miercuri, 28 martie 2012

pungent bleak


soul, a pungent bleak
hand, dust of light
life, a pungent bleak
your life, light and dust

eyes shot heart with a gyre
which has embraced us in a coalesced fire
crying is a flamboyant desire.

joi, 22 martie 2012

desertaciune


de ce mi-a fost dat mie aceasta inima subreda?
ce se smuceste pentru nemuririle fiecarei emotii, zambet si suspin
caci atunci cand simt desertaciunea, am in mine puterea de a strivi si cea mai importanta primavara
cum sa-mi regasec echilibrul intr-un spatiu atat de zbuciumat
cu mii de zombii care pasesc despuiati prin viata?
unde imi este locul?
cand m-am nascut defapt?
pot sa mor ca sa renasc?

miercuri, 21 martie 2012

mi-e dor sa simt primavara ...

luni, 19 martie 2012

lumina calda a unei maini


asteptand ploaia am vazut cum lumina calda a unei maini ce stie sa razbeasca in viata
aprinde curcubee in praful zilelor lui Marte.

"apa este atat de puternica!
ea imbratiseaza pietrele si continua sa curga* "...








Metafora apartine unui bun prieten Neagu Marius.Multumesc Marius, pentru cuvintele frumoase.

sâmbătă, 17 martie 2012

To Hope


John Keats - To Hope

When by my solitary hearth I sit,
When no fair dreams before my “mind’s eye” flit,
And the bare heath of life presents no bloom;
Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o’er my head.

Whene’er I wander, at the fall of night,
Where woven boughs shut out the moon’s bright ray,
Should sad Despondency my musings fright,
And frown, to drive fair Cheerfulness away,
Peep with the moon-beams through the leafy roof,
And keep that fiend Despondence far aloof.

Should Disappointment, parent of Despair,
Strive for her son to seize my careless heart;
When, like a cloud, he sits upon the air,
Preparing on his spell-bound prey to dart:
Chase him away, sweet Hope, with visage bright,
And fright him as the morning frightens night!

Whene’er the fate of those I hold most dear
Tells to my fearful breast a tale of sorrow,
O bright-eyed Hope, my morbid fancy cheer;
Let me awhile thy sweetest comforts borrow:
Thy heaven-born radiance around me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o’er my head!

Should e’er unhappy love my bosom pain,
From cruel parents, or relentless fair;
O let me think it is not quite in vain
To sigh out sonnets to the midnight air!
Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o’er my head!

In the long vista of the years to roll,
Let me not see our country’s honour fade:
O let me see our land retain her soul,
Her pride, her freedom; and not freedom’s shade.
From thy bright eyes unusual brightness shed—
Beneath thy pinions canopy my head!

Let me not see the patriot’s high bequest,
Great Liberty! how great in plain attire!
With the base purple of a court oppress’d,
Bowing her head, and ready to expire:
But let me see thee stoop from heaven on wings
That fill the skies with silver glitterings!

And as, in sparkling majesty, a star
Gilds the bright summit of some gloomy cloud;
Brightening the half veil’d face of heaven afar:
So, when dark thoughts my boding spirit shroud,
Sweet Hope, celestial influence round me shed,
Waving thy silver pinions o’er my head.

vineri, 16 martie 2012

slant


in genunchi ne vor pedepsi sa ne aplecam oasele deja brodate cu viermi in etapa a treia de viata

ne vor smulge sufletele printre degetele lor negre si rosiatice

iar lacrimile ne vor inunda chipurile si pielea,
trupurile se vor infierbanta sub gemete de durere,
Oh, sentiment al sufocarii nenorocite

caci tot ce te pipaie ajunge sa-ti devoreze carnea
iar de ne vor implora sa le rostim Iertare

vom tace nesfarsit caci stii si tu ca infernul
ne va fi cenusa maladiva.












Cum e posibil sa crezi ca a muri e mai usor decat a trai?

luni, 12 martie 2012

Vanator tihnit

Surasul tau,
un vanator tihnit de spirite purpurii.


mustul iubit,
buzele mele il degustau
primavara din namolul cu radacini firave de vita de vie

cai cenusii alergau pe razele unui muritor tainic,
soarele si
prin talpile mele crude ieseau firele de iarba albastra de pe marginea lacului.

atat de mult apartin surasului tau,
un vanator tihnit de spirite purpurii.

duminică, 11 martie 2012

pamant










esti pamant prin venele mele
dai nastere matasurilor pe pielea mea
sunt cerul care iti atinge radacinile
dau nastere Actelor pure dinauntrul hexagonal al spatiilor noastre.

miercuri, 7 martie 2012

We have not long to love


We have not long to love
by Tennessee Williams

We have not long to love.
Light does not stay.
The tender things are those
we fold away.
Coarse fabrics are the ones
for common wear.
In silence I have watched you
comb your hair.
Intimate the silence,
dim and warm.
I could but did not, reach
to touch your arm.
I could, but do not, break
that which is still.
(Almost the faintest whisper
would be shrill.)
So moments pass as though
they wished to stay.
We have not long to love.
A night. A day....

luni, 5 martie 2012

un suflet face salturi de balerin in spuma razelor de soare
primavara ii mangaie suav bataturile talpilor sale...

duminică, 4 martie 2012

suflet de lut


o lacrima cade pe pieptul oceanului pe care tu astazi l-ai calcat apasat...
nimfele iti dansau si tu ca un orb nu mai zareai culoarea lor, nu mai simteai valurile, ca o umbra ai calcat pe apa vietii.
spune-mi, suflet de lut tu nu auzi ecoul viorii din inima oceanului pe care tu astazi l-ai calcat apasat
?