POEME ROMÂNESTI ÎN LIMBI STRĂINE

 

Magdalena Dorina SUCIU

More than one love

Ever since you have enchained me with your look,
the role of the sand-glass is
to gather in it
the gods’sweat.

I have never thought
that the most beautiful dream
can scratch beneath the skin
so as to splash like an eye
towards the outside.

Don’t move away:
I just cross
and leave love
throw stones at me,
until a spring
puts on my blood
as if a wedding dress. 

Almost all

You are the slice of hungry sky
that sparkles within me,
the urn where I want to set my soul
after it has been seized by the unicorns.

I kiss your palms
as if I kissed the gods’ mantles
that lie in wait
to measure the pillars of each day
where I gather up the slivers of the phoenix
in the corner of a handkerchief… 

Birds in the Sand-Glass

Today I have held in my palms
the shadow of that Sunday
that remained speechless in Jesus’s body,
after the spikes
had pierced the sky,
so that we could snow upon the earth.

Instead of sand,
the birds struggle in the sand-glass,
and  time washes its face
with holy water from the lap of an old apple-tree.

I await you, God,
to lay  more stones under my knees,
with dumb cries
to smother the pain,
lest a strange knife
shall catch up with love.
 Letter smelling of autumn

Father sends me a letter:
 so white are the words 
that they leave marks of white frost
on my lips;

he treads barefoot on the autumn
and hard for so much sky
he exiles the soul
to a mute violin;

I call him out,
but his voice of invisible bell
fully overturns
the wells that come out on my way.

 The deep of the outbreak

 From now on I am
the living eaves
that is why
the stick of gold of the moon
watches over a well in a swaddling band of grass

Never has your absence brought
so close to me
the sky of porcelain
under which the butterflies
cast a spell over a bone
that learns to make its way.

Maybe it is  time for us
to cut off the waiting from the scales
and in a fragile book
to smart
two twin drops of blood.
Translations by Olimpia IACOB