POEME ROMÂNESTI ÎN LIMBI STRĂINE

Ion MILOS

I’m Not

 

I’m not a cuckoo

I don’t leave my egg in somebody else’s heart

I’m not a snake

I don’t bite the one who crushes my shadow

I don’t take the knife up

When I think about money and fame

My capital is poetry

And nobody can lodge gold at the bank

Writing poems

I’m not a bureaucrat

My hand vibrates on life-giving waters

 

Then why are you lopping my branches off

Why are you nailing my hands

If you don’t like poets

Take out your pistol and shoot

Since I myself can split hairs

Squeeze water out from stone

Swear at saints and gods

And still many other horrible things

 

(English version: Gabriela PACHIA)