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17th Translation Contest: "The Sounds of Silence" » English to Serbian » Entry by mariakgs


Source text in English

Translation by mariakgs (#23312)

A theme of the age, at least in the developed world, is that people crave silence and can find none. The roar of traffic, the ceaseless beep of phones, digital announcements in buses and trains, TV sets blaring even in empty offices, are an endless battery and distraction. The human race is exhausting itself with noise and longs for its opposite—whether in the wilds, on the wide ocean or in some retreat dedicated to stillness and concentration. Alain Corbin, a history professor, writes from his refuge in the Sorbonne, and Erling Kagge, a Norwegian explorer, from his memories of the wastes of Antarctica, where both have tried to escape.

And yet, as Mr Corbin points out in "A History of Silence", there is probably no more noise than there used to be. Before pneumatic tyres, city streets were full of the deafening clang of metal-rimmed wheels and horseshoes on stone. Before voluntary isolation on mobile phones, buses and trains rang with conversation. Newspaper-sellers did not leave their wares in a mute pile, but advertised them at top volume, as did vendors of cherries, violets and fresh mackerel. The theatre and the opera were a chaos of huzzahs and barracking. Even in the countryside, peasants sang as they drudged. They don’t sing now.

What has changed is not so much the level of noise, which previous centuries also complained about, but the level of distraction, which occupies the space that silence might invade. There looms another paradox, because when it does invade—in the depths of a pine forest, in the naked desert, in a suddenly vacated room—it often proves unnerving rather than welcome. Dread creeps in; the ear instinctively fastens on anything, whether fire-hiss or bird call or susurrus of leaves, that will save it from this unknown emptiness. People want silence, but not that much.
Glavna tema današnjice, barem u razvijenom delu sveta, je ljudska težnja za tišinom koju nikako da pronadju. Saobraćajna buka, beskonačna zvonjava telefona, zvučne najave u autobusima i vozovima, televizori koji rade čak i u praznim kancelarijama predstavljaju beskonačan napad na naše sive ćelije. Ljudska rasa se nalazi u rascepu između svakodnevne izloženosti buci i žudnjom za njenom suprotnošću – da li u prirodi, na otvorenom moru, ili u nekim skrivenim krajevima posvećenim miru i dubokoj koncetraciji. Alan Korbin, profesor istorije, piše iz svog skrivenog mesta u Sorboni, a Erling Kage, norveški istraživač, se u svojim memoarima seća nepreglednih prostranstava Antartika, obojica pokušavajući da nadju svoj mir i pribežište na ovim mestima.

Ipak, kako je to rekao g. Korbin u svojoj „Istoriji tišine“ danas verovatno nema ništa više buke nego što je i bilo u nekim ranijim periodima. Pre pojave pneumatskih guma, ulice su bile prepune zaglušujućeg zvuka točkova optočenih metalnim okvirima i topota konjskih potkovica po kamenim ulicama. Pre dobrotvorne izolacije uz mobilne telefone, autobusi i vozovi su brujali od ljudskog razgovora. Prodavci novina nisu svoju „robu“ stavljali da nemo čeka svoga kupca već su je oglašavali što su glasnije mogli, kao i prodavci trešanja, ljubičica i sveže skuše. Pozorište i opera bili su poprište ovacija ali i negodovanja. Čak i u selima bi seljaci pevali u toku veoma napornog rada. Više ne pevaju.

Ono što se promenilo nije samo nivo buke, na šta su se ljudi u prošlim vekovima takodje žalili, već nivo i dubina poremećaja čija bi altrenativa mogla biti tišina. Tu dolazimo do još jednom paradoksa, kada tišina i zavlada nekim prostorom – u dubinama borovih šuma, u ogololeloj pustinji, u iznenada slobodnoj sobi – više izaziva nespokoj nego mir. Jeza se polako uvlači u kosti, uho instinktivno šeli da čuje bilo kakav zvuk, da li pucketanje vatre ili zvižduk ptica ili šuštanje lišća koji će ga spasiti od te nepoznate praznine. Da, ljudi žele tišinu, ali ne baš toliko jako.


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