Kolenič, Ivan: Happiness (Šťastie Angol nyelven)

Vždy som túžil vlastniť nejaké malé väzenie,
áno, príjemný útulný priestor,
stačilo by mi len niekoľko všivavých metrov,
áno, áno, strašne by som chcel
svoje súkromné väzenie,
s poškriabanými stenami, s nápismi smrť a nuda,
a s hajzľovou misou bez dosky,
so studenými kachličkami,
ktoré vyšliapali bosé nohy odsúdeného,
s nikdy sa nezatvárajúcim oknom – aká zima.
Len zima a zima a zima!

Ó, kto by nechcel skvelú kamennú celu,
s fizľom a obuškom.
S úzkym pásikom svetla,
presvitajúcim cez malé okienko na dverách...

I have always longed to own a small jail,
yes, a pleasant cosy space,
just a few lousy metres would do,
yes, yes, I'd really like
my own private jail,
with the walls scrawled all over, with the graffiti, death and bored
and the bog pan without a seat,
with cold tiles
worn down by the bare feet of a convict,
with a never-closing window - so cold.
Just cold and cold and cold!

Oh, who wouldn't want a splendid stone cell,
with a cop and his truncheon.
With a narrow strip of light
shining through the shutter on the door...