How hard it is for me to leave,

more so because of your melancholic thoughts

without looking back, to search for the light left behind,

light you once used to touch my face and hands

when our ancestral fears penetrate our bones

fears of bitter truths scattered into an old,

heavy nightfall after long hours of love

always borrowing, our repeatable routine

a destiny condemned to relativity

crying in a dead tongue

a lonely bird turning after the sun

far away – since near-by exists no-longer

leaves that fall in front of you

never gales that could erase

our own traces,

of a last kiss,

in a Cairo museum 

 

(Petcu Luminta)      

 ***

How shaken I am by a single gesture

that hurried kiss on a Montmartre bench

I was holding your hand tight

I was looking for you in corners with no light

blinking my eyes attempting to perceive your crevasses,

of which you were unable to get out

but you were mimicking an utmost happiness

everything seemed extrapolated to the fifth decimal digit

and yes, your knee did hurt me

the eye hidden in my left palm

the hurried departures did cause me pain,

the one-way train tickets

my body did contract with every ship siren

I have a pathological uneasiness

when your hand,

absentmindedly raises to gather the hair on your back

with a simple gesture,

devoid of living.

(Adrian G)

***

English translation: Rafael Manory