We Should Have Been

by Ana Blandiana

We should have been born old,

And come wise,
Able to pick our fate in the world,
Knowing our way since the primary crossroad,
Be irresponsible only in our wish to walk.
Then become younger (by walking),
Mature and strong at the gate of creation,
Passing it through and in love adolescents,
Be children at birth of our sons.
They will be then older than us, anyways,
Would teach us to talk, would rock us to sleep,
We'll disappear more and more, become small,
Like the pearl of a grape, like a pea, like a wheat seed.

Star Brought By Wind

by Ana Blandiana

From the begining you've been brought by wind
Like a seed.
I've even been jocking. "Who ever saw
A star brought by wind?"
Only later,
When you stood on my forehead
And started germinating
I realized that you are a seed.
Greedy, stuck wildly in my brain,
With coarse rays figuring roots,
You're a seed. Too bad
Cause the plant which,
Like light from light, you are growing
Cannot be seen
Until after i'm darkened.

I Do Not Crush

By Lucian Blaga - 1919

I do not crush world's corolla of wonders
And do not kill
With my mind mysteries i meet
In my own path
In flowers, eyes or lips or graves.
Let others' light
Choke all the magic of the unseen hidden
In darkness' depth
But i,
I with my light enhance world's riddle -
Exactly how with its pale rays the Moon
Does not decrease but trembling
Increases even more night's secret
The same way i enrich the dark horizon
With shivers large of holy mystery
And all misunderstandings
Turn to some even greater ones
Under my eyes -
Cause i love all
The flowers, eyes and lips and graves.

Impossible Wedding

by Adrian Păunescu

Confidants, my mountains entered in the fog
Old bells made of bronze ring on abbey's roofs
When it smells like winter all the weddings froze
For us lunatics, impossible grooms.

Winds and beasts together come at you to pray
Blizzard over me fallen like a noose
I would make your wedding with a town of sleighs
Driven among lanterns with the starry horses.

Dress in white, my bride, beautifully shine
This is how it should for the play i play
Later each of us will be going home
Closed among the hills mystery will stay.

'Till all this will happen you'll be growing gray
All for me will come in the later day
It will be some wedding, we should have no fear
You'll take care of me, i will love you, dear.

Here i brought your bride, mountains closed with night
Weddings of the beasts happen in the mountains
Forests made of scents, wood that's made of sighs
Are the dancing hall of the future wedding.

Candles of the wedding in their paws the bears
Wolves are blowing in (the) fire of the sheepfold
In the rolling down we're unite by birth
You won't be my bride, i won't be your husband.

I invite you all to the wedding blue
Where the bells are pulling silver out of blue
Is too bad, for this isn't our wedding
Is too bad, to death i've been given husband.

47 Eagle Crest, Lake Oswego

Songs I Keep Forgetting

Songs that don't raise any controversy in my mind anymore. Songs so nice and soul soothing i prefer to forget and lock down in my heart so they keep me warm inside

Still Have

Mihai Eminescu - 1883

Still have a single sigh:
In silence of the night
I beg to let me die
Near sea at the low tide;
And let my sleep be calm
And forests be nearby,
On stretched waters' balm
I'll have the clearest sky
I don’t need any flags,
Don’t want a coffin rich,
Just plait for me a rug
From the trees’ youngest branches.

And no one needs to weep
Or show the smallest grief,
Just let the autumn speak
With wet and falling leaves.
And while with noise sway
The springs among the cliffs,
The Moon will slip away
On the long tops of firs.
The cowbells pierce near sea
The colder evening wind,
My holy linden tree
Above will start to swing.

As i won’t wander off
Since then for evermore,
My memories, with love
Will snow on me galore
The Morning-Evening Stars
As then will be my friends,
Through branches of the firs
Would smile at me again.
Will moan with all the hurts
The ocean’s coarse caress...
As i will become dirt
In my last loneliness.

Landslide

Hope i'm not drunk or somehting while i write this i don't understand all the words in this song as i did not read the lyrics yet. Ok here they are:

I took my love and I took it down
I climbed a mountain and I turned around

And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills
'Till the landslide brought me down

Oh, mirror in the sky
What is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail thru the changing ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Mmm Mmm...

Well, I've been afraid of changing
'Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Children get older
I'm getting older too
(Gutiar solo)

Well, I've been afraid of changing
'Cause I, I built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Children get older
I'm getting older too
I'm getting older too

So, take my love, take it down
Oh climb a mountain and turn around
If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well the landslide will bring you down, down

And If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well maybe the landslide will bring it down
Oh oh, the landslide will bring it down


What's more to say? That it gives me the shivers every time when i see and hear this ice cold northern fairy, Stevie Nicks, together with her golden fingered guitar man, Lindsey Buckingham?

best of times, worst of times

Song Of A Young Miner

Otilia Valeria Coman

Today i floated, lover, on greater bluish waters,
So you can squeeze the shirt that moulded on my spine,
And on the waters i have been thinking of our hearts,
But you've been calling - can turn me any time!
And then, i came back from the waters,
And here is my proof - a handful of shells.

Today i roamed, my lover, through forests deep and seas,
The hidden paths were tearing the clothes i had on me.
And in the big woods i have been thinking of our eyes,
But you've been calling - your call went right through me;
And then, i came back from the big woods,
And here is my proof - a handful of leaves.

Today i lost me, lover, through big layers of time
From my face wipe me, lover, the dark and my years too,
It almost seemed i walked millennia with you,
But you've been calling - your voice came faint to me
And i got scared i won't be back in time,
And started pushing forward the piles big of time
Towards the future - and here i am at you.

Keep Portland Weird

https://www.google.com/search?q=keep+portland+weird&source=lnms&tbm=isch&gws_rd=ssl

"Wyrd is a concept in Anglo-Saxon culture roughly corresponding to fate or personal destiny. The word is ancestral to Modern English weird, which retains its original meaning only dialectically."

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wyrd

Ethics in Germanic Neopaganism are guided by a concept of personal ørlög or wyrd, encompassing the notions of both fate and luck. The belief in Wyrd — a concept of fatalism or determinism,[12] similar to some Graeco-Roman concepts of destiny is a commonly held belief amongst most Germanic Neopagans.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Germanic_neopaganism

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/17/Amulet_Thor%27s_hammer_%28copy_of_find_from_Sk%C3%A5ne%29_2010-07-10.jpg

I Am Radical

by Adrian Păunescu - Aug, 1, 1988

I am radical
more precisely
i am for keeping
of a right balance
between lie and truth,
between heroes and heroes
between plus and minus,
i am radical,
more precisely,
i am getting sick of the socialist demagogy
more than
of the bourgeois demagogy
because i feel it
pressing from much closer.

I am radical,
i think it is not good, the law
that punishes you more severely
if you kill a bear
than if you kill a man,
and even more,
punishes you more severely
if you speak,
if you have opinions,
than if you kill.

I am radical,
that is i imagine
if the equation
"the people have chosen us
we speak in the name of the people,
we govern in the name of the people,
we build the socialism
with the people and for the people,"
is true,
it is not right
to destroy of the man
his house, his town or village,
without asking the man;
ten students have declared at school,
when the teacher asked them
what good deeds have they done,

in that day,
they helped an old woman
cross the street
but why so many,
the teacher wondered
because the old woman
didn't want to cross the street
they answered.

About this would be the situation
i am radical
and i look in the face,
if the old woman doesn't want to cross the street
it is difficult
to sell yourself
best among others
because you force her to cross,
and things are just like this
the old woman doesn't want
to cross the street.
the old woman is not on the street,
there isn't even a street,
and the old woman isn't even old
but just a nervous country
that would have to cross.

I am radical,
that is i am terrified
by the remorses
that can not save anything anymore
especially the life
that stubborns anyway
for the past few generations
to go to hell.

I am radical
i like prunes, peaches,
summer apples, freedom,
the woman, the historical frontiers,
and incense flavored grapes.

I am radical,
i could dictate a poem
even from a public phone,
but i am radical also
if i mention that
i could do this
only if the one
to whom i dictate
would have a phone.

I am radical,
i believe that Marshall Ion Antonescu
if he would be re-judged
by an impartial tribunal
would be declared
without hesitation,
hero post mortem of Romania
and universal martyr
at least after the reading
of the Ribbentrop-Molotov Pact.

I am radical,
i believe in the value of cabbage leaf
applied in painful areas
of the body.

I am radical
i don't believe it exists
a more ugly angel
and a more beautiful demon
than man
and, even more that that,
i don't believe it exists
a more fruitful accident
and a more contradictory law
than man.

From myself
and from the others
i extract the square root
and i realize it is only water,
water in a state of thought,
water with soul and whirls,
water, in an incurable
chemical formula.

I am radical,
when it rains
and when it snows
and when they talk about me,
about the water that i am,
about the water that i am.

click me!

Love Poem

by Ana Blandiana

we each carry only one love in us
but mine is for you and yours... for another.
and fire consumes both of us
but i burn for you and you... for another
i wait for a word, you wait for a word
but me from you and you... from another.
i see in your sleep your face ravishing
but you in your dream still see the other...
and what still remains when destiny knows just
to part us?
don't you have pity? we just live to love, although you another
but i still... you!

Silence

by Lucian Blaga - 1924

There's so much silence in the air i think i hear
the moon rays hitting in the windows.

Inside
a foreign voice awoke
and sings a song of wish
that isn't mine.

They say the ancestors who died without age,
with young blood still in veins,
with passions left in blood,
with living Sun in passions,
come,
come to live again
in us
their unlived life.

There's so much silence in the air i think i hear
the moon rays hitting in the windows.

Oh, who knows - soul, in what chest you will sing
you too again over the ages
on chords of silence sweet,
of harp of darkness, choked desires
and broken joy of living? Who knows?
Who knows?

May Green

The Earth

by Lucian Blaga - 1919

On our back we were lying in the grass: you and i.
The sky melted like wax in the burning of the Sun
flowing along the fields like a river.
Pressing silence was mastering the Earth
and a question fell through my soul to its bottom.

Wouldn't have to tell
anything the Earth? All this-Earth
unforgivingly large and killingly mute,
nothing?

To better hear it i pressed my ear
Against the ground - doubtful and obedient -
And from underground i heard
your heart's noisy beat.

The Earth was answering.

Do You Remember The Beach?

by Ana Blandiana

Do you remember the beach
Covered with bitter shivers
On which
We couldn't walk barefoot?
The way you were looking at the sea
Pretending listening me?
Do you remember
The hysterical gulls
Wheeling in the ringing
Of the unseen bells of a church
Celebrations with fish,
The way in which
You were furthering running
Towards the sea
And yelling you needed
The distance
So you just can see me
The snowing
Was dimming
Mixed with birds in the water
With almost joyful despair
Was watching
The tracks of your feet in the sea
And the sea
Was closing like an eyelid
Over the eye in which i was waiting.

The Only Thing That Matters

by Lucian Avramescu

the woman is the only thing that matters
and i affirm this knowing that plenty
would raise their eyebrows...
her skin knows all the languages of the universal happiness,
glued to her, like to the earth,
i understand constellations, heaven and hell,
joy and sorrow;
the walking through myself
does me better and better
not to speak anymore
about the architecture of self or the one
that makes dim all the great cathedrals of the world
San Pedro, The Dome of Milan...

the woman is the only thing that matters
with her body in your arms
you can cross an ocean
even if you don't know how to swim
except in the waters of her eyes

without woman
our limo is only a broken carriage
and the bank account is smaller even if gets bigger
the friends are
full of the fever of treason
tapdoles are swimming in the most expensive wine

oh ay
the robin is singing in the top of your bosom
you happily dress in prison's clothes
like you were going to a wedding
count the coins on the sky
like a universal nabob
even if the wind is blowing through your social buttonholes:
the train runs over you
and a whisper, if left whole
follows the letters of her name
ready to weave plans for the future
when nearby a luxury morgue is lurking

the woman, gentlemen, is the only thing
that cannot be replaced except by its own self
her skin knows all the languages
of the universal happiness,
the circle of illusions
is her currency
through which we win the world crises
that's why i believe
her science
to make us happy and unhappy
gives you the title of
doctor honoris causa
of our complicated soul algebra.

the woman, gentlemen - not to bother you anymore -
the woman with her skin
which teaches us the alphabet of the blind,
with her always up side down cups of her breasts
in which we never read anything
the woman
with all the silverware of her smile
or her bareness that fills the universe
is the only thing that matters
gentlemen

The Actors

by Marin Sorescu

The most daring - the actors!
With their sleeves rolled up
They really know how to live (for) us!
Never seen a more perfect kiss
Like of the actors in the third act,
When sentiments start to clarify

Their death on the scene is so natural,
That compared to its perfection,
Those in graveyards,
The real dead,
Tragically, forever dead,
They seem to move!

And us, still in our only life!
Not even this one know how to live.
Talking small or being silent for years,
Embarrassed and unaesthetic,
And (we) don't know where the hell to keep our hands.

If I’m Not Asking Too Much

By Marin Sorescu

- What would you take with you

If you had an opportunity
To commute daily between heaven and hell
Just to teach some classes?

- A book, a bottle of wine and a woman, Lord,
If i’m not asking too much.

- You are asking too much, We’ll take the woman.
She would talk too much,
Fill your head with small things,
And you wouldn’t have the time to prepare your classes.

- Lord, i beg of You, take my book,
I will write it myself, if i had beside me
A bottle of wine and a woman.
That’s what i wish, if i’m not asking too much.

- You are asking too much.

- What would you take with you

If you had an opportunity

To commute daily, between heaven and hell

Just to teach some classes?

- A bottle of wine and a woman, Lord,

If i’m not asking too much.

- You’ve asked that before, why are you stubborn?

It is too much, I told you, We take the woman.

- What do You have with her, why so much persecution?

Better take my wine,

It softens me and i couldn’t prepare my classes,

Getting inspiration from the eyes of my lover.

Silence, long minutes,

Maybe even eternities,

Letting me time for forgetting.

- What would you take with you

If you had an opportunity

To commute daily between heaven and hell

To teach some classes?

- A woman, Lord,

If i’m not asking too much.

- You are asking too much, We’ll take the woman.

- Then better take my classes,

Take my heaven and hell,

All or nothing,

I would commute between heaven and hell for no reason.

How could i scare and frighten the sinners in hell

If i didn’t have the woman, as teaching material, to show them?

How could i uplift the right ones in heaven,

If i didn’t have the book to translate to them?

How could i stand the trip and the differences

In temperature, luminosity and pressure

Between heaven and hell

If i didn’t have the wine to give me the courage?

The Wheel

By Marin Sorescu

I live in a wheel.

I can realize it
By the trees.
Every time i look through the window
I can see them
With the leaves in the sky,
Or on the ground.

And by the birds
That fly with a wing in the south
And with a wing in the north.

And by the Sun
That today rises in my left eye,
And tomorrow in the right one.

And by me
Who sometimes i am
And sometimes i am not anymore.