Arid / Dry

Cand nu mai pot nici sa plang, lacrimile se transforma in versuri, cuvinte si note muzicale, razbesc pentru cateva secunde doar in lumea de afara, se incarca de sens si apoi se intorc spasite acasa. Atunci ma gandesc la tine, incerc iar, in zadar, sa dau pagina, cu mana usor tremuranda, si in loc sa inchid cartea, mai scriu un paragraf.

Sursa foto

Nu mai ploua pe strada mea. Norii stau gata sa se rupa, in fiecare zi, furtuna se dezlantuie numai la mine in suflet, cateodata devenind uragan si maturand totul in cale, ca sa se astearna apoi linistea. Totul e prafuit in jur, timpul ne-a facut pe toti pudra fina si ne-a imprastiat aiurea, farame din tine cu farame din mine, zacand fara sens pe trotuar, pe geam, pe frunze. Si fiecare pala de vant ne amesteca si ne desparte, si tanjesc dupa ploaie, sa ne spele, sa ne adune, sa ne ascunda, sa ne inece.

A trecut anul si nici nu mai stiu daca mai doare. Iti zambesc larg, fara subintelesuri, mai sincera decat am fost vreodata. Ma hranesc zilnic cu lumina din privirea ta, pasind cate o secunda in intunericul dulce-amarui al sufletului drag, fara sa incerc macar sa deslusesc povestile innodate acolo.

Timpul ma intareste, imi privesc carcasa calcifiata si simt constant cum se extinde, cuprinzand treptat fiecare coltisor de fiinta. Sunt clipe cand nu mai simt nimic, in afara de tine, stropul de viata din sufletul meu. Si as vrea sa stii cum imi salvezi viata zilnic, dar mi-as dori sa nu ti-o spun niciodata.

***

When I can't even cry anymore, the tears turn into verses, words and musical notes, they linger for a few seconds only in the outside world, they charge with meaning and then they return home spastic. Then I think of you, try again, in vain, to turn the page, with a slightly trembling hand, and instead of closing the book, I write another paragraph.

It's not raining on my street anymore. The clouds stand ready to break, every day, the storm rages only at my soul, sometimes becoming a hurricane and ripening everything in its path, to then stand still. Everything around is dusty, time has made us all fine dust and scattered us haphazardly, shards of you with shards of me, lying senseless on the sidewalk, on the window, on the leaves. And every wind blade mixes us and separates us, and yearns for rain, to wash us, to gather us, to hide us, to drown us.

It's been a year and I don't even know if it hurts anymore. I smile wide, without undertones, more sincere than I've ever been. I feed daily on the light in your gaze, stepping for a second into the bittersweet darkness of your dear soul, without even trying to unravel the stories knotted there.

Time hardens me, I look at my calcified carcass and constantly feel how it expands, gradually encompassing every corner of being. There are moments when I feel nothing but you, the splash of life in my soul. And I wish you knew how you save my life every day, but I wish I never told you.

Optimism

Am ajuns odata cu inserarea. Pe maini aveam sange rosu, cald, in suflet aveam un gol mare. Ma priveai crud si rece, dezamagit de tot, scarbit de mine. Murisem si inviasem acolo, sub privirea ta usor sfidatoare, ma tavalisem pe jos, in propria mea rutina, bolnava de tine, umilita de griji, indoita de ganduri negre.

Sursa foto

Mi-am sters fata de lacrimile care curgeau fierbinti pe obrazul meu crapat, si am lasat o dara de sange coborand incet de la ochi catre barba. Am simtit sagetile privirii tale si am stiut acolo, pe loc, ca era ultima secunda.

Incepuse sa ninga. Ascultam muzici ciudate si ma rugam sa-i fie bine. Si ninsoarea ma ascundea de privirea neiertatoare, de toate credintele nefondate, de juraminte, minciuni si ambiguitati. Simteam ca fiecare fulg care imi atingea fata e fierbinte si ma arde, lasand cratere adanci in piele. Mi-am ascuns ochii o secunda si ati disparut, cu totii.

Am ramas singura, pe strada pustie si rece, cu gandurile si grijile sfidandu-ma, cu rasetele care ma asurzeau, cu gandul la sfarsit, si cu rugaciunea in suflet: sa-i fie bine. Si mi-am dorit in secret sa ma salvez salvandu-l pe el.

Spre dimineata m-am ridicat din noroi ca sa fac loc celorlalti. Am clipit des si mi-am admirat mainile curate cu care am pipait apoi obrajii reci.

Soarele stralucea. O sa-i fie bine!

***

I arrived once the evening came. There was warm, red blood on my hands, a big hole in my soul. You were looking at me raw and cold, disappointed in everything, disgusted with me. I had died and gone back there, under your slightly defiant gaze, I was wallowing on the floor, in my own routine, sick of you, humiliated by worry, bent by dark thoughts.

I wiped my face of the tears that ran hot down my cracked cheek, and let a trickle of blood slowly run down from my eyes to my beard. I felt the arrows of your gaze and knew right there and then that it was the last second.

It had begun to snow. I listened to strange music and prayed for his well-being. And the snow hid me from the unforgiving gaze, from all the unfounded beliefs, from oaths, lies and ambiguities. I felt every flake that touched my face hot and burning, leaving deep cracks in my skin. I hid my eyes for a second and you disappeared, all of you.

I was left alone, on the cold deserted street, thoughts and worries defying me, laughter deafening me, the thought of the end, and the prayer in my heart: be well. And I secretly wished I could save myself by saving him.

Towards morning I got up from the mud to make room for the others. I blinked often and admired my clean hands with which I then pecked my cold cheeks.

The sun was shining. He'll be fine!

Despre rataciri / About wandering

Cu fiecare clipa care trece, cu fiecare gand care mi se perinda de dimineata pana in miez din noapte prin creierii obositi, cu fiecare zambet fortat sau hohot retinut, cu fiecare lacrima potolita, cu fiecare soapta secreta, simt cum te pierd.

Sursa foto

Aluneci treptat intr-o uitare grea, iar cand tacerea ta ma amuteste, uit sa mai respir. Iau apoi guri mari de aer, cu sperante impletite, colorate, ravasite, pentru a ma pregati pentru urmatoarea scufundare.

In apa deschid ochii mari si vad valurile navalind peste mine, de un albastru-verzui curat, crud si salbatic ca ochii tai, neintelesi. Si-mi amintesc de cate ori am incercat sa le sparg portile, sa le deslusesc misterul, sa le interpretez chemarea spre abis.

Si-n scufundare simt pulsul cum mi se linisteste, golul din piept mi se umple si in sfarsit nu ma mai gandesc la ce ma doare. Traiesc momentul, inconjurata de apele ce ma strang ironic in corsetul libertatii.

Raman ratacita, intre tarm si larg, plutind pe o pana roz, cu o mana intinsa, pe care nu o vezi, cu un strigat inabusit pe buze, pe care nu l-ai auzit, carand in spate cufarul cu amintiri care ma trage catre adancuri.

Cu fiecare zi in care mai mor cate un pic te caut si sper sa te regasesc, mai mult decat pentru o secunda, mai mult decat in vis, sa-ti fiu mai aproape ca umbra, mai calda ca rasuflarea, mai puternica ca vointa.

Respir sacadat si stau nemiscata, de teama sa nu sperii linistea. A mai trecut o zi.

***

With every passing moment, with every thought that wanders through my weary brain from morning till midnight, with every forced smile or held-back sob, with every quiet tear, with every secret whisper, I feel myself losing you.

You gradually slip into a heavy oblivion, and when your silence stuns me, I forget to breathe. I then take big gulps of air, with braided, coloured, ragged hopes, to prepare for the next dive.

In the water I open my eyes wide and see the waves lapping over me, pure blue-green, raw and wild like your eyes, unintelligible. And I remember how many times I tried to break through their gates, to unravel their mystery, to interpret their call to the abyss.

And as I dive I feel my pulse calming, the emptiness in my chest filling and finally I no longer think about what hurts. I live in the moment, surrounded by the waters that ironically squeeze me into the corset of freedom.

I remain lost, between the shore and the open sea, floating on a pink feather, with an outstretched hand that you can't see, with a muffled cry on my lips that you haven't heard, carrying the chest of memories that pulls me to the depths.

Each day I die a little more I seek you and hope to find you, more than for a second, more than in a dream, to be closer to you than shadow, warmer than breath, stronger than will.

I breathe shakily and sit still, not to frighten the silence away. Another day has passed.