Creation Category:
the exodus of angels
mornings glistened with angels
snowing syncope on the blue asphalt
until the sky robbed
the shy winged shirt
of the afterlife
hardly breathing while ripening
solfeggios burdened by light
getting old
half of me was you
frail symmetry
dressed in seagulls
destined to unknown seas
some time ago
we were dreaming
guided by a blind angel
fog gossamers enfolded in waves
only the fear of flight
has stilled us, darling
so we were left
with blizzard effigies
on faces
or unspeakable burdens
to the irreversible passage
of angels
(Translated by Luminita Suse)
exodul îngerilor
diminețile se umezeau de îngeri
sincope fulguind pe caldarâmuri albastre
pânã când cerul purta
cãmașa sfielnicã de aripi
a celuilalt tãrâm
abia respiram rodind
solfegii sub povara luminii
încãrunțitã
jumãtate din mine erai tu
firavã simetrie
îmbrãcatã-n cocori
predestinați mãrilor neștiute
visam cândva
cãlãuziți de-un înger orb
grinduri de ceațã zidite prin valuri
doar teama de zbor
ne-a-mpietrit, iubite
de ne-au rãmas efigii de viscol
pe chipuri
sau doar nemãrturisite poveri
trecerii ireversibile
a îngerilor.
Marina Nicolaev
mornings glistened with angels
snowing syncope on the blue asphalt
until the sky robbed
the shy winged shirt
of the afterlife
hardly breathing while ripening
solfeggios burdened by light
getting old
half of me was you
frail symmetry
dressed in seagulls
destined to unknown seas
some time ago
we were dreaming
guided by a blind angel
fog gossamers enfolded in waves
only the fear of flight
has stilled us, darling
so we were left
with blizzard effigies
on faces
or unspeakable burdens
to the irreversible passage
of angels
(Translated by Luminita Suse)
exodul îngerilor
diminețile se umezeau de îngeri
sincope fulguind pe caldarâmuri albastre
pânã când cerul purta
cãmașa sfielnicã de aripi
a celuilalt tãrâm
abia respiram rodind
solfegii sub povara luminii
încãrunțitã
jumãtate din mine erai tu
firavã simetrie
îmbrãcatã-n cocori
predestinați mãrilor neștiute
visam cândva
cãlãuziți de-un înger orb
grinduri de ceațã zidite prin valuri
doar teama de zbor
ne-a-mpietrit, iubite
de ne-au rãmas efigii de viscol
pe chipuri
sau doar nemãrturisite poveri
trecerii ireversibile
a îngerilor.
Marina Nicolaev
