thrust her down the slope. A sand vortex rose up and the trace from the sliding clam smeared the reflection of the waves over the bottom. When the sand particle mist settled down, he saw her five or six metres downhill, lying a little askew. He approached her and pushed her again. The depth now was great enough – hardly anyone would come that far… He felt weakness and fatigue. The water pressed him as if it wanted to stop him. He swam upwards towards the surface, waited for a while to restore his normal breathing and in a minute or two he dived. He cut the rope of the anchor and imagined the wind and the waves taking the boat far away. He started rowing downwards, made a backward thrust with his legs , rowed again, and again, and deeper. The pressure was enormous. For a moment he thought he shouldn’t have pushed her that deep, that he wouldn’t be able to reach her… He looked at the enchanting whiteness and again heard her call in his consciousness. The sunlight hardly penetrated here, but the clam was slightly phosphorescing. Phosphorescing and opening… Phosphorescing… And opening… Opening… The whisper of dreams bygone fused with the imaginary sound of winds and the man felt a slight, distant sadness for the other world. There was an abundance of beauty in it, too, countless ways to feel happy… But for the Pearl Hunter the happiness could only be one thing. Just one single thing. Only the absolute fusion with the underwater magic… Only the breathless happiness to be a part of it… to be a slight gleam in the radiance of the miracle… He took a deep breath and took the tank off his back. He threw it away and after that the flippers. He untied his hair and it spilled in the water. He took off his mask and his eyes started hurting from the pressure. There was nothing he would need any more. Because the open clam was before him and was waiting… He approached carefully and lay down onto her flesh, curled up like an embryo. He exhaled his air, and it squeezed through the closing shell. It clattered over him hollowly and hid the light. Now he was going to stay here forever. He was going to be a small piece of all that beauty… He imagined how many years from now he was going to turn into a large pearl and smiled. Yavor Tsanev Translated from Bulgarian: Julia Nefedova
7.
ПО ДЯВОЛИТЕ НЕГОВИТЕ ОЧИ Кръвта танцува танго Когато е наоколо Начинът, по който ме кара да се усмихвам Начинът, по който нося парфюма му върху кожата ми като сатенена рокля Начинът, по който само той може да ме наблюдава Кара ме да се чувствам като древна императрица Той не просто прегръща Той прави повече от това.... Ръцете му около кръста ми Са морската пяна, в която родена е Венера Всъщност, аз се Прераждам всеки път, когато се гмуркам в очите му .... Писма в бутилка Висят около бара Кристални риби Аквамарин Цветът на очите му Е Цветът на сърцето ми "Пожелай си нещо" Ми каза .... Добре, Имам всичко сега .... Просто може би нека да продължи вечно ... DAMN HIS EYES The blood dances tango When he is around The way he makes me smile The way I wear his perfume on my skin as a satin dress The way only he can watch me Makes me feel like an ancient empress He doesn’t jus embrace It is more than that His arms around my waist Are the sea foam Venus was born from Actually, I reborn every time I go diving in his eyes.... Letters in a bottle Hanging around the bar Crystalline fishes Aquamarine The color of his eyes Is The color of my heart “Make a wish” He says..... Well, I have it all now.... Just maybe let it last forever.....
8.
Писмо до св. Серафим Всяка вечер….моля се, Макар от Магдалена по-неправедна да бъда. Едно е името и то ни само различава. Моля се, друга съм….зная доброто…. И не да го даваш само, а да позволиш с Тебе добри да са…. Моля се, преди Него да ме вземеш. Нито миг без него ….да не трябва да имам няма смисълday дори повдигането сутрин на клепките ми с полепнали по тях сол, целувки и Щастие Фотография - само замъка на някой караконджул липсва. Той, дявола, който Маргарита покани на бал…. Тя….вятър….полъх ….душа….косите и са разпилени Шията и - надраскана от гъстите му пръсти…. Щастие от вятър….вятър от щастие…. Те ….статуя на малкия им ангел…. Каменна….студена…..с очи сякаш на дете…. Фотографиране и фотогравиране на резултата от сливането на световетете по вените ми Моля се, вземи ме преди него, Ала още рано е , нали ? Letter to St. Seraphim Every night… I pray Although to be more unjust than Magdalene. The name is one and it only distinguishes us. I am praying , I'm different… .I know the good…. And not just give it, but allow someone to be good with You I pray before you take me.... Not a moment without him… . To be that I should have there is no point in even lifting my eyelids in the morning with salt glued to them And kisses and Happiness Photography - only the castle of some karakonjul is missing. He, the devil that Margarita invited to her ball. She, wind… .breath… .soul… . Her hair is scattered like sunlight rays Her neck - scratched by his thick fingers…. Happiness made of wind… . wind made of happiness…. They… .statue of their little angel…. Stone… .cold… ..with eyes like a child…. Photographing and engraving the result of the merging of our worlds in my veins Please take me before him, But it's too early, isn't it?
9.
Мисля си за първият път, когато .... - Те видях - Те прегърнах - Те целунах ( три пъти ) - Те зарадвах - Ти ми писа - Ме покани на „сладкарница” - Ми направи комплимент - Ми пусна музика - Ме покани на вечеря - Ти досадих - Ти закъснях и как въпреки това ме чакаше - Отидох на фризор, за да бъда хубава за теб - Ти не го оцени - Или не ти хареса - Пихме бири заедно - Вървяхме гушнати - Снима кракът ми ( никой не ми беше казвал, че харесва единият ми крак  - Каза, че ще ме научиш да правя палачинки - По- важното , да не ги залепвам - Най-важното, каза – „ Аз ще съм мъжът, който ще те научи как” - Направи ми чай - Докосна ме - Не ти хареса да спя до теб - Прекалено съм ти гореща – каза така. - Събуди ме с кафе. - Не ми писа - Не ме целуна - Покани ме да пътувам с теб - Не успях да се измъкна от работа - Говори с мен по телефона. Дълго  - Не ми вдигна. - Не искаше да ти помогна - Не ми отговори - Видях те да целуваш друга - Плаках много заради теб - Отговори ми грубо - Видях те да целуваш няколко други - Ти донесох торта „Гараш” от Марайа-та  - Тръгна си с мен - Целуна ме - Ми каза „ Не ме целувай така” - Не посмях да ти звънна. Мисля си за вторият път когато ще започнем. От начало to be continued I remebmer the first time when .... "I saw you." "I hugged you." - I kissed you (three times) "I made you happy." - You wrote to me - Invited me to a pastry shop "Compliment me." "You played me music." "You invited me to dinner." "I was annoying." - I was late and how you were still waiting for me "I went to the hairdresser's to be beautiful for you." "You didn't appreciate it." "Or you didn't like it." - We drank beers together "We were walking in a hug." "You were taking pictures of my leg (no one had told me he liked only one of my legs." "You said you would teach me how to make pancakes." - More importantly, how to not stick them - Most importantly, you said - "I will be the man who will teach you how" "You Made me some tea." - You touched me "You didn't like sleeping next to me” "I'm too hot for you," you said. "Wake me up with coffee." You didn't write to me "You didn't kiss me." "Invite me to travel with you." "I couldn't get out of work." "Talk to me on the phone." Long  "You didn't pick me up." "He didn't want me to help you." - you Did not answer "I saw you kiss another." "I cried a lot for you." "You Answered me rudely." "I saw you kiss a few others." "I brought you Garash cake from Mariah." "You went with me." "You kissed me." - You told me "Don't kiss me like that" "I didn't dare to call you." I'm thinking about the second time we'll start. For the first time .... to be continued

about

This album is a result of the IECS’s “Sharing Future” Artist in residence scholarship program, organized by the International Elias Canetti Society, with the kind support of the Danube Rectors’ Conference (DRC) in in Ruse, Bulgaria. Renar's project was selected amongst 44 applications submitted from Europe, Asia, Africa, and Australia. The project proposed was to work together with Bulgarian poets and writers – Mira Dushkova, Yavor Tsanev and Anna - Marie Nikolaeva to the end result of which would turn out to be a soundtrack unique for the city they worked in – Ruse.

credits

released November 5, 2020

Performed and recorded live at the Elias Canetti House, Ruse, Bulgaria, September 2020

Mix: Sara Renar
Additional mix: Vedran Peternel

A big thank you: Mira Dushkova, Yavor Tsanev, Anna - Marie Nikolaeva, Zlatan Stipišić Gibonni, Momchil Mihaylov - Momo

Published by the International Elias Canetti Society 2020.

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Sara Renar Croatia

Sara Renar is a recording and performing artist from Zagreb, Croatia. A former architect with a Master’s degree, she has left her office job to pursue a full time career in music and is praised as one of the best Balkan new generation singer – songwriters with an experimental twist. She is currently working on her fourth studio album. ... more

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