Don’t go with your hair wet
(to the city centre)
to meet the girl
who is twice younger
than your driver’s licence.
Don’t go with your hair wet
to all the bars of the world
(Why do you dress up at all
when even the sparrows know
what kind of unpresentable mess you’ll be
upon your return two days later.)
Don’t go out with your hair wet
to face the heavy-weight champion,
the spring carnival,
the sunset cocktails,
and do not go out on Mondays, by all means.
Don’t go out with your hair wet
to our former small town,
with friends who are no longer there,
with girls who are already grandmothers,
with the ghosts of the 60-ties.
Don’t go out with your hair wet
into this automobile desert.
Facing those gusty winds
with the sun soaring over you
and the dogs barking behind you.
Don’t go out with your hair wet
don’t stroll by the bookstore in flames,
by the tourist agencies,
by the black shoeshines,
don’t go out to get the cigarettes, no way!
Don’t go out with your hair wet,
you might catch a cold.
Translated from the Croatian by Damir Šodan