POEME ROMÂNESTI ÎN LIMBI STRĂINE
Vasile PROCA
DUMINICA DIN TRĂSNET
(traduceri)
Lluvia de santos y campanas
(Ploaie cu sfinti si clopote)
Alégrate, esquizofrenia de mi tiempo –
eres un gran pan caliente
camino entre tus vapores
como en un enorme salón de espera
con los labios de la pobreza te beso
y cada día escucho mi ladrido
como el de un monstruo feroz
alégrate, vida misera cuando me despiertas –
se han multiplicado los hijos del diablo y quieren ver
como los poema s venden sus entrañas en la calle
y después te mandarán noticias:
que las iglesias andan por el aire
en una lluvia de santos y campanas.
La tentación de la negación
(Tentatia negatiei)
Entre Demonio y Dios
mi carne cansada
besa
la sanctitud
de los locos
entre creencia y blasfemia
mi carne muy cansada
habla
la lengua
de las fieras
bajo la cruz deificada
entre ruego e injuria
me
construye
el hundimiento
antes de nacer
una eucaristía
se enciende la sangre
mira por la piel del espanto
el horizonte
de otro
tiempo
situado entre la realidad y la utopía
pensando que no sea hombre
pensando que no sea hombre
El último tiempo
(Ultimul timp)
Se siguen viendo los signos:
en las manos y los pies atados con insomnias
pasamos por el jardín de Academos
flotamos en su frente en el largo día
en la paciencia como un imperio
como una tribu de obsesiones
al lado de un río de dudas
juntamos los muertos de los domingos de las guerras
mientras rebaños sangrientos nos rumian
las imitaciones de las noches
ahora está amaneciendo en los ojos de la pirámide
Traduceri de Cristina POPA
Images
(Imagini)
– Embraced as we are we urge on the contemplation
of the trees that cast off their skin:
our blood disclosed the feeling of sin tasting of
heroine
and we’re much richer in Lord God
… the sun had the dead man’s look a black patch
that awakened sensual images:
beneath me your breasts broke, hey, then I
in a phalic posture in the clearing with nuns in the night…
And we’re much richer in Lord God: someone makes the sign
of the thunder
Silence hierarchies
(Ierarhiile tãcerii)
– ‘I saw the fright like a beast
wandering at the heart rise in the sky
…baptize with fright your last journey
you who walk hidden another image’
one can hear the earth that remembers us
one can hear the gray voice of a season viewed
in the night of the mirror:
it’s the icon painter in the street
calling to us for buying Lord God
it’s the hard breath of the night
when establishes the silence hierarchies
… I have a rest on the threshold of the sleep
when the guardian dog takes the shape of the knife
Wailing after the wind man
(Bocet dupã omul vînt)
– Between to be born and to die
There’s only one day:
loooooooooooooooong
Between the skies and the earth my lord
Plasters a wind
And the wind is a wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiind
To know the wind wind man
… you scrape the stone of your death with your how!
of hunted animal that run
for you are sentenced to death:
and Death is only a deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeath?
Like the Angel on the cross I dwell
In my name:
PROCAREXROMANORUM –
Whence I come down by way of wild beast
To visit the white part of my inside
celestial clearing I call
My life
(viata mea)
– Grain by grain springs up in my fear the whistle of the wheat
Fron the dead man’s star: there awakens also the indifference of
the water
On which the boldness of living floats
I then plunge into suffering: around it images
That won’t speak:
… all along with the earth sleeps the dreams inside which
there’s nothing to find:
drinking the trifling matters has become a ceremonial
with its daily shades,
then there come our hasty steps in our own truths:
as if our souls made an important appointment
and some other details that are
still moving
… it is also said that the eye of life looks at you
standing like the plumb line:
hanging from the image of the Lamb that
grazes
that green piece of could
living the life of the trifling matter living the life of the animal
at random, of course, like this.
Patch greedy after infinite
(Petic flãmînd de infinit)
– With two hearts I listen to Vangelis and invent
Death
Slantwise in the night I listen to Vangelis, sweetheart:
Perhaps comes sadness perhaps dissipation
… moved Lord God throws the dice on a female day:
from time to time he takes the knife and scores another fall
on my heart…
… and bells and pitch dark of voices go up: today the thunder
in the river bed is to give birth to my women from the south: you’re
my choice
to come and give me uneases of kisses
and wander daily through another beginning…
… a metallic rain is my fall and behind
every tree I hear a cry of joy:
is it Death or some sort of imitation turned black
that stands for a patch greedy after infinite
Traduceri de Olimpia IACOB
DUMINICA DIN TRĂSNET
(traduceri)
Lluvia de santos y campanas
(Ploaie cu sfinti si clopote)
Alégrate, esquizofrenia de mi tiempo –
eres un gran pan caliente
camino entre tus vapores
como en un enorme salón de espera
con los labios de la pobreza te beso
y cada día escucho mi ladrido
como el de un monstruo feroz
alégrate, vida misera cuando me despiertas –
se han multiplicado los hijos del diablo y quieren ver
como los poema s venden sus entrañas en la calle
y después te mandarán noticias:
que las iglesias andan por el aire
en una lluvia de santos y campanas.
La tentación de la negación
(Tentatia negatiei)
Entre Demonio y Dios
mi carne cansada
besa
la sanctitud
de los locos
entre creencia y blasfemia
mi carne muy cansada
habla
la lengua
de las fieras
bajo la cruz deificada
entre ruego e injuria
me
construye
el hundimiento
antes de nacer
una eucaristía
se enciende la sangre
mira por la piel del espanto
el horizonte
de otro
tiempo
situado entre la realidad y la utopía
pensando que no sea hombre
pensando que no sea hombre
El último tiempo
(Ultimul timp)
Se siguen viendo los signos:
en las manos y los pies atados con insomnias
pasamos por el jardín de Academos
flotamos en su frente en el largo día
en la paciencia como un imperio
como una tribu de obsesiones
al lado de un río de dudas
juntamos los muertos de los domingos de las guerras
mientras rebaños sangrientos nos rumian
las imitaciones de las noches
ahora está amaneciendo en los ojos de la pirámide
Traduceri de Cristina POPA
Images
(Imagini)
– Embraced as we are we urge on the contemplation
of the trees that cast off their skin:
our blood disclosed the feeling of sin tasting of
heroine
and we’re much richer in Lord God
… the sun had the dead man’s look a black patch
that awakened sensual images:
beneath me your breasts broke, hey, then I
in a phalic posture in the clearing with nuns in the night…
And we’re much richer in Lord God: someone makes the sign
of the thunder
Silence hierarchies
(Ierarhiile tãcerii)
– ‘I saw the fright like a beast
wandering at the heart rise in the sky
…baptize with fright your last journey
you who walk hidden another image’
one can hear the earth that remembers us
one can hear the gray voice of a season viewed
in the night of the mirror:
it’s the icon painter in the street
calling to us for buying Lord God
it’s the hard breath of the night
when establishes the silence hierarchies
… I have a rest on the threshold of the sleep
when the guardian dog takes the shape of the knife
Wailing after the wind man
(Bocet dupã omul vînt)
– Between to be born and to die
There’s only one day:
loooooooooooooooong
Between the skies and the earth my lord
Plasters a wind
And the wind is a wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiind
To know the wind wind man
… you scrape the stone of your death with your how!
of hunted animal that run
for you are sentenced to death:
and Death is only a deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeath?
Like the Angel on the cross I dwell
In my name:
PROCAREXROMANORUM –
Whence I come down by way of wild beast
To visit the white part of my inside
celestial clearing I call
My life
(viata mea)
– Grain by grain springs up in my fear the whistle of the wheat
Fron the dead man’s star: there awakens also the indifference of
the water
On which the boldness of living floats
I then plunge into suffering: around it images
That won’t speak:
… all along with the earth sleeps the dreams inside which
there’s nothing to find:
drinking the trifling matters has become a ceremonial
with its daily shades,
then there come our hasty steps in our own truths:
as if our souls made an important appointment
and some other details that are
still moving
… it is also said that the eye of life looks at you
standing like the plumb line:
hanging from the image of the Lamb that
grazes
that green piece of could
living the life of the trifling matter living the life of the animal
at random, of course, like this.
Patch greedy after infinite
(Petic flãmînd de infinit)
– With two hearts I listen to Vangelis and invent
Death
Slantwise in the night I listen to Vangelis, sweetheart:
Perhaps comes sadness perhaps dissipation
… moved Lord God throws the dice on a female day:
from time to time he takes the knife and scores another fall
on my heart…
… and bells and pitch dark of voices go up: today the thunder
in the river bed is to give birth to my women from the south: you’re
my choice
to come and give me uneases of kisses
and wander daily through another beginning…
… a metallic rain is my fall and behind
every tree I hear a cry of joy:
is it Death or some sort of imitation turned black
that stands for a patch greedy after infinite
Traduceri de Olimpia IACOB
