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MARIN SORESCU (29.02.1936-8.12.1996)<\/p>\n1. Contabilitate<\/p>\n
Vine o vreme
C\u00e2nd trebuie sa tragem sub noi
O linie neagra
Si sa facem socoteala.<\/p>\n
C\u00e2teva momente c\u00e2nd era sa fim fericiti,
C\u00e2teva momente c\u00e2nd era sa fim frumosi,
C\u00e2teva momente c\u00e2nd era sa fim geniali.
Ne-am \u00eent\u00e2lnit de c\u00e2teva ori
Cu niste munti, cu niste copaci, cu niste ape
(Pe unde-or mai fi? Mai traiesc?)
Toate acestea fac un viitor luminos
Pe care l-am trait.<\/p>\n
O femeie pe care am iubit-o
Si cu aceeasi femeie care nu ne-a iubit
Fac zero.<\/p>\n
Un sfert de an de studii
Fac mai multe miliarde de cuvinte furajere
A caror \u00eentelepciune am eliminat-o treptat.
Si, \u00een sf\u00e2rsit, o soarta
Si cu \u00eenca o soarta (de unde-o mai fi iesit?)
Fac doua (Scriem una si tinem una,
Poate, cine stie, exista si viata de apoi).<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
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Accountancy<\/p>\n
There comes a time
When we must draw
A black line
beneath ourselves
And do the math.<\/p>\n
A few moments
When we fell just short of being happy,
A few moments
when we fell just short of being beautiful,
A few moments
when we fell just short of being brilliant
We met a couple of times
with some mountains, with some trees, with some waters
(Where could they be now? Are they still alive?)
All these make for a bright future
One we have lived.<\/p>\n
A woman we loved
And the same woman
who didn’t love us back
Add up to zero.<\/p>\n
A quarter of the study years
Make for several billion fodder words,
The wisdom of which we’ve slowly done away with.
And, finally, one fate
plus another fate (where did this one come from?)
Add up to two (one we write down and one we safe,
Maybe, who knows,
there is also an afterlife).<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
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2. Ceva ca rug\u0103ciunea<\/p>\n
Nu \u0219tiu ce am,
C\u0103 nu dorm c\u00e2nd dorm
Nu \u0219tiu ce am,
C\u0103 nu sunt treaz,
C\u00e2nd stau de veghe.<\/p>\n
Nu \u0219tiu ce am,
C\u0103 nu ajung nic\u0103ieri,
C\u00e2nd merg.<\/p>\n
Nu \u0219tiu ce am,
C\u0103 st\u00e2nd pe loc
Sunt, h\u0103t, departe.<\/p>\n
Doamne, din ce fel de hum\u0103
M-ai luat \u00een palmele tale calde
\u0218i cu ce fel de saliva
Ai amestecat \u0219i-ai fr\u0103m\u00e2ntat huma-mi?<\/p>\n
De nu \u0219tiu ce am
C\u0103 exist,
Nu \u0219tiu ce am
C\u0103 nu mai am nimic,
Dec\u00e2t pe tine.<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
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Something like a prayer<\/p>\n
I don’t know what I have,
For I don’t sleep when I sleep
I don’t know what I have,
For I’m not awake,
When I’m awake.<\/p>\n
I don’t know what I have,
for I’m getting anywhere,
When I go.<\/p>\n
I don’t know what I have,
For sitting still
I’m way far away.<\/p>\n
Lord, of what kind of clay
did you take me in your warm hands?
And with what kind of spittle
did you mix and knead my clay?<\/p>\n
So, I don’t know what I have
For I exist,
I do not know what I have
For I have nothing left,
But you.<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
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3. Tablouri<\/p>\n
Toate muzeele se tem de mine,
Fiindc\u0103 de c\u00e2te ori stau o zi-ntreag\u0103
\u00cen fa\u021ba unui tablou,
A doua zi se anun\u021b\u0103
Dispari\u021bia tabloului.<\/p>\n
\u00cen fiecare noapte sunt prins fur\u00e2nd
\u00centr-o alt\u0103 parte a lumii,
Dar mie nici nu-mi pas\u0103
De gloan\u021bele ce-mi \u0219uier\u0103 pe la ureche,
\u0218i de c\u00e2inii lup care-mi cunosc acum
Mirosul urmelor
Mai bine dec\u00e2t \u00eendr\u0103gosti\u021bii
Parfumul iubitei.<\/p>\n
Vorbesc tare cu p\u00e2nzele ce-mi primejduiesc via\u021ba,
Le-ag\u0103\u021b de nori \u0219i de copaci
\u0218i m\u0103 dau \u00eenapoi s\u0103 am perspectiv\u0103.
Cu mae\u0219trii \u201citalieni\u201d po\u021bi s\u0103 legi u\u0219or o conversa\u021bie.<\/p>\n
Ce g\u0103l\u0103gie de culori!
\u0218i din cauza asta
Cu ei sunt foarte repede prins,
V\u0103zut \u0219i auzit de la distan\u021b\u0103,
Parc\u0103 a\u0219 duce-n bra\u021be papagali.<\/p>\n
Cel mai greu se fur\u0103 Rembrandt:
\u00centinzi m\u00e2na \u0219i dai de-ntuneric \u2013
Te-apuc\u0103 groaza, oamenii lui nu au trupuri,
Ci numai ochi \u00eenchi\u0219i \u00een beciuri \u00eentunecoase.<\/p>\n
P\u00e2nzele lui Van Gogh sunt nebune,
Se-nv\u00e2rtesc \u0219i se dau peste cap,
\u0218i trebuie s\u0103 \u021bii bine de ele
Cu am\u00e2ndou\u0103 m\u00e2inile,
C\u0103 sunt supte de-o for\u021b\u0103 din lun\u0103.<\/p>\n
Nu \u0219tiu de ce Bruegel m\u0103 face s\u0103 pl\u00e2ng,
El nu era mai b\u0103tr\u00e2n dec\u00e2t mine,
Dar i s-a spus b\u0103tr\u00e2nul,
Fiindc\u0103 pe toate le \u0219tia c\u00e2nd a murit.<\/p>\n
\u0218i eu caut s\u0103-nv\u0103\u021b de la el,
Dar nu pot s\u0103-mi \u021bin lacrimile,
Care-mi curg pe ramele lui de aur
C\u00e2nd fug cu anotimpurile la subsuoar\u0103.<\/p>\n
Cum v\u0103 spuneam, \u00een fiecare noapte
Fur c\u00e2te un tablou
Cu o dexteritate de invidiat,
Drumul fiind \u00eens\u0103 foarte lung.<\/p>\n
Sunt prins p\u00e2n\u0103 la urm\u0103,
\u0218i ajung acas\u0103 noaptea t\u00e2rziu,
Obosit \u0219i sf\u00e2\u0219iat de c\u00e2ini,
Tin\u00e2nd \u00een m\u00e2n\u0103 o reproducere ieftin\u0103.<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
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Paintings<\/p>\n
All museums are afraid of me,
Because every time I sit a whole day
In front of a painting
The next day it is announced
The painting\u2019s disappearance.<\/p>\n
Every night I\u2019m caught stealing
In another part of the world,
But I don\u2019t even care
About the bullets hissing towards my ear,
And the police dogs who know by now
The scent of my traces,
Better than the lovers
The perfume of their beloved.<\/p>\n
I talk out loud to the canvases that endanger my life,
I hang them from clouds and trees,
And I step back for some perspective.
One can easily engage a conversation with the “Italian” masters.<\/p>\n
What a turmoil of colors!
That’s why I\u2019m caught
Very quickly with them,
Seen and heard from a distance
As if I had a parrot in my arms.<\/p>\n
The hardest to steal is Rembrandt:
Stretch out a hand and you touch the darkness \u2014
You’re terrified, his men don\u2019t have bodies,
Just closed eyes in dark cellars.<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
Van Gogh\u2019s canvases are insane,
They twirl and turn upside down,
And you must hold them tight
With both hands,
For they are sucked by a force from the moon.<\/p>\n
I don\u2019t know why Breughel makes me want to cry.
He wasn\u2019t any older than me,
But they called him the old man
Because he knew it all when he died.<\/p>\n
I also try to learn from him
But I can\u2019t stop my tears
That flow over his golden frames
When I run off with the seasons under my armpit.<\/p>\n
Like I was telling you, every night
I steal one painting
With enviable dexterity.
Yet the road being very long<\/p>\n
I\u2019m caught in the end
And I get home late at night
Tired and torn by dogs
Holding a cheap forgery in my hands.<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
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4. Ctitorie<\/p>\n
A\u0219a cum stai,
Dreapt\u0103,
Cu bra\u021bele moi
Pe p\u00eentecul plin,
Pari o veche so\u021bie de voievod
tin\u00eendu-\u0219i ctitoria.<\/p>\n
\u0218i parc-aud un glas
Venind de dincolo
De dispari\u021bia materiei:<\/p>\n
“Noi, Ion \u0219i Ioana,
Cu puterile noastre
Am durat acest sf\u00eent
Copil
\u00centru ve\u0219nica pomenire
A acestui soare
\u0218i-a acestui p\u0103m\u00eent.”<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
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Creation<\/p>\n
As you stand,
Right,
With your soft arms
On the full belly,
You look like an old voivode’s wife
Holding its creation.<\/p>\n
And I can hear a voice
Coming from beyond
The disappearance of matter:<\/p>\n
“We, Ion and Ioana,
With our powers
We created this sacred
Child
In the eternal remembrance
Of this sun
And of this land.”<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
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5. Scara la cer<\/p>\n
Un fir de paianjen
At\u00e2rna de tavan.
Exact deasupra patului meu.<\/p>\n
\u00cen fiecare zi observ
Cum se lasa tot mai jos.
Mi se trimite si
Scara la cer – zic,<\/p>\n
Mi se arunca de sus.<\/p>\n
Desi am slabit \u00eengrozitor de mult
Sunt doar fantoma celui ce am fost
Ma g\u00e2ndesc ca trupul meu
Este totusi prea greu
Pentru scara asta delicata.<\/p>\n
– Suflete, ia-o tu \u00eenainte.
Pas! Pas!<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
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Ladder to Heaven<\/p>\n
A spider’s thread
Is hanging from the ceiling.
Just above my bed.<\/p>\n
Every day I notice it
How it’s lowering more and more.
I’ve been offered even
Ladder to heaven – I say,<\/p>\n
It is thrown to me from above.<\/p>\n
Although I’ve lost awfully weight
I’m only the ghost of who I was
I think that my body
It’s still too heavy
For this delicate ladder.<\/p>\n
“Soul you, go ahead, you first.”
Hush! Hush!<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
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6. Am zarit lumina<\/p>\n
Am z\u0103rit lumin\u0103 pe p\u0103m\u00e2nt,
\u015ei m-am n\u0103scut \u015fi eu
S\u0103 v\u0103d ce mai face\u0163i.
S\u0103n\u0103to\u015fi? Voinici?<\/p>\n
Cum o mai duce\u0163i cu fericirea?<\/p>\n
Mul\u0163umesc, nu-mi r\u0103spunde\u0163i.
Nu am timp de r\u0103spunsuri,
Abia dac\u0103 am timp s\u0103 pun \u00eentreb\u0103ri.<\/p>\n
Dar \u00eemi place aici.
E cald, e frumos,
\u015ei at\u00e2ta lumin\u0103 \u00eenc\u00e2t
Cre\u015fte iarba.<\/p>\n
Iar fata aceea, iat\u0103,
Se uit\u0103 la mine cu sufletul…
Nu, drag\u0103, nu te deranja s\u0103 m\u0103 iube\u015fti.<\/p>\n
O cafea neagr\u0103 voi servi, totu\u015fi.
Din m\u00e2na ta.
\u00cemi place c\u0103 tu \u015ftii s-o faci
Amar\u0103.<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
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I glimpsed light<\/p>\n
I glimpsed light on Earth
And so, I was born too
To see how you\u2019re doing.
Healthy? Strong?
What about happiness?<\/p>\nThank you, don\u2019t answer.
I have no time for answers,
I barely have time to ask questions.<\/p>\nBut I like it here,
It\u2019s warm, it\u2019s nice
And there\u2019s so much light that
The grass grows.<\/p>\nAnd that girl, look,
She\u2019s looking at me with her soul\u2026
No, my dear, don\u2019t bother to love me.<\/p>\nI’ll sip a black coffee, yet
Made by you.
I like it for you know how to make it
Bitter.<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
traducere, M. M. Biela<\/blockquote>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
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