{"id":10711,"date":"2022-02-01T14:45:34","date_gmt":"2022-02-01T12:45:34","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/?p=10711"},"modified":"2022-02-01T14:45:36","modified_gmt":"2022-02-01T12:45:36","slug":"ultimul-poem-de-dragoste-in-gradina-de-trandafir-the-last-love-poem-in-the-rose-garden","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/?p=10711","title":{"rendered":"ULTIMUL POEM DE DRAGOSTE IN GRADINA DE TRANDAFIR \/ THE LAST LOVE POEM IN THE ROSE GARDEN"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

ULTIMUL POEM DE DRAGOSTE IN GRADINA DE TRANDAFIR \/ THE LAST LOVE POEM IN THE ROSE GARDEN<\/p>\n


\u00cen gr\u0103dina de trandafir a spitalului,
printre buc\u0103\u0163i de memorie vesel\u0103 \u015fi tablete aruncate
ai descoperit (dar vezi, nume\u015fte exact!)
legea deplas\u0103rii \u00een roiuri a popoarelor vechi,
astfel de r\u0103m\u0103\u015fi\u0163e prohibite
din care se vor hr\u0103ni \u00eentr-o zi noile culturi\u2026
Ai privit-o un timp,
ai ascultat-o atent\u0103 \u015fi f\u0103r\u0103 prea mult\u0103 grab\u0103;
\u015fi date fiind inteligen\u0163a ta
\u015fi posibilitatea rapid\u0103 de adaptare
ai \u00een\u0163eles: \u2013 uite-l, a venit chiar el,
adev\u0103rul tras odat\u0103 de p\u0103r \u015fi c\u0103zut acum \u00een dizgra\u0163ie.
(Stop! \u00cenapoi!
M\u0103rturise\u015fte \u00eent\u00eei ru\u015finea zilnic\u0103 din copil\u0103rie :
\u201eMama \u015fi tata erau complexa\u0163i diminea\u0163a
\u015fi mult prea neru\u015fina\u0163i \u00eenspre sear\u0103
(mult\u0103 lume a\u015ftepta atunci r\u0103zboiul!)
\u015fi tocmai de aceea au hot\u0103r\u00eet
(date fiind inteligen\u0163a mea
\u015fi posibilitatea rapid\u0103 de adaptare)
s\u0103-mi termin studiile
\u00eentr-un or\u0103\u015fel de munte, balnear \u015fi departe de cas\u0103\u201c).
\u00cen gr\u0103dina de trandafir a spitalului
venise chiar el, adev\u0103rul tras la fa\u0163\u0103
\u015fi cu ochii plesni\u0163i.
(Reci \u015fi ascu\u0163ite fuseser\u0103 c\u0103ile Sale!)
Desigur, s\u0103-l privesc!
Desigur, s\u0103 pun acum m\u00eena pe el!
S\u0103-l \u00eenghit cu memoria mea vesel\u0103
\u015fi s\u0103-i spun: \u2013 O, tu cel negru pe dinafar\u0103,
dar at\u00eet de alb pe din\u0103untru! Regele a murit
\u015fi Delfinul este bastard!
Hai, \u00een patria mea luminoas\u0103!
Te vor primi \u201ela o mas\u0103 lung\u0103 \u015fi bogat\u0103
a\u015fa dup\u0103 cum este obiceiul prin p\u0103r\u0163ile noastre r\u0103s\u0103ritene\u2026\u201c
Hai, vino mai bine \u00een patria mea luminoas\u0103!<\/p>\n

\u00cen gr\u0103dina de trandafir a spitalului
am descoperit legea conserv\u0103rii memoriei vesele,
astfel de adev\u0103ruri din care se vor hr\u0103ni \u00eentr-o zi
urma\u015fii mei, roiurile de cenu\u015f\u0103 \u015fi oase\u2026
Dar Tu, Patrie Luminoas\u0103!
E una care uit\u0103 mai bine dec\u00eet Tine?
C\u00eete ziduri \u0163i-au mai c\u0103zut?
C\u00ee\u0163i din\u0163i?
\u015ei c\u00eete trupuri tinere se mai zbat
\u00eentre f\u0103lcile Tale celeste?
C\u00eete or\u0103\u015fele de munte, balneare \u015fi departe de cas\u0103?
\u015ei c\u00eete gr\u0103dini de trandafir,
\u00een care tinerele omizi viseaz\u0103 \u00eenc\u0103?
Am c\u0103utat tot adev\u0103rul
\u015fi nic\u0103ieri nu l-am v\u0103zut mai bine
dec\u00eet \u00eentre f\u0103lcile Tale celeste!
Nic\u0103ieri sufletul meu nu \u015fi-a iubit mai tare coastele!
\u015ei eu cum s\u0103-\u0163i mul\u0163umesc!
La ce s\u0103-\u0163i foloseasc\u0103 \u0162ie ultimul poem de dragoste
\u00een gr\u0103dina de trandafir!
\u015ei memoria mea vesel\u0103!
\u015fi deplasarea \u00een roiuri a popoarelor vechi!<\/p>\n

Ascult\u0103-m\u0103!
Va \u00eencepe s\u0103 plou\u0103 al dracului de tare
\u015fi se vor \u00eeneca p\u00een\u0103 \u015fi nenorocitele astea de omizi.<\/p>\n

Putred\u0103 carnea mea.
Negru p\u0103m\u00eentul.<\/p>\n


MARIANA MARIN<\/p>\n

………….<\/p>\n

The last love poem in the rose garden<\/p>\n

In the rose garden of the hospital,
amidst bits of cheerful memory and discarded tablets
you discovered (but see, name it exactly!)
the law of the swarming movement of ancient peoples,
such forbidden remains
from which the new cultures will one day feed\u2026
You’ve watched it for a while,
you listened to it carefully and without too much haste;
and given your intelligence
and the ability to adapt quickly
you understood: – there he is, he came himself,
the truth once pulled by the hair and now disgraced.
(Stop! Back!
Confess first the daily shame of childhood:
“My mother and father had a complex in the morning
and were far too shameless in the evening
(Many people were waiting for the war then!)
and that’s why they decided
(given my intelligence
and the ability to adapt quickly)
to finish my studies
in a small mountain town, spa and away from home \u201d).
In the rose garden of the hospital
he himself had come, the truth haggard
and with torn eyes.
(Cold and sharp had been His ways!)
Of course, to look at him!
Of course, to lay hands on him now!
To swallow it with my joyful memory
and to tell him: – Oh, thou black outwardly,
but so white on the inside! The king is dead
and the Dolphin is a bastard!
Come, to my bright homeland!
They’ll welcome you \u201cto a long and rich meal
as is the custom in our eastern parts\u2026 “
Come on, better come to my bright homeland!<\/p>\n

In the rose garden of the hospital
I discovered the law of preserving the happy memory,
such truths as will one day feed on
my descendants, the swarms of ashes and bones…
And You, Bright Homeland!
Is there another one who forgets better than Thee?
How many more walls have fallen on you?
How many teeth?
And how many young bodies are still struggling
between Thy heavenly jaws?
How many mountain towns, spas and far from home?
And how many rose gardens,
where young caterpillars still dream?
I’ve searched for the whole truth
and nowhere have I seen it better
than between Thy heavenly jaws!
Nowhere my soul loved its ribs more!
And how can I thank Thee!
What use is the last love poem
in the rose garden for Thee!
And my happy memory!
and the swarming of the ancient peoples!<\/p>\n

Hear me!
It’s gonna start raining like hell
and drown even the fucking caterpillars.<\/p>\n

My rotten flesh.
Black the earth.<\/p>\n

traducere, M. M. Biela<\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[37],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10711","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-mariana"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10711","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=10711"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10711\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10713,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10711\/revisions\/10713"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=10711"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=10711"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=10711"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}