I. Kiss in the Palm
Is it a sin if I can imagine
Though I have never been, that I could be your lover?
Not just any of them, all in a hurry
To melt under you like the last snow,
But one who can wait and weep...
Placing just a kiss, a nail, in your left hand
In which memory beats with a sledge hammer.
Till it pierces your flesh, like Jesus Christ’s.
My mouth is just
A red rose opening
Under the fiery breath of your lips.
Then how should I dare
Race you anywere?!
What if you are earth,
What if you are strong,
What if you are younger,
What if you caress me as I can never
Caress you: inside?
We have only one weapon in common:
Who will sing best.
I. Evening Plane
The silver dragon fly trembles in the car again,
The evening plane.
A smoke, a dense silence float
Behind, over the whole town.
At one time I awaited the Evening-Plane...
The museum of memories keeps
Details unhealed ever since:
A flower crushed by a step. A bee.
A lost child. Dead phones
In the open post office, so alien.
At one time I ran towards Love
In new sandals made of impatience.
Now I feel ashamed:
I am like an old woman who can hardly
II. In Childhood
The handcuffs of his hands on my ankles
I can still feel;
Although I am losing the time
When a boy
My small palms –
Two golden epaulets –
Pressed them on my shoulders and shouted:
– I am
The master of the world!
I. The Short Poem of My Long Life
I do not have the gift of being rich.
Even less that of being happy.
And yet once upon a time
My heart filled up:
Was it love or poetry?
It’s all the same! I might as well die.
If I am still alive, it’s only to describe
The longing for that longing mood.
II. Like a Peasant
I sowed basil one sacred Friday noon.
Like a peasant.
I watered it with my mouth.
Thinking of God and Love,
As if they were one!
Here it flowers! Here I am
Basil in my breast!
Like a peasant.
Wanted and willing.
Be the first to smell me, my God!
(Traducere de Lidia VIANU)