by Charles Baudelaire, 1857
To lift such a heavy weight,
Sisyphus, your courage would take!
Although we have hearts at work,
Art is long and the time is short.
Far from the more famous sepulchers,
Towards a remote cemetery,
My heart, like a veiled little drummer,
Goes beating on funeral marches.
Many a jewel sleeps buried
In darkness and disregard,
Far from the spades and probes;
Many a flower sadly pours out
Its sweet perfume like a secret
Within the deepest solitude.
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Thursday, September 14, 2023
Monday, October 17, 2022
Story
by Marin Sorescu, 1966
Your soul works with wood,
And mine with electricity.
Your love fills the sky with fumes,
Mine has a flame's purity
Still we shall walk together
A good piece of Earth,
A good piece of Moon,
A good piece of forever.
We'll be happy for the grass
And for the lake,
We'll laugh for the trees,
Praise the straight road with a kiss
And hold a moment of silence
For every turn that we missed.
We'll go by my shadow
That always moves forward,
We'll go by the first thought,
We'll go by two or three words.
Until
Holy Friday will come our way
To tell us among other things
That we are not that young anyways
And she will no longer provide
wood for the fumes
or electricity for the flame.
Your soul works with wood,
And mine with electricity.
Your love fills the sky with fumes,
Mine has a flame's purity
Still we shall walk together
A good piece of Earth,
A good piece of Moon,
A good piece of forever.
We'll be happy for the grass
And for the lake,
We'll laugh for the trees,
Praise the straight road with a kiss
And hold a moment of silence
For every turn that we missed.
We'll go by my shadow
That always moves forward,
We'll go by the first thought,
We'll go by two or three words.
Until
Holy Friday will come our way
To tell us among other things
That we are not that young anyways
And she will no longer provide
wood for the fumes
or electricity for the flame.
Wednesday, March 22, 2017
Beautiful Moment
by Ion Ionescu-Bucovu
the twilight is curling
in angles
the Sun had drowned
in the sea
and Moon between dream
and despair
is riding proudly
the Greater Bear
you sit at the bay
on my shoulder
and let yourself so
gently rocked
and look
as a rainbow
is melting
in the sea
and the sky
descending
wrapping us
in eternities
in the sweet evening
all around us
you see how close
are the silvery stars
the beautiful moment
surrounding us
in a shroud of dreams
(in my arms i can feel it
so light like a gleam)
when starry torches
sew the vault
with flowers
from a flax dress
with silvery threads
with silky threads
the twilight is curling
in angles
the Sun had drowned
in the sea
and Moon between dream
and despair
is riding proudly
the Greater Bear
you sit at the bay
on my shoulder
and let yourself so
gently rocked
and look
as a rainbow
is melting
in the sea
and the sky
descending
wrapping us
in eternities
in the sweet evening
all around us
you see how close
are the silvery stars
the beautiful moment
surrounding us
in a shroud of dreams
(in my arms i can feel it
so light like a gleam)
when starry torches
sew the vault
with flowers
from a flax dress
with silvery threads
with silky threads
Thursday, October 6, 2016
Can Sense
by Lucian Blaga - 1919
Can sense my madness when you hear
Life murmuring in me
Like an old spring
Invading in a sounding cave?
Can sense my flame when in my arms
You tremble like a drop
Of dew hugged
By the rays of light?
Can sense my love when i am watching
With sinful eyes the fault in you
And telling:
Never seen God
So great!?
Can sense my madness when you hear
Life murmuring in me
Like an old spring
Invading in a sounding cave?
Can sense my flame when in my arms
You tremble like a drop
Of dew hugged
By the rays of light?
Can sense my love when i am watching
With sinful eyes the fault in you
And telling:
Never seen God
So great!?
Thursday, July 21, 2016
Things We Are
Lucian Blaga
Things we are among things.
Almost souls we are you and i,
By destiny we are what we are
Things we each carry so far,
Thoughts like stones, sometimes stars
And always desires.
On his own road each
would go forever somewhere,
Would go together, always together
But the road of clouds is too big
In our world altogether.
Things we are among things.
Almost souls we are you and i,
By destiny we are what we are
Things we each carry so far,
Thoughts like stones, sometimes stars
And always desires.
On his own road each
would go forever somewhere,
Would go together, always together
But the road of clouds is too big
In our world altogether.
Wednesday, July 20, 2016
Woman
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.
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.
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.
Friday, June 17, 2016
Song In The Night
Lucian Blaga, 1961
Rocks in my way, always rocks.
No one shows me in the dark.
Up to you there’s not one rock
That still wants to be a rung.
There are rocks and only rocks.
On my wishful path at night,
Hard to please so hard to please
Is the God of rocks tonight.
Long is my way, hour’s high.
Praying God and keep on praying,
Moon to help me in the night
So i get to you my darling.
Thursday, June 2, 2016
Too Late In Paris
by Adrian Păunescu
When i traveled to Paris was late, and too old,
didn't have either luck, either call, either guts,
where i am, i wake up full of wish to take hold
and with painful legs stick myself to the grounds.
Not for me, not a bit of the post modern Hades
me in caves, just right now, i would only find room,
on a stone in a river i wish to set bed,
any travel to Paris seems now a no-won.
Are three quarters in ground those of my generation,
what to do me right here without any of them,
gloriously disabled, near you i should hasten,
and absurdly is calling the madness on drums.
When i traveled to Paris was late and too old
memory has been cleaned, there's a void in it
had been better to taste it when it was forbidden
but today i can't raise from the place where i sit.
And i miss of Brâncuşi, most of all, of Brâncuşi,
if i wasn't too late, just because of a bet,
could have roamed by his windows, or slept at his doors,
for his work could have been just a rock.
I was sentenced to be just Romanian, always,
so good night to the city of eternal light,
when i traveled to Paris was late and too old,
let's go home there's no reason to linger in sight,
too expensive for me to die here on the site.
When i traveled to Paris was late, and too old,
didn't have either luck, either call, either guts,
where i am, i wake up full of wish to take hold
and with painful legs stick myself to the grounds.
Not for me, not a bit of the post modern Hades
me in caves, just right now, i would only find room,
on a stone in a river i wish to set bed,
any travel to Paris seems now a no-won.
Are three quarters in ground those of my generation,
what to do me right here without any of them,
gloriously disabled, near you i should hasten,
and absurdly is calling the madness on drums.
When i traveled to Paris was late and too old
memory has been cleaned, there's a void in it
had been better to taste it when it was forbidden
but today i can't raise from the place where i sit.
And i miss of Brâncuşi, most of all, of Brâncuşi,
if i wasn't too late, just because of a bet,
could have roamed by his windows, or slept at his doors,
for his work could have been just a rock.
I was sentenced to be just Romanian, always,
so good night to the city of eternal light,
when i traveled to Paris was late and too old,
let's go home there's no reason to linger in sight,
too expensive for me to die here on the site.
Thursday, February 18, 2016
We Should Have Been
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.
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.
Thursday, January 1, 2015
The Soul
by Ana Blandiana
The soul is something in us
That can not exist on the outside.
How many times it happened to me
To discover
Naked souls in the grass, agonizing.
Had take them with care in my palm
But never
Could find anybody in time
To receive them in self,
Was feeling the cup of my palm, empty
And a mist, untouched by leaves, passing
Doubtful through my body.
The soul is hiding in us
From God?
The soul is something in us
That can not exist on the outside.
How many times it happened to me
To discover
Naked souls in the grass, agonizing.
Had take them with care in my palm
But never
Could find anybody in time
To receive them in self,
Was feeling the cup of my palm, empty
And a mist, untouched by leaves, passing
Doubtful through my body.
The soul is hiding in us
From God?
Thursday, October 16, 2014
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.
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.
Friday, May 30, 2014
Prayer For Parents
by Adrian Păunescu
Enigmatically quiet
Simply finishing their intents
Next to us they fall and die
Our beloved; our parents.
Call them Lord, just call them there
From their life long misery
Make them young as they once were
Make them younger than we are.
Just for them, for those who made us
Do a miracle or something
Maybe just delay them thus
Maybe they could start again
Cause they just paid with their lives
All the errors of their sons
God please make them live for always
Our beloved dying parents.
Look at them how they just went
Look at them how they're just gone
Candles in a cuckoos' nest
How they're mute and how they snow.
Full of illnesses and pain
We are getting back to earth
As we still are, as they still are,
Comfort them and help your parents.
The ground's getting heavier
Separation even more
I will kiss your hand my dad!
I will kiss your hand my mom!
Why you looking down at us
Our daughter and our son
I am me that's following
I am going too my love.
I would kiss your hand my dad!
I would kiss your hand my mom!
Say farewell to you my son!
Say farewell to you my girl!
You're my father, you're my son,
You're my mother, you're my girl!
Enigmatically quiet
Simply finishing their intents
Next to us they fall and die
Our beloved; our parents.
Call them Lord, just call them there
From their life long misery
Make them young as they once were
Make them younger than we are.
Just for them, for those who made us
Do a miracle or something
Maybe just delay them thus
Maybe they could start again
Cause they just paid with their lives
All the errors of their sons
God please make them live for always
Our beloved dying parents.
Look at them how they just went
Look at them how they're just gone
Candles in a cuckoos' nest
How they're mute and how they snow.
Full of illnesses and pain
We are getting back to earth
As we still are, as they still are,
Comfort them and help your parents.
The ground's getting heavier
Separation even more
I will kiss your hand my dad!
I will kiss your hand my mom!
Why you looking down at us
Our daughter and our son
I am me that's following
I am going too my love.
I would kiss your hand my dad!
I would kiss your hand my mom!
Say farewell to you my son!
Say farewell to you my girl!
You're my father, you're my son,
You're my mother, you're my girl!
Saturday, April 19, 2014
Prayer
By Mihai Eminescu; first published September 1st 1905
Us who by mercy of HolyOn ground casting shadows, only,
Are praying to forbearance,
The morning star of the seas.
Please listen to our grievance,
Thou Sovereign of angels;
And show to us from Heaven,
Your light too pure and pleasant,
Our Mother Too Carrying
And Virgin for Always,
Mary!
Empress by choosing you,
On our knees are begging you
Uplift us and rescue us
From the wave that's haunting us.
Be our shield of strengthening
And our wall of rescuing.
Your adored regarding, thus
Let it descend upon us,
Our Mother Too Carrying
And Virgin for Always,
Mary!
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Yesterday's Light
 |
| Lucian Blaga |
Searching, don't know what i'm searching. I'm searching
a sky from before, the eve of the sunset. How bowed
is my forehead, so destined to raise in the past!
Searching, don't know what i'm searching. I'm searching
those have been auroras, that sprang other times
fountains - today sealed with waters and conquered.
Searching, don't know what i'm searching. I'm searching
an hour gigantic, surviving in me without being
like on a clay jar, a trace of a mouth that's been drinking.
Searching, don't know what i'm searching. Under the yesterday's stars,
Under the past ones, i'm searching
The spent light i'll always keep praising.
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Aquarelle
by Ion Minulescu - 1920
In the city where it always rains three times in seven days
All the citizens on sideways,
Walk by two while holding hands,
In the city where it always rains three times in seven days,
Covered under old umbrellas
Sighing, bending,
Wet from raining,
All the citizens on sideways
Look like automated puppets taken out of the storefronts.
In the city where it always rains three times in seven days
You can only hear on sideways
Steps of those who walk by two,
Counting
In their mind
The falling
Of the raindrops from umbrellas,
From the gutters,
And from sky
With the power of a cry
Giver of a life that's latent,
Useless,
Monotone
And absent.
In the city where it always rains three times in seven days
An old man and an old woman -
Looking like two broken toys -
Walk on sideway hand in hand...
In the city where it always rains three times in seven days
All the citizens on sideways,
Walk by two while holding hands,
In the city where it always rains three times in seven days,
Covered under old umbrellas
Sighing, bending,
Wet from raining,
All the citizens on sideways
Look like automated puppets taken out of the storefronts.
In the city where it always rains three times in seven days
You can only hear on sideways
Steps of those who walk by two,
Counting
In their mind
The falling
Of the raindrops from umbrellas,
From the gutters,
And from sky
With the power of a cry
Giver of a life that's latent,
Useless,
Monotone
And absent.
In the city where it always rains three times in seven days
An old man and an old woman -
Looking like two broken toys -
Walk on sideway hand in hand...
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Ode (In Antique Metre)
by Mihai Eminescu - 1883
Never thought i could learn how to die;
Always young, covered in my mantle,
My serene dreamy eyes were searching the star
Of loneliness.
When suddenly you arose in my path
Sufferance you, painfully sweet...
To the bottom i drank the voluptuous death,
Unforgiving.
Lamentably burning alive like Nessus.
Or like Hercules poisoned by his shirt;
I can't possibly quench my fire with all
Water of the sea.
Of my own dream, consumed i am weeping,
On my own stake, i'm melting in flames...
Can i ever revive shining from it like
The Bird Phoenix?
Disappear the troubling eyes from my path,
Come again to me, sad indifference;
So i can peacefully die, myself
Give back to me!
Never thought i could learn how to die;
Always young, covered in my mantle,
My serene dreamy eyes were searching the star
Of loneliness.
When suddenly you arose in my path
Sufferance you, painfully sweet...
To the bottom i drank the voluptuous death,
Unforgiving.
Lamentably burning alive like Nessus.
Or like Hercules poisoned by his shirt;
I can't possibly quench my fire with all
Water of the sea.
Of my own dream, consumed i am weeping,
On my own stake, i'm melting in flames...
Can i ever revive shining from it like
The Bird Phoenix?
Disappear the troubling eyes from my path,
Come again to me, sad indifference;
So i can peacefully die, myself
Give back to me!
Friday, November 9, 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
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.
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 |