{"id":9232,"date":"2019-04-19T12:53:07","date_gmt":"2019-04-19T09:53:07","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/?p=9232"},"modified":"2019-04-19T13:02:55","modified_gmt":"2019-04-19T10:02:55","slug":"our-masterpiece-is-the-private-life-capodopera-noastra-i-viata-intima","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/?p=9232","title":{"rendered":"OUR MASTERPIECE IS THE PRIVATE LIFE \/ CAPODOPERA NOASTRA ESTE  VIATA INTIMA"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><a title=\"egon\" href=\"http:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/04\/egon.jpg\" rel=\"prettyPhoto-img\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-9233\" src=\"http:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/04\/egon-248x250.jpg\" alt=\"egon\" width=\"248\" height=\"250\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/04\/egon-248x250.jpg 248w, https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/04\/egon-150x150.jpg 150w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 248px) 100vw, 248px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<blockquote class=\"sc-blockquote\">OUR MASTERPIECE IS THE PRIVATE LIFE \/ CAPODOPERA NOASTRA-I VIATA INTIMA<\/p>\n<p>I<\/p>\n<p>Is there something down by the water keeping itself from us,<br \/>\nSome shy event, some secret of the light that falls upon the deep,<br \/>\nSome source of sorrow that does not wish to be discovered yet?<\/p>\n<p>Why should we care? Doesn\u2019t desire cast its rainbows over the coarse porcelain<br \/>\nOf the world\u2019s skin and with its measures fill the air? Why look for more?<\/p>\n<p>II<\/p>\n<p>And now, while the advocates of awfulness and sorrow<br \/>\nPush their dripping barge up and down the beach, let\u2019s eat<br \/>\nOur brill, and sip this beautiful white Beaune.<\/p>\n<p>True, the light is artificial, and we are not well-dressed.<br \/>\nSo what. We like it here. We like the bullocks in the field next door,<br \/>\nWe like the sound of wind passing over grass. The way you speak,<\/p>\n<p>In that low voice, our late night disclosures . . . why live<br \/>\nFor anything else? Our masterpiece is the private life.<\/p>\n<p>III<\/p>\n<p>Standing on the quay between the Roving Swan and the Star Immaculate,<br \/>\nBreathing the night air as the moment of pleasure taken<br \/>\nIn pleasure vanishing seems to grow, its self-soiling<\/p>\n<p>Beauty, which can only be what it was, sustaining itself<br \/>\nA little longer in its going, I think of our own smooth passage<br \/>\nThrough the graded partitions, the crises that bleed,<\/p>\n<p>Into the ordinary, leaving us a little more tired each time,<br \/>\nA little more distant from the experiences, which, in the old days,<br \/>\nHeld us captive for hours. The drive along the winding road<\/p>\n<p>Back to the house, the sea pounding against the cliffs,<br \/>\nThe glass of whiskey on the table, the open book, the questions,<br \/>\nAll the day\u2019s rewards waiting at the doors of sleep . . .<\/p>\n<p>MARK STRAND<br \/>\n&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;<br \/>\nCapodopera noastra este viata intima<br \/>\nI<\/p>\n<p>Exista ceva in josul apei ce\u00a0 de noi\u00a0se\u00a0fereste,<br \/>\nvreo intamplare timida, vreun secret al luminii ce cade peste adanc,<br \/>\nvreun izvor al tristetii ce nu se vrea descoperit inca?<\/p>\n<p>De ce ne-ar pasa? Dorinta nu-si arunca curcubeiele peste portelanul brut<br \/>\nal pielii lumii si cu propriile-i masuri umple aerul? De ce-am cauta mai mult?<\/p>\n<p>II<br \/>\nSi-acum, pe cand adeptii groazei si durerii<br \/>\n&#8216;S-imping salupa siroind in susul si-n josul plajei, hai sa mancam<br \/>\nCalcanul nostru, si sa luam o gura din frumosul Beaune alb.<br \/>\nAdevarat, lumina e artificiala, si nu suntem bine imbracati.<br \/>\nSi ce. Ne place aici. Ne plac boii de pe campul vecin,<br \/>\nNe place sunetul vantului peste iarba. Felul in care vorbesti,<br \/>\nCu vocea soapta, dezvaluirile noastre tarziu in noapte&#8230;de ce sa traiesti<br \/>\nPentru altceva? Capodopera noastra este viata intima.<\/p>\n<p>III<br \/>\nStand pe chei intre constelatii Lebada Calatoare si Steaua Imaculata,<br \/>\nRespirand aerul noptii in timp ce momentul placerii luate<br \/>\nIn placere disparand pare sa creasca, propria-i murdarita<\/p>\n<p>Frumusete, care poate fi ceea ce-a fost, doar sustinandu-se<br \/>\nPutin mai mult in plecarea-i, ma gandesc la propria noatra trecere calma<br \/>\nPrin despartirile treptate, crizele ce sangereaza,<\/p>\n<p>In cotidian, lasandu-ne putin mai obositi de fiece data,<br \/>\nPutin mai distanti de experientele, care, in zilele de-odinioara,<br \/>\nNe tineau captivi ore intregi. Calatoria de-a lungul unui drum serpuit<\/p>\n<p>Inapoi spre casa, marea lovindu-se de stanci,<br \/>\nPaharul cu whiskey pe masa, cartea deschisa, intrebarile,<br \/>\nToata rasplata zilei astepand la usile somnului&#8230;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Maria Magdalena<\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7,19],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-9232","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-classic-poetry","category-translated-english-romanian"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9232","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=9232"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9232\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":9240,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9232\/revisions\/9240"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=9232"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=9232"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=9232"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}