by Lucian Blaga
what sea do carry in your soul and who are you?
Sing one more time your wish,
to listen you
and seconds to resemble buds
From which eternities will bloom for real.
Wednesday, July 20, 2016
Eve
Lucian Blaga, 1919
When Serpent gave Eve the apple, he talked
with a voice that sounded
From within leaves like a silver bell.
But it also happened he whispered then
something in her ear too
softly, untellable softly,
something not told even in scriptures.
Not even God heard what exactly he whispered
Though he was listening too
And Eve didn't want to tell Adam also.
Ever since, the woman hides under her eyelid a secret
and moves her eyebrow like telling
she knows something
we all don't,
and nobody knows,
not even God.
When Serpent gave Eve the apple, he talked
with a voice that sounded
From within leaves like a silver bell.
But it also happened he whispered then
something in her ear too
softly, untellable softly,
something not told even in scriptures.
Not even God heard what exactly he whispered
Though he was listening too
And Eve didn't want to tell Adam also.
Ever since, the woman hides under her eyelid a secret
and moves her eyebrow like telling
she knows something
we all don't,
and nobody knows,
not even God.
Thursday, June 23, 2016
The She Cricket
Lucian Blaga, 1964
Heavy all, the time, the step.
Heavy start and heavy stop.
Heavy dust and heavy air,
Hard on shoulder, hard to bear.
But the heaviest of all
Is the end of path, the fall.
Just to bring peace to my heart
Chirps she cricket in the the hearth:
Lighter than a life so harsh
It's the ash only the ash.
Heavy all, the time, the step.
Heavy start and heavy stop.
Heavy dust and heavy air,
Hard on shoulder, hard to bear.
But the heaviest of all
Is the end of path, the fall.
Just to bring peace to my heart
Chirps she cricket in the the hearth:
Lighter than a life so harsh
It's the ash only the ash.