Tuesday 27 April 2010

Were we only white birds...



Would that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam of the sea!

We tire of the flame of the meteor, before it can fade and flee;

And the flame of the blue star of twilight, hung low on the rim of the sky,

Has awakened in our hearts, my beloved, a sadness that may not die.


A weariness comes from those dreamers, dew-dabbled, the lily and rose;

Ah, dream not of them, my beloved, the flame of the meteor that goes,

Or the flame of the blue star that lingers hung low in the fall of the dew:

For I would we were changed to white birds on the wandering foam: I and you!


I am haunted by numberless islands, and many a Danaan shore,

Where Time would surely forget us, and Sorrow come near us no more;

Soon far from the rose and the lily, and fret of the flames would we be,

Were we only white birds, my beloved, buoyed out on the foam of the sea!

(W.B. Yeats: The White Birds)


Friday 23 April 2010

Clipa cea lentă





Ceraselei, cu drag, unul din locurile în care ne odihnim împreună.


Wednesday 14 April 2010

The colours of my childhood


At first, these were the colours of my world.
The space was vast; an endless world of faded colours.







But then, one day, from within the vastness of my world,
I noticed the change of light and tones.






And then they gathered all the paint brushes from other worlds
and changed the coulouring of mine.



Suddenly, the vastness shrunk.



Red invades my memories. It could have been alizarine red.



Or a light shade of moss green.






Or maybe an assortment of greens, whites, and grays.



It was only when I returned that it all came back to me.

It was as simple as watching the sky above.

All shades of blue...










Blue is the colour of my childhood.






Thursday 8 April 2010

Après quoi, tu dis : je vole


Mai întâi îţi strângi umerii,
mai apoi te înalţi pe vârful picioarelor,
închizi ochii
refuzi auzul.
Îţi spui în sine:
acum voi zbura.
Apoi zici:
Zbor
Şi acesta e zborul.

Tout d'abord tu serres tes épaules
ensuite tu t'élèves sur la pointe des pieds
tu fermes les yeux
et te bouches les oreilles.
Tu te dis à toi-même :
maintenant, je vais voler.
Après quoi, tu dis :
je vole
et c'est juste cela le vol.


Îţi strângi umerii
cum se strâng râurile într-un singur fluviu.
Îţi închizi ochii
cum închid norii câmpia.
Te-nalţi pe vârful picioarelor
cum se înalţă piramida pe nisip.
Refuzi auzul,
auzul unui singur secol,
şi-apoi îţi spui în sinea ta:
acum voi zbura
de la naştere spre moarte.
După aceea zici:
Zbor
Şi acesta e timpul.


Tu serres les épaules
à la manière des rivières qui se rassemblent dans un seul fleuve.
Tu fermes les yeux
pareillement aux nuages qui encerclent le champ.
Tu te hausses sur la pointe des pieds
telle la pyramide qui s'élève sur le sable.
Tu renonces complètement à l'ouïe
l'ouïe de tout un siècle
ensuite tu te dis à toi-même :
maintenant, je volerai
dès ma naissance jusqu'à la mort.
Après quoi tu te dis encore :
je vole -
et c'est bien cela le temps.



(Lecţia de zbor: Nichita Stănescu)/(La leçon de vol: Nichita Stănescu; Traduit du roumain par Constantin Crişan)


Sunday 4 April 2010

Things I should know

My photo
Starea ta naturala (perfecţiunea) nu este nici entuziasmul, nici descurajarea. Starea ta naturală este liniştea. * Iubirea musei nu e pasională, e totală. Musa cunoaşte ceva asemănător adoraţiei, dar mai adânc, mai liniştit. Vă scriu din altă lume... * (Gellu Naum: Calea Şearpelui)

Things you should know


All photographs and texts belong to me unless otherwise noted.