vineri, 18 mai 2012

UN FIR INROURAT DE IARBA-A DEWY WIRE GRASS

  • Am strans in palme petale de trandafiri salbatici,parfumul tainicelor candele din coaja spinilor,ingemanati in firul plantei.Cu-aripi deschise,ca un evantai,de frig si frica se-aninase-n pietre.Ce rugaciune-ascunde astazi,inserarea?Ce magica speranta prinde radacini,in adancimea gandurilor,salbatice,rebele?Parea ca tese sau sopteste,parea instrainat,de vantul aspru si uscat,parea legat de caldaramul strazii,cu lanturi prinse de genuni,precum un ghem de vestejite frunze,in pragul Primaverii,tot ce-a ramas din anul ce-a trecut,spre alte lumi,stinghere si tacute.Strabat cararea stramta,ascunsa-n dosul casei,calc peste firele de iarba verde,pregatite sa-nnopteze,ca Ielele frumoasele,cu simturi incoltite-n asteptare,luciri abastru-ntunecat,ca pletele Desrei,imi sageteaza fruntea-nfierbantata,ascult chemarea Cerului,si parca-ngenunchez,cu lacrimi calde,ca ploile de vara,si,parca Cerul s-a aplecat,din nou,spre fruntea mea,sa-i dau o sarutare,ca o ofranda insemnata,culeasa din adancuri,ca ochii tandri si molatici ai caprioarei din Padure.Din siragul de margele-al Timpului,batranul calugar intelept,care cutreiera marginile Pamantului,adunand,cu anii,din stele,margaritarele ascunse printre stanci,a mai cazut inca o bobita,pe care,aplecandu-ma incet,cu fruntea grea de visuri,am regasit-o pe caldaramul strazii,sub aripile fluturelui plapand,precum clipele cu aripi stravezii,puse din palmele calde,pe-un fir inrourat de iarba.
  • I raised on the palms,wild rose petals,fragrance,the mysterious candles from the peel thorns,intertwined in the wire plant.With wings open like a fan,cold and fear,is hanging in stones.What prayer hide today the twilight?What magical hope take root in deep the thoughts,wild,rebellious?It looked like weave or whisper,seemed estranged by harsh wind and dry,seemed bound for street pavement,with chains attached abyss,like a bundle of withered leaves,on the eve of spring all that remained from last year to other worlds,singles and quiet.Cross the narrow path,hidden behind the house,step over the blades of grass green,ready to spend the night,as Beautiful Elves,with senses sprouted in waiting,dark blue glow as Desra hair,pierce my hot forehead,listen calling heaven,and if kneel,with tears warm,as summer rains,and,if heaven was bent again to my forehead,give him a kiss as a significant offering,collected from the depths,like the gentle eyes and soft,of deer in the Forest.From bead of Time,wise old monk,who scour the ends of the Earth,gathering years of stars,pearls hidden among the rocks,has feel another grape,wich crouching me slowly,with heavy forehead of dreams,I found it on the street pavement,under the wings butterfly feebly,like moments,with transparent wings,placed from my warm palms on a dewy wire grass.

vineri, 11 mai 2012

UN FIR DE LUMINA,CA O PANGLICA-A THREAD LIGHT,LIKE A RIBBON


  • O vrabiuta,evantai cafeniu,prins de incheietura mainilor,cu gandurile risipite peste stanci,s-a ratacit,ca un zmeu de hartie,purtand pe umerii goi,povesti fara sfarsit.Magia rasfranta a luminii ii sagetase zborul,si-acum,zbatandu-se-ntre gratiile ferestrei,ciugulea faramituri de clipe ravasite,ca sa-si invinga frica.Clipe trecute prin inima cad pe podea,ca niste crengi rupte de vant.Se zbat la Portile Tacerii,risipite,ca niste intrebari ramase fara raspuns.Sa prinzi ghemul clipelor,undele de aer tesute de heruvimi deasupra stancilor,trecand,ca printr-un tunel al Timpului spre alte ceruri,cu tainice parfumuri.Frantura de vis in zbor sagetat,risipise clipe peste stanci,ciugulind bobite de vis,ascunse in stropi argintii de roua,clipe efemere inghesuite in inima.Ciugulea din aer fire de vis,inaltate spre Cer,ca zmei de hartie,stelute aurii atarnate de nori.La asfintit trase cu ciocul un fir de lumina,ca o panglica,sa-i fie aproape,atingand inaltimile.Cu palmele incrucisate,clipe efemere se lipesc de geam acum,ca niste licurici aparuti pe neasteptate din tenebrele Pamantului.Intorc inca o fila din carte,ascultand cum stropii de ploaie se lovesc de geam,aripile vrabiutei,bataile speriate ale inimii,timpul pierdut.
  • A sparrow,fan tan,grabbed wrists,thoughts scattered over the rocks,was lost,like a paper kite,wearing bare shoulders,endless stories.Reflected magic,light,her arrows fly,and now,struggling between the bars of window pecking broken pieces of torn moments,to conquer fear.Moments passed through the heart,fall to the floor,like branches broken by wind.Struggle,the Gates of Silence,wasted,as some questions unanswered.To catch the skein moments,air waves,woven by cherubs above the rocks,passing as if through a tunnel of time,for other skies,with mysterious perfume.Glimpse of dream of flying arrows,scattered moments over rocks,picking berries dream,hidden in silvery drops of dew,ephemeral moments tucked into the heart.Pecking at the air-wire dream skyward as paper kites,golden stars hung by clouds.As the sun set,drawn with the beak,a thread of light,like a ribbon,to be near her,reaching heights together.With palms crossed ephemeral moments stick to glass now,like fireflies,emerged suddenly from the darkness of Earth.I turn another page in the book,listening as the rain hit the glass,the little brown sparrow wings,beating scared heart,lost time.

marți, 8 mai 2012

CAZAND CLIPOCIND-FELL RIPPLING

  • Despre locul acesta intunecat,nu povesteste nimeni,cum ca Ielele frumoasele au alunecat,zdrelindu-si picioarele si mainile.Ca niste cuvinte pierdute,Ielele frumoasele au alunecat in fantana.Dinspre zori,sosira niste zvonuri din adancul Padurii,cum ca Fiara ar fi ascuns legile Pamantului,tocmai printre fibrele parfumate din lemnul cumpenei. Ascunsa printre pietrele ascutite  ale stancilor ,Fiara a fluierat in noapte a pustiu,pentru pelerina cenusie,tesuta de spiridusi, cazuta ca o camasa rupta,in golul din Abis,purtand cuvintele, din Lege,ratacite, in buzunarul de volbura al Aminei,zana care poarta rugaciunile.Ca niste lilieci in noapte s-au asezat cuvintele,cazand,cu palpairi argintii de licurici,pe fibra lemnului de nuc,leganandu-se usor,pana la caderea zorilor,cand Ielele frumoasele,murmurand sagalnic,s-au intors acasa,coborand,ca niste petale de mar,pe cumpana fantanii.Cand Orfida s-a asezat,cuvintele legii,fermecate de tandretea ei,au cazut clipocind ca niste smaralde,in apa cristalina a izvorului din fantana.Soapte pierdute,ramase la urma,risipitu-s-au atunci,ca vartejuri de frunze si flori de fag,armindeni rosii-aurii,asezati ca lacrimi la radacina copacilor,invartejindu-se,risipindu-se,adunandu-se,ca niste petale de maci,sangerand usor,indragostiti de apusul soarelui.Cu priviri ricosand ca fulgere peste geana Cerului,Remifica s-a asezat la picioarele Asurei,mangaind,cu pletele-i de smarald,cureaua argintie a frumoaselor ei sandale.Caroflora si-a acoperit,in graba,fruntea,razand,ca o copila,ingenunchind,in tacere langa Ona,in pridvor,acoperind,cu voalu-i caramiziu,trupul plapand al Lacrimei,gingasa ca o petala atinsa usor de prospetimea aerului puternic al zorilor.Uite asa facura Ielele frumoasele,cel mai fermecator ritual,in cautarea pierdutelor cuvinte ,invrednicind cu Timpul,tacuta povara a Intunericului,a Fiarei,in asteptarea solilor Luminii din Curcubeu,adunand Anotimpurile,Abisul si Adancul,in fratie-ngemanti,ca un ecou,un pod de vestejite frunze,chemand,in taina,curgerea in sus,a Izvorului din Munte,candela alba,oglindita in trecere,ca un string,adunand intr-un puternic vartej,soaptele undelor din ape si din aer.Primesc cu bucurie suflarea diminetii,adierea zefirului printre copaci.Durerea din genunchi s-a risipit,transformandu-se in crestaturi,pe peretii stancilor,in soaptele rugaciunii de inceput,pe care Lacrima a rastalmacit-o,cand au cazut  cuvintele,ca niste smaralde,clipocind in apa de izvor.
  • About this dark place,no one say,as the Beautiful Elves have slipped,graze her hands and feet.Like lost words,Beautiful Elves slid well.From dawn arrival rumors of deep Forest,such as Beast,concealed laws of Earth,just one perfume fibres from wood well sweep.Hidden among the rocks sharp stones,beast,a whistle in the night,the desert,for the gray cloak,woven by goblins,fallen like a torn shirt,the void abyss, bearing the words,the law misguided,in the pocket of the swelling of Amina, fairy,wearing prayers.Words were placed in night like bats,falling with silver flashing of fireflies,walnut wood fiber,bouncing slightly to fall dawn,when,murmuring mischievous,Beautiful Elves returned home going dawn,like petals of apple,the sweep fountain.When Orfida sat,words of law enchanted by her tenderness,fell rippling,like emeralds,crystal water,the spring of the fountain.Lost whispers ,remaining after all,were scattered then,like swirls of leaves and flowers of beech,red-gold maypole,like tears sitting at the root of the trees,the whirl,be scattered,gathering,as a poppy petals,bleeding easily,love the sun.With eyes bouncing off like lightning,over eyelash Heaven,Remifica settled,the Asure feet,caressing,with emerald hair,her beautiful silver straps sandals.Caroflora,covered in a hurry his forehead,laughing as a child kneeling,in silence,near Ona,in porch,covering,with her scarlet veil,feebly body of Tear,delicate as a petal,easily reached the fresh strong air of the morning.Look it,Beautiful Elves They made the most charming ritual,looking from lost words of the law,not to be lost,like orphans,in many directions,the world,worthy with time,quiet burden of Darkness,the Beast,waiting messengers Light the Rainbow,picking seasons,and deep abyss,in brotherhood intertwined,like an echo,a bridge of whitered leaves,calling,in secret,flow-up spring from the Mountain,white lamp,mirror,in passing,as a atring,gathering,in a powerful whirlpool,whispering waves of water and air.Receive with joy,morning breath zephyr breeze through the trees.Knees pain was wasted,turning into notches on the rock walls,in whispers prayer,the beginning,that Tear has distorted words when they fell,like emeralds,rippling in the water of spring.