Mainile mele ma pierd / My Arms Dispel Me / Cu totul si cu toata, nu ! / With All My Might, My Whole Says Don’t ! /

Mainile mele ma pierd

Degete de tesatoare deapana fire

De gand spre orizontul ondulat…

Din semicercul imbratisarii mele

Roiesc culorile si formele-n dublete…

Eu le desenez drum in spirala, spre delte,

Brodez lujeri peste perdeaua timpului,

Culeg razoarele de sidef imbobocit,

Rodesc rodiile sa strepezesc tristetea,

Intremez drumul indurerat

De-ndata ce se surpa malurile gravitatiei,

Ard rumegusul revoltelor ranchiunoase,

Imblanzesc stratosfera cu nectar de mierle…

Tot pe-aici imi iau zborul spre casa…

Respir cartile, le cuibaresc pe raftul cenusiu,

Frang fierea triunghiului isoscel,

Cu matasuri si inele tamaduiesc

Cicatricile planturoase ale curcubeului,

Cuminti, degetele mele tin ritmul timpului

Cu sageti de fluturi rosii,

La vreme de flux si reflux

Ti-arat tinutul de aur, fluturand sperante,

Iti murmur sistolele si diastolele,

Forjand secundele iubirii in statui.

Din tine-n pasare-am trecut. Cat de inalta sunt… !


My Arms Dispel Me

My spinning fingers reel off

Threads of thought to the uneven horizon…

My semicircle embracement besprinkles

Swarming couples of colours and shapes…

I trace their spiralling paths to deltas,

Embroidering stems on time’s canvas,

I harvest the budding flowerbeds of nacre,

I yield pomegranates to set sadness on edge,

Healing the grieving road

Whenever the gravitation shores crumble,

I burn the sawdust of rancorous rebellions,

I tame the stratosphere with blackbird ambrosia…

I take wing home the same way…

I breathe the books, nestled on the grey shelf,

Strangling the bile of the isosceles triangle,

Then I strew silks and rings

Over the rainbow’s stout scars,

My fingers gently beat the rhythm of time,

Darting red butterflies,

At ebb and flow, I guide you               

Through the golden realm, fluttering hopes,

I murmur your systoles and diastoles,

Forging love’s seconds into statues.

With you into a bird I’ve flown. Look, how high I’ve grown… !

Cu totul si cu toata, nu !

Nu ma citi gresit… !

Nu incercui prezentul cu granit,

Nu lega masti de cheratina pe ce-am daltuit,

Nu toarce verbul cu plasture de chit,

Nu strajui cu acri paducei trupul iubit,

Nu taia capilarele copacului trudit,

Nu dilua dansul chiar de-i dolomit,

Nu fa semn de nimic nimanui nenuntit,

Nu mai planta migdal zdrentuit,

Nu zgaria-n consoane marul jinduit,

Nu lansa pasari de foc spre mal nealtoit,

Nu lasa maestrul sa fie ciuruit cu criolit,

Nu frange diametrul inimii in schit,

Nu inghionti zmeura si-alunul cu brustur poleit,

Nu intra in umbra de copac ne-nfrunzit,

Nu dobori brad argintat pentru foc mocnit,

Nu refuza faianta aripii de inger pentr-un rit,

Nu fa popas tepos in bucla timpului coclit,

Nu pacali destinul cu fier fortuit…

Cu totul si cu toata, nu ma reciti gresit… !

With All My Might, My Whole Says Don’t !

Don’t misread me… !

Don’t besiege the present with granite,

Don’t put keratin masks on our carvings,

Don’t spin the verb with putty plaster,

Don’t fence the beloved body in acrid hawthorn,

Don’t cut off the capillaries of the toiling tree,

Don’t dilute the dance although it’s but dolomite,

Don’t give a good-for-nothing token to the unwedded,

Don’t keep on planting frayed almonds,    

Don’t scrape the coveted apple tree on consonants,

Don’t launch fire birds to ungrafted shores,

Don’t suffer your sensei to be riddled by cryolite,

Don’t break the heart’s diameter into hermitage,

Don’t let defiant common butterbur shove raspberry and hazel,

Don’t step into the shade of leafless trees,

Don’t fell glossy silver fir for smouldering fire,

Don’t repudiate the angel wing faience for rites,

Don’t make a spiky halt in a verdigrised time warp,

Don’t hoax the destiny with fortuitous iron… !

With all my might, don’t misread me again… !