Carolina ILICA


DOUBLE POEMS / Poeme Duble

I. „Calea Victoriei”
Crooked, „Calea Victoriei”
Seen from above. Anthill.
You breathe too closely. You breathe down
My temple, quickly, then calmly.

This burning heat
Softens something in me:
Distance, silence, pride?
The skill, the art to deny?

There is so much sadness in the world!
But sometimes you need
So little, here we are, to forget...
So little, here we are, to die.

II. Love
For years I have been a prisoner in your goals
Love, lustful empress!
The flowers of my cheek are pale.
But the longing heart is purer.

I am not strong enough to oppose;
Even if I were, I could not, not openly.
Instead of cursing you and damning,
I praise you, doomed for life.

You play with me in the daytime, you leave me
On my own, a kind of freedom
The large city gives to the crowd.

But at night you chase and lay me down,
Forcing me to please you in everyting...
You buy and sell me for a dime

I. Hay Stacks
Hay stacks, wild, silky breasts
Sweet aroma. They bear nakedness
Shamelessly; heavy and separated;
By nobody stroked or kissed.

From another world,
  pure and august,
As at the breast of a sinful nurse,
Tiny little stars are coming: smell and taste.

II. Snails
Steeped in softness like a beginning of the world
Cold, vegetal slowness.
When they feel and taste at once,
The leaves sink in sliminess.

They are primitive. Sensual, too. So
Slowly, voluptuously, shamelessly
Empty and fill their crammed shells
As if they were making love to themselves.

I. Exquisitely
Sunken eyes, pale faced,
I was at the window, waiting.
Outside it was raining carefully.

And the rain stuck to the panes.
In your turn, at another window,
You were waiting for somebody else:
Who may have been waiting

For someone who was waiting for me.

The winding chain! Links
Closing in upon one another.
Let us call it exquisitely:

Unrequited love!

II. In Your Eyes
In your eyes am I only
A flower in another flower’s shadow?
When the sky is low and grim,
The petals lock themselves in sepals.

If you were to pick me up in your hand,
Like the lotus I should suddenly open:
At first shameless and heathen.
Then heathen and shameless

I. Out of Fire and Ice
  Motto: „What a pity!
   When I am wise enough,
   I will not be
   Young enough!”

Youth slips away already and you feel
You have not loved enough.

You touch your forehead: icy embers.
Our of fire and ice your life
Is made. Double life.

Looking through your lashes? The one
You are watching does not even believe,
Does not even believe you could be his alone.
Like an aged eagle, thirsty with hunger,
Hovers lower down, closer in, nearer by
His doubt; he rushes
At your lips
Lipsticked all red.

Youth slips away already and you know
You have not loved enough.
Your witnesses could be
Flirting dandelions
Autumn crocus
Saintly smelling.

II. Summer Wanes
Summer wanes. And you cannot hold it.
How can I hold it, when I cannot stop
You, although I lock you within myself.

Summer wanes. Flowers droop
In sleepy indifference
Not caring any more what they look like.

Summer wanes. Birds shriek
Instead of chirping under the wing.
What was was. Slowly undone

The charm, the languor and the sweetness...
Rains hang about with mist.
Summer wanes. Youth. Life.
 (Traducere de Lidia VIANU)