Daily Archives: decembrie 5, 2013

Symmetries -Simmetrie -Simetrii

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual text

The man was wandering in the lap of the sea
In search of the lost boat
.
The little golden fish on a stool at the shore
holding the fishing rod between the lugs, in the hook is a synthetic siren
Said: ,,today I will give fishing a man, if you catch
I will let go back into the water – but by then, it will not be the same again …
definitely will try to dismantle the siren, losing an illusion
and the sea will not receive it,
.
In the night, the boat, empty, anchored to the opposite shore
Charon was not more.
.
little golden fish, dozing too,
Without the sun it becomes trivial
.
So, the sky has gained a new sign pearly … and
No one has the courage to give name

Image

L’uomo vagava nel grembo del mare
Nella ricerca della barca persa

Vezi articolul original 217 cuvinte mai mult


The tenderness of snow – La tenerezza della neve -Tandrețea zăpezii

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual text

The tenderness of snow is fake this time
The sky is dressed as a bride who runs away

A candlestick cold shuts down over sunset
I’ve never seen snow before, the snowflakes are nails
target aiming my eyes, forehead, they carve new names
for solitudes hoary…

Then, from the black womb comes the dawn of basalt
and too late the light… cure fears

these tiny white balls are the prayers of children
turned
We, those with the experience, we will not receive answer,
like the blind birds we will cross worlds of water and smoke
deprived also of this latter false tenderness

Image

La tenerezza della neve stavolta è finta
Il cielo è vestito come una sposa che scappa via

Un candelabro freddo si spegne oltre tramonto
non ho mai visto neve da un tempo, gli fiocchi di neve son unghie
mirando miei occhi, la fronte, intagliando nuovi nomi
per…

Vezi articolul original 134 de cuvinte mai mult


Do not put ever ice in wine – Nel vino non si mette mai del ghiaccio – În vin nu se pune gheață

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual text

He looked at the people on the street through the dirty cup of wine
and saying that women are wept, that the beard at men are in bizarre colors…!
a smoke and eyes as dashed from a sling, glued
the missing part of the miniskirt of the saleswoman
sell fake sounds lascivious, from second-hand…
listening to the rustle of tires on wet asphalt
attacked the mouth of the cup by the wall
he knew
what brand of car passed, the last one was a Mercedes of funerals
had not finished the wine, nor fears, he sipped cautiously,
lived the peace of a madman sedated – she painted the room in flames
and slept in bed with a bag of ice cubes, cubes with thin voice
and in wine do not put ever ice
palpated the air, taking it in his fist, fearing
if it ends up the air…

Vezi articolul original 523 de cuvinte mai mult


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