luni, 27 aprilie 2009

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Nevoia de perfecţiune
naşte mici demoni transLucizi
ce joacă ping pong pe stradă
îi recunoşti după chipiul verde.

Nevoia de bine
naşte foamea de firesc
ce se hrăneşte cu dorinţele şi gândurile
trecătorilor de pe strada cu demoni.

Nevoia de iubire
naşte minciuni strălucitoare şi călduţe
se umplu străzile, plămânii, ochii cu ele

Toate din nevoia de a fi.

vineri, 10 aprilie 2009


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Love, a question
has destroyed you.

I have come back to you
from thorny uncertainty.

I want you straight as
the sword or the road.

But you insist
on keeping a nook
of shadow that I do not want.

My love,
understand me,
I love all of you,
from eyes to feet, to toenails,
all the brightness, which you kept.

It is I, my love,
who knocks at your door.
It is not the ghost, it is not
the one who once stopped
at your window.
I knock down the door:
I enter your life:
I come to live in your soul:
you cannot cope with me.

You must open door to door,
you must obey me,
you must open your eyes
so that I may search in them,
you must see how I walk
with heavy steps
along all the roads
that, blind, were waiting for me.

Do not fear,
I am yours,
I am not the passenger or the beggar,
I am your master,
the one you were waiting for,
and now I enter
your life,
no more to leave it,
love, love, love,
but to stay.

Pablo Neruda