{"id":10449,"date":"2021-11-23T14:14:14","date_gmt":"2021-11-23T12:14:14","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/?p=10449"},"modified":"2021-11-23T14:14:16","modified_gmt":"2021-11-23T12:14:16","slug":"pe-malul-linistit-al-vulcanului-on-the-quiet-shore-of-the-volcano","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/?p=10449","title":{"rendered":"PE MALUL LINISTIT AL VULCANULUI \/ ON THE QUIET SHORE OF THE VOLCANO"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

PE MALUL LINISTIT AL VULCANULUI \/ ON THE QUIET SHORE OF THE VOLCANO<\/p>\n

In fiecare zi prietenii imi aduceau o alta imagine
a lumii:
– la inceput totul era o imensa cupola de gheata
pe care vuturii orbi o purtau pe spinarile lor
lunecoase;
la inceput a fost o timida bataie din palme
pe malul linistit al vulcanului;
si spaima unei voci ascutite,
intr-o lumina uscata,
cautandu-ne…
Incepusem sa ascult din nou zgomotul surd
al evenimentelor.
In camera cu pereti muzicali
eram stapana unei frumoase colectii de identitati.
Prietenii au obosit sa-si tot caute in arhive
varsta de aur.
– Totul va fi de acum de vanzare, spuneau
si isi numarau in cor degetele
in fata unei micute sonerii muzicale…
Sentimentele s-au invechit mai repede
decat mersul impiedicat al bunicii in jurul globului
(vom inventa singuri-singurei calendarul,
abecedarul, planetariul,
groparul, singuri-singurei…)
si bunica n-a mai aflat nimic
despre ce s-a intamplat intr-o gara pustie<\/p>\n


la ora 19 si 20.
La marginea orasului sentimentele aveau capul retezat.<\/p>\n


– Si sa se dizolve Roma in Tibru!
Soarele va continua sa rasara cat mai aproape
de adevar
si viata mea va fi ultima minune a lumii!
O, la inceput spaima nu aparea pe fata oricui;
nici nu se incurca printre atatea vorbe.<\/p>\n


Isi intindea palide bratele
si f\u00eel f\u00eel
luneca linistit,
deasupra apelor…<\/p>\n


MARIANA MARIN<\/p>\n

…………………….<\/p>\n

ON THE QUIET SHORE OF THE VOLCANO<\/p>\n

Every day my friends brought me a different image
of the world:
– At first everything was a huge dome of ice
which the blind vultures carried on their slippery
backs;
at first it was a timid clap
on the quiet shore of the volcano;
and the fear of a sharp voice,
in a dry light,
looking for us …
I began to listen again to the dull rumble
of events.
In the room with music walls
I was the owner of a beautiful collection of identities.
Friends got tired of searching the archives for their
golden age.
– Everything will be for sale from now on, they’d say
counting their fingers in chorus
in front of a small musical bell …
Feelings grew old faster
than Grandma’s stumbling around the globe
(we’ll invent all alone the calendar,
the alphabet, the planetarium,
the gravedigger, all alone …)
and grandma never heard anything
about what happened in a deserted train station<\/p>\n


at 19 and 20.
On the outskirts of the city, feelings had their heads cut off.<\/p>\n


– And let Rome dissolve in the Tiber!
The sun will continue to rise as close to the truth
as possible
and my life will be the last wonder of the world!
Oh, at first the fear didn’t appear on everyone’s face;
nor did it get caught up in so many words.<\/p>\n


It stretched out its pale arms
and flapping
glided quietly,
over the waters …<\/p>\n


traducere, Maria Magdalena Biela<\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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