March, 2015
Donation
POSTED IN Stories March 25, 2015
Donation
I have collected
words
since I was born
fascinated by theirpower
uniqueness.
I’d like to donate
words,
excessively used,
eventually broken,
some without sense,
so they could fill
an empty silence
some wounded,
mutilated,
so they could fit
in the Procrustes’ bed
of a text message
or a Facebook ‘share’,
some without soul,
so they’d be fit
to lie.
Their letters could be
reused
for different purposes
and arrangements.
I have collected
words
since I was born
fascinated by their
power
uniqueness
I believed
in their fate.
But I woke up.
25.03.2015, Lanzarote
Maria Magdalena Biela
Mountain Ash
POSTED IN Stories March 25, 2015
Mountain AshMornings’ tears refresh your eyes
Occult forces in disguise
Urns of ashes from the skies.
Name of names and One of ones
Time will call the Son of sons
Alchemy that heals and stuns.
In my dreams I pass time through
Name of names, to drink from you.All my eyes perceive your mind
Secular with you to bind
Help me feel You, deaf and blind.
To my Mountain Ash, Garnet Robbie, on his birthday!
Maria Magdalena Biela
The legend of Martisor
POSTED IN Stories March 1, 2015
The legend of Martisor
Once upon a time there was an old woman named, Dochia, who lived in the Carpathians, in that country who has the shape of a heart, called Romania.
Dochia had a son who married a young innocent girl. The son was a shepherd; he lived far away from home with his sheep so he would come to see his wife every now and then, leaving her with Dochia, whom she helped keeping the house.
Dochia was cruel to the girl. She gave her always impossible tasks to do, just to see her failing and to have a reason to criticise her in front of her son. The villagers always helped the poor girl in her unhappiness, knowing that Dochia was a mean old woman, hateful, lonely and greedy.
One winter day, by the end of February, Dochia told the girl:
– You, ungrateful child, go to the river and wash these towels until the white ones will become black and the black ones will be white.
– But, tried the shy scared girl, the rivers are frozen…
– How dare you talk back to me, you, shameless bastard? Go away from my sight and do as told!
The poor girl ran to the river, with big tears washing her sad face, wishing herself a sweet death in the icy waters. The villagers once again came to her rescue and by evening, the towels were washed and coloured as Dochia ordered.
Seeing that, Dochia became even angrier and demanded that Marta, the girl, would go to the woods to bring her sweet red berries.
– But, the land is snowed and frozen…tried Marta shyly…
– Do I hear your voice again? Go on, go on!!!
And Marta left, crying her way to the snowy woods…Even the villagers could not help her this time.
In heaven, the playful angels, watching the crying child lost in desperation through the woods, decided to put a basket with strawberries near a tree, in Marta’s way, to ease her pain.
– Strawberries, screamed the child with joy and amazement, when she found the red berries, shining on the white snow!
She believed that to be a miracle and, thankful, she took the basket and returned home to Dochia.
When Dochia saw the red berries she thought that finally Spring came and she decided to go to the mountains, to see her son. She took with her nine coats and she started the journey. It was the 1st of March. The further she went, the warmer she felt and one by one, Dochia would take off every day one coat until one day, when she vanished buried by the snow.
The red berries on the white snow punished Dochia for her greed, her badness, her menace.
Ever since, when March arrives, people celebrate the joy of Spring by offering each other The Mărţisor, a reminder of Marta, a reminder of love, goodness, happiness, acceptance, gratitude, everything that Dochia did not have.
Every Romanian wears the red and white thread on their chest, near heart. They offer it each other to celebrate the Light of a new better life.
The first nine days of March are called “Dochia’s days”. They are a reminder of Dochia’s nine coats. Sometimes it snows, sometimes the sun is shining, and the weather is as moody as the old woman was.
On 28th of February people choose one day between the first and the 9th of March to be “their old woman (Baba)”: if the day is beautiful and sunny, so it will be their year and soul. If the day is grey and snowy, then sadness will be waiting around the corner. The Weather Oracle never fails.
On March the 10th, the Martisor thread shall be hanged on the first blossomed tree, a wish shall be made and the whole year that tree with one’s thread will protect one’s happiness.
Marta lives forever in our hearts with red and white Mărţisor of hope and love.
Happy 1st of March to everyone! May Light shine upon you!
Maria Magdalena Biela
