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Poezii RomÔnesti - Romanian Poetry

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the sound of the poem
poetry [ ]
monologue on one string

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
by [Levana ]

2004-09-21  |   

Literary Translation - Translations of classic and original poetry and other materialsThis text is a follow-up  | 



THE SOUND OF THE POEM
monologue on one string

I abandon myself to the reverie of the poem's
violin
I know they belong to me
Both
Like Chagall's violin
The sound of non surrender in the cosmos
Of the non amateurs

The fragile violin
The Jew's canary
As an eternal victim.

2.08.04

if

If you've appeared
And you've settled in your place
And you fit into the too tight shoes
Turn around and look
Deep into my eyes
Leaving your routine,
Just to take my hand
And say:
There still is enough room for you
In the white house of my heart
There's still room
In the concert hall of my soul
There's still room in the amphitheatre torn by
the ages
And for the gladiator in you, and for us, for the
two of us
But lions and scorpions are lurking, be
cautious,
Do not rephrase the sweat of the brow!


Some People

I try to avoid
the parasite people
to not avail
they appear again and again!

they keep coming between
me and my happiness
between me and the dear ones
they keep digging trenches
to chase me away

Besieging me as if I were a castle.


Every Moment

Every minute
every second
My mind is calling for you
every minute every second
My fingers are willing for the touch
Of the word
I'm not asking for the same
And I hope for nothing more
Than you not killing me with the word!

Today

Today I won't cry in selfpity
You're born to be my shield
Of protection from myself
To swallow everyday
My words to chew them
To spit them
In my face sometimes

Today I won't cry in selfpity
I won't lick my wounds...
Your question marks
can't find the expected answer
in between friendly pauses
more and more scattered
through a sort of equillibrium of the divine
abandon
that is blurring even the images of the past
even the place I gave you
somewhere vis-a-vis
of the saturation of words
written compulsory,daily
as a tedious pressure

Chating With Someone

yes, I, too, am chating with someone
with many rifts between us
hurts and uproar
immensities
overlooked
if I only were closer
I would've cursed him between nocturnal
calls
or
I would've suffocated him with the pleasures
of reading

28.07.04







Cami

Australia

21.09.04










.  |










 
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