Issue 61 | Translated Poetry | August 2025

‘summer holiday’ & Other Poems

ognjenka lakićević

Translated from Serbian by Rachael Daum

Translation Notes

In addition to being a poet, ognjenka lakićević (who prefers, when the informality allows, her name written without capital letters, and always writes poetry without them) is also the lead vocalist of the Belgrade-based band Autopark. To me, her poetry has an alternative rock quality. These poems are taken from her collection Vodič kroz požare (Fire Safety Instructions), which deals in large part with the pain of growing up, putting it into the context of adult relationships and travel—all with a line of fire, by turns destructive and cleansing, running solidly through it. (ognjenka’s name is derived from the Old Church Slavonic word “ogаnj,” meaning “fire.”)

A special pleasure in translating ognjenka’s poetry is teasing out the grammar: as a non-native speaker of Serbian, I occasionally experience the verses clumping together in case and cadence (word order is less strict in Serbian than in English). It is especially satisfying to tease out the knot, placing the finger on the right string, and witness the threads coming undone and orderly. At times I have drastically reworked lines and line breaks, and I treasure my luck in working with ognjenka directly, for her feedback and her responsiveness to my reworkings.

ognjenka’s confessional, conversational tone brings its own set of challenges for me as a translator: how to spin out these emotions in English, not just translating across languages, but across time, across life stages? That set of questions, however, also holds the key to translating. It is tempting to ask, what is it like to be called in for dinner in another language and in a country that no longer exists? But that question misses precisely the point—ognjenka’s poetry and experience are accessible across those gaps. Who, after all, has not been that lonely child on the sidelines?

—Rachael Daum

summer holiday

i can’t breathe

i can hear my pulse

echoing through the mattress

the thought that comforts me:

death has come

but death comes bit by bit

death is a memory at breakfast in a pine forest

near the beach

a wisp of your hair brushed the bottle of yogurt

it was only as you got ready to leave

i thought how at last

everything i need is here

the crumbs fell and fed the ants.

complicated grief

we’ll never get out of here alive

i’ve always been thinking

about how to hack the inevitability of the end

i know how

we’ll resolve our family illnesses

your absence

my presence

we aren’t to blame for our genes

or all the chronicles of family neuroses

we’re to blame if they win

i tell you in the voice

of my mother

as you look at me

with the uninterested gaze

of your father

already planning a new business trip

from the door

he’ll toss you some tenderness

and best wishes

then he’ll wash his hands

be dear to you

as you’ll be to me

just throw the fire

into your palms

wipe off your hands

i’ll try to infect you with fire

but the tumult of my yearning

will remind you of the drama with your mother

of the childhood you always ran away from

you’ll have to get moving

distance reminds you of home

and from fire

i’ll build a house

with pictures on the walls

coasters for cups

and a trombone in a case

new year’s cookies and a christmas tree

and your tracksuit on the shelf

and those little lights from ikea i turned on

shining through the tree

a soft fire in trembling leaves

to show you the way home

but it’s too warm

you’ve withdrawn

the cold reminds you of home

and maybe i know how to hack life

but

someone always leaves

before death does.

repulsive love

it was from fear my grandmother uttered

the sentences that made my mother

weak

the body remembers autoimmune shades:

fear is stronger

than love

i was spoken to

none too tenderly

to toughen me up

never too crudely

my skin softened

i changed utterly

into a mucosa

that’s why i don’t play nice with others

i didn’t join in

on school events

i think i would have fainted

standing in front of all those people

so eager for attention

i wanted to be invisible

i never managed to divine the rules

i depend on

each morning

a painstakingly prepared breakfast:

fresh pressed orange juice

and an extra helping of criticism

as the greatest sign of love

and a caress of my hair

i’m difficult

and inexorable toward others

at the end of the day compassion breaks me

never for myself

what do i know about love

i fell in love with you

because you knew what it was like

not wanting to go home after school

i don’t want to know only just enough

to get by

in school i dreamt how

one day i’d meet someone with a softness

in manner like yours

someone who has everything i don’t have

gather themselves into a blot

anarchy of the body gives way to

despair

forgive me, i’d tell you

but that would be a luxury

i never forgive myself

even one transgression

you should stay away from me

sometimes at night i let everything

fall asleep at the wheel in the twilight

it’s the loveliest fantasy

your facebook wall

is the saddest place on earth.

Acknowledgements

Cover Image

Image credits:  © Autopark! It is a pleasure to credit ognjenka lakićević’s alternative rock band. We “borrowed” the image from a scene in one of their songs. Which song? Glad you asked. This one: Autookean.  But wait. Get a snifter, pour, swirl it gently, hit play, go over to a window, and unfurl those melancholy thoughts.

Translator | Rachael Daum

Translator Photo

Rachael Daum was awarded a 2021 PEN/Heim Translation Fund Grant for her translation from Serbian of Dejan Atanacković’s Luzitanija (Lusitania). She is the translator from Croatian of Ivana Sajko’s The Story of a Man Who Collapsed Into His Notebook (Fraktura, 2023), and from Russian of Natalia Rubanova’s «Зашибись!» (Letters to Robot Werther; Carrion Bloom Books, 2021).

She holds an MA in Slavic Studies (Indiana University) and BA in Creative Writing (University of Rochester); she also received Certificates in Literary Translation from both institutions. Rachael translates from Serbian, Russian, and German, and is the Communications and Awards Director for the American Literary Translators Association (ALTA). She lives and works in Cologne, Germany.

Author | ognjenka lakićević

Author Photo

ognjenka lakićević (b. 1975) was born in Belgrade, Serbia, where she is a celebrated poet and musician. She studied English in the University of Belgrade’s Faculty of Philology. She has published five collections of poetry, and she is the lead singer of the alternative rock band Autopark. In addition to her work as a family therapist, she holds poetry workshops and is an animal rights activist.