The Lily of the Valley Verb
The lily of the valley verb –
like a golden bulldozer
among the ruins
of the rotten verbs –
leaves behind a clean foundation
for the building site
of the Holy Light…
The verb having
lily of the valley flames
melts the gold, the brass, the desert,
the ice floes, the iron
and moulds the statues
of the truth, lining them face to face,
on either side of the way
which leads into the bright sight of the being…
The lily of the valley verb
makes the leap
into the non-linear,
towards the Edenequitterra… !
With Mr Cantemir on Nichita Stănescu,
the First President of the World Republic of Poetry
Encyclopaedicus, Motherland’s Poet bites off the absolute
on the threshold of Paradise and becomes immortal.
Mr. Cantemir, I first saw him at the heart of the cave, riding
the bear of the North Star to take the typhoon by the horns…
Later on, at the foot of the mountain, amongst flowers carved
in bones, I caught a glimpse of him somersaulting three times,
spreading beams, metamorphosing into an egg of snow
as great as a house, leaning against the triangle-like bank,
near the seven spear-fir trees – six fir trees of darkness
and one of lightning… Yet from the fir tree branches
Half-a-Man showed up with a sword of chromium and a gold
spike on his head to split the egg into halves : he named
the starry sky a “lyrosopher”, he called the Earth’s table-shaped
body – rooting from the agate waters – a “poet” ; the galaxy
of sounds witnessed the harmonious number ; the dancing
sphere rolling two swan necks dropped hieroglyphs
amongst the haystacks of beams… Encyclopaedicus,
Motherland’s Poet bends his right knee
on the nape of Mount Kogaion, frightening the chamois,
the edelweiss flowers, while his left ankle is entwined
by the comet’s tail…
Mr. Cantemir, Motherland’s Poet,
the messenger in the azure, in the rainbow’s lift,
appears many a time as a warrior against the vile gods, making
the forests on their crowns stand on end like bludgeons…
Encyclopaedicus, at the hour of the sublime, Motherland’s Poet
attends the anatomy lesson of Prince Charming –
and, from the dissection table, from amongst scalpels,
he rises one and a half-winged ; if he sections
the magnetism, the lines of force trace his Antarctic
where, when you take out an arrow and shoot at random,
the penguins put on purple aprons – it’s a sign that
Motherland’s Poet merges into the Word with his gold neurons ;
when he hangs skylarks on his glances,
the eyes of the world learn how to spread beams ;
even if his hearing is wrapped in nightingales,
he can still distinguish the number imprinted on the hours
of the sun… Mr. Cantemir, when the Phoenix bird burns to
death, you come across Motherland’s Poet crucified
in its shadow, a new Christ wearing the crown
of ember thorns, of blazing elytra…
Please, Encyclopaedicus, saw
the newly dug up
statue of the Ponto-Danubian Wise Man
from top to toe
and you’ll find Motherland’s Poet in the heart’s auricle,
reading the crystal book of the Thinker’s Wife… !
Tear the ventral skies open – and his smile
will greet you in the mirror of the bayonet… !
When he writes, Mr. Cantemir, with his quill
pulled out from his wing, out of the bluish-grey abyss,
the language of each and all lips is cutting its wisdom tooth…
This very morning I took a look at the cumuli
of the testaments and caught sight of Motherland’s Poet,
brisker than the angels, holding dewy gladioli
for the stars in the eyes of the Wallachian language.
Mr. Cantemir, Motherland’s Poet repeals
the dictatorship of the sterile round of applause
and guides along the weather satellite of Edenequitterra.
16th October 1983
English version by Gabriela PACHIA