Nichita STANESCU



 
 
 
 
 
 
 


To the well digger

Donít dig too deep, Iím telling you,
Donít dig too deep, donít
for you are to come across the sky
for you are to come across the sky
another sky, some other stars, Iím telling you,
another sky, some other stars
and among them, over there,
another earth, another earth.
 

Living creature

 My heart I feel getting cold inside me,
 my brain I feel getting icy,
good-bye, maximum life,
good-bye, my minimum life!

 my writing hand I feel
turning into a hemp bundle of smoke,
good-bye, snow,
good-bye, cloud !

the words fading away I feel,
their meanings also,
good-bye, Iím saying
to all the crosses on the graves,

and to this last second also
when Iím still beseeching you,
still beseeching you:
think no more of yourself, think no more of myself !

Knot 23

 I have stolen my baby body
I have swaddled it,
I have placed it in a wicker basket-
and into the river I have cast it
to float away and in the delta die.

The heartbroken fisherman ill-fated, miserable and wretched
is just coming to me
with it in his arms.
 

Knot 3

My eyes could no longer shed tears
but eyes-
my orbits kept giving birth to eyes-
so that I may  come to ease, if only I could come to ease.

Ah, you, my hands,
I cried,
stop crying with hands !

Ah, my body, I cried,
 stop crying with bodies!

Ah, my life, I cried,
stop crying with life !

I covered myself
 but there kept on rolling at random
beneath the shroud,
 eyes, hands, bodies, life
 

Through the orange tunnel

Whom shall I punish through my death?
Which violet shall I bereave of violet-blue?
For which eye
 is my joy of living a tear?
Why have you given me more than my transient wall?
Why am I bound to think with my sight?
Why am I bound to hold one apple in either hand
As long as my hand holds itself
and feels no pain?
(Traducere de Olimpia Iacob)


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