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Vasile TĂRÂŢEANU

Anonymous   I’m the poet nobody talks about during the contemporary literature class teachers don’t rush in quest of my works and so far pupils haven’t called me names in their minds for being compelled to learn my poems by heart. My grieving soul doesn’t allow me to go on silence strike and, even if […]

Ana BLANDIANA

Without You   I’m freezing without you. I’ve never quite grasped How the air scents Your departure. The universe deflates Like a punctured ball, Scattering its icy shreds over me. The black dog Affectionately lying on the snow on its belly Rises to its feet and walks away Staring me in the eyes, Refusing to […]

Constanţa BUZEA

The Boundary   I fear that some day while loving me you might accept to spend the anguish through the thoughtfully immured night of our days there will always be a window between us so the kiss the words will shrink from tasting the illusion nor will there be any childbirth like the coldness of […]

Petre STOICA

On Litmus Paper   There are no more wild geese there are no more fairies with the golden curls the gingerbread house collapsed in the atomic bombing during the Punic Wars according to the celebrated chronicles where are our visionaries instead everywhere there are official press statements suave butterfly massacres where are our visionaries weep […]

Octavian PALER

A Futile Lesson in Logic   That’s the way things happen logically, we leave and arrive somewhere. We leave for an instant, for an hour, for a lifetime, perhaps we shouldn’t have left, but that’s not the problem, but the fact that we arrive somewhere, we always arrive somewhere, we may not arrive on time, we may […]

Nichita STĂNESCU

The poet just like the soldier has no private life. His private life is dust and ashes.   He uplifts in the claws of his convolutions the ant’s feelings and draws them, draws them nearer to his eye until they turn into his own eye.   He lends his ear to the belly of the […]

Cezar BALTAG

The Ball of Yarn   The most far-reaching road that can dwell within the utterly pygmaean hillock ; in fact the hill is nothing else than a road within the road.   Oh, what soreness, what twists and twirls, what wrappings and windings on the road that begets a hill !   How you bury […]

Grigore VIERU

Henceforth                                 “Happy is he who clearly bears in mind the name of a light.”   Henceforth, I might as well Live without my feet, Indeed, without them ― I’ve already reached the one I craved to reach.   And without my eyes, Indeed, without them, I’ve already seen the one I craved to see. […]

Ioanid ROMANESCU

Nothingness   I had been bestowed a wasteland I was supposed to make it fertile, to populate it and raise a temple in which to suffer humiliation   there ! it’s done : a river of sounds, a procession of shadows and my empty grave since death has thrown my ashes in the eyes of […]

Ştefan Augustin DOINAŞ

Reiteration   Space ― but how could come into sight that place-nonplace dwelt by indefinitely goldening hymns, where time throbs like a chaste halleluiah amongst clouds ?   The space in which we yearn and wane did not exist : we have nourished it together. Everything is dainty there, and sacred, quencing the thirst of […]