| TOAMNA ... | IN THE FALL ... |
| Flavia Cosma | tr. the poet with Matt Loftin |
Toamna Imi eşti mai drag decât oricând; Toamna care gingaş te adună In zecile de chipuri anonime, Trudite, somnoroase. Părul tău, fân secerat pe câmpie, Reflectă raza caldă a verii ce-a trecut, Ochii tăi, sori bolnavi, Lucesc cu febre mari Prin ceţurile joase. Ca un prinţ mlădios, Ca un vis rătăcit, Te risipeşti cu bruma-n dimineaţă, Frigul copil te schimbă, luminos, In pături fragile de gheaţă. Timpul sleit cu migală se trece; Ca pâinea ne dospeşte-n piept suspinul. In amintire cad ca-n'tro fântână, Aerul veşted bătând Cu mâinile, aripi neputincioase. | In the fall You're dearer to me than ever. The season softly collects you, In dozen of anonymous faces, Exhausted from exertion. Your hair, fresh hay from the plain, Shines warm rays of the past summer, Your eyes, ailing suns, Burn through lowly fogs With incensed fevers. A lithe prince, A wandered dream, You scatter with the hoarfrost in the morning. The youthful cold radiantly shapes you Into fragile sheets of ice. Spent, syruped time passes by, The sob yeasts in our chests like a dough. I fall into a well of memories, Thrashing the withered air With my hands, hopeless wings. |
Copyright © Flavia Cosma 2007