“Miners,” by Zdenka Višković Vukić, contributed by Dino Perusko (2025)
The town of Labin, Croatia, where I am from, has a long history of coal mining. The mining industry shaped the town's identity in the 20th century, with the majority of the town’s population working in the mines. Although it was a hard and dangerous profession, in a poor area with infertile land mining was the only escape from poverty. This meant that people lived in constant fear, anticipating loss as they never knew, when their husbands, sons, or fathers went down into the mines, if they were ever going to come back alive. It is estimated that more than 700 people died in mining disasters, some of whose bodies were never recovered from the mine.
I chose this poem because I think it perfectly captures this uncertain existence, anticipated loss, and the initial response to death. The poem shifts from describing the mines below to describing domestic life above. The danger and the sweetness of this type of life. But, most importantly, it powerfully depicts the loss of a child. From his father’s first-hand perspective in the mine, and his mother’s second-hand notice of her son’s death. In only a few verses and two stanzas, the poet perfectly captures the initial stages of grief: denial, bargaining, and anguish.
Kovarska
by Zdenka Višković Vukić
I.
Crni so karbon
bele ruki noneta
suncu nosile
karbon se crni
tri bele bukanevi
nonina kuća
plamiko ugonj
sić crnega karbona
beli kruh doje
va crneh rukah
loncić belega mleka
teplo do srca
II.
Kat gre va kovo
nono pusti doma stroh
Nona ga cuva
dokle se nono ne torno
Prvo nego gredo va pušteljo
hite ga vonka s kući
Ku ne, ne bi bilo ni moje mami
ni mene
III.
Kapljo
nonetove crne suzi
pomešane s krvljo
S belen facolićen
crno ot karbona
cisti lice prvorojenega sina
Brižna duša do neba vrišće
‘Bože moj, ca son zgreši
da si ze njega, a ne mene?’
I narekova
‘Bože moj, zoc njega, a ne mene?
Zoc njega, Bože moj, a ne mene?’
IV.
Kovari so Marije prišli pravit
‘Muš ti je žif
sin Ti je mrt’
Cetiri so je držali
A da si je sejno nona
poškubla vlosi
mi je pravila mama
Miners
by Zdenka Višković
I.
Black coal did
white grandpa’s hands
carry to the sun
coal is blackening
three white snowdrops
grandma’s house
fire burns
pail of black coal
white bread brings
in black hands
cup of white milk
warm to the heart
II.
When he goes to the mine
grandpa leaves fear at home
Grandma takes care of it
until grandpa returns
Before they go to bed
They throw it out of the house
If not, there would be no mother of mine
nor me
III.
Drop of
grandpa’s black tear
mixed with blood
With white handkerchief
black from the coal
cleans the face of the firstborn son
Poor soul to the sky screams
‘My God, what have I sinned
that you took him, and not me?’
And laments
‘My God, why him, and not me?
Why him, my God, and not me?
IV.
Miners came to tell Marija
‘Your husband is alive,
your son is dead’
Four held her
And still grandma
tore her hair out
my mom told me
This page has paths:
- Acknowledging Loss: Poetry and Prose Louis Zweig