Don’t dig too deep, I’m telling you,
Living creature
My heart I feel getting cold inside me,
my writing hand I feel
the words fading away I feel,
and to this last second also
Knot 23
I have stolen my baby body
The heartbroken fisherman ill-fated, miserable and wretched
Knot 3
My eyes could no longer shed tears
Ah, you, my hands,
Ah, my body, I cried,
Ah, my life, I cried,
I covered myself
Through the orange tunnel
Whom shall I punish through my death?
To the well digger
Don’t dig too deep, don’t
for you are to come across the sky
for you are to come across the sky
another sky, some other stars, I’m telling you,
another sky, some other stars
and among them, over there,
another earth, another earth.
my brain I feel getting icy,
good-bye, maximum life,
good-bye, my minimum life!
turning into a hemp bundle of smoke,
good-bye, snow,
good-bye, cloud !
their meanings also,
good-bye, I’m saying
to all the crosses on the graves,
when I’m still beseeching you,
still beseeching you:
think no more of yourself, think no more of myself !
I have swaddled it,
I have placed it in a wicker basket-
and into the river I have cast it
to float away and in the delta die.
is just coming to me
with it in his arms.
but eyes-
my orbits kept giving birth to eyes-
so that I may come to ease, if only I could come to ease.
I cried,
stop crying with hands !
stop crying with bodies!
stop crying with life !
but there kept on rolling at random
beneath the shroud,
eyes, hands, bodies, life
Which violet shall I bereave of violet-blue?
For which eye
is my joy of living a tear?
Why have you given me more than my transient wall?
Why am I bound to think with my sight?
Why am I bound to hold one apple in either hand
As long as my hand holds itself
and feels no pain?
(Traducere de Olimpia Iacob)
