POEME ROMÂNESTI ÎN LIMBI STRĂINE

Tudor ARGHEZI

 

Mouldy Flowers

 

I scratched these lines in a bare recess,

In darkness and in bitter loneliness,

My nail toiling against the plaster,

With weakened powers, less than faster,

So very helpless and deserted by those

Bulls, lions, eagles working around so close

To Luke and Mark as well as John.

They’re but rhymes of years long past and gone

They’re verses on the brink of graves,

Of thirst for water, of last craves,

Of hunger after ashes –

The poem that now flashes.

When my angelic nail got blunted

I let it go again, unstunted,

And even so it simply failed to grow –

Or what there grew I failed toknow.

 

So dark it was. The distant whip of rain was lashing outdoors.

My hand was aching like some ailing claws,

In want of strength to clench anew – whereupon

I strove to write with the nails of my left hand anon.

 

(English version: Gabriela PACHIA)