Articles tagged "Romanian Literature"
The Bicycle Factory
In 1966, Romanian dictator Nicolae Ceauşescu issued Decree 770, criminalizing abortion. After that, women found their own ways to end unwanted pregnancies, no matter the risk. With money and contacts,…...
Mihail Sebastian’s “The Accident”
A first encounter with the Romanian writer Mihail Sebastian (1907-1945), and his novel The Accident, might benefit from some personal context—a little of mine, and a good bit of the author’s.…...
from “The Same Way Every Day”
A plump face, an old suit with a too-long skirt, her hair permed. Nana looked like that when she’d met us, at the beginning of the first year at the university. Older than she would seem…...
Lockjaw
I walk toward the mill To meet my quiet father He walks on grass-covered paths His foot in a child's shoe The mill got swept away by the river Two wars have since gone by Father was taken away later…...
Father’s Return from War. Topics
Father went to war. Then he died in the war. When our neighbors found out the news, they looked at us, Mother and me, with pity. Later on they found out that Father did not die but he had eloped with a…...
Counterfeits
how many words do we need to make ourselves clear? in cubicles and cells papered with thick letters we throw each other all-purpose slogans air balls that slam us in the chest, knock us down flying erratically—…...
Suppositions
what would the savior have looked like grown old? would he still have lent his severe, nostalgic face to the builders of churches to the arrogant destroyers in quest of myths or guilty would he have healed…...
On Packing
Everything I have I carry with me. Or: everything that's mine I carry on me. I carried everything I had. It wasn't actually mine. It was either intended for a different purpose or somebody else's.…...
after pompeii
I borrow a stocking pull it down over my eyes today I see as I can't be seen I feel like the dog at pompeii shrouded in lava it is written that the time will come when we see each other face to face…...
claustrophobia
in the cellar, my father dead for so many years among madmen and deaf mutes their pants pockets stuffed with money and passports outside, lonely horses shod with crescent moons and crosses I feel seasick…...
Deaf as a Log
for ioan flora store windows in which I can see you as a blur– the animals make way for me to kiss the glass. you're deaf as a log I ask myself why you ever came here to cry over the human race.…...
Pastoral
An expansion of plants with water fingers Drink this and look The laced skirts of raw milk The subterranean giants drowned in the azure And lakes open mouths have remained frozen Four oxen under a tree,…...
Inscription on a Tomb
And I felt your pure and sad soul As you'd feel the moon float in silence Behind drawn curtains. And I felt your poor and bashful soul, Like a beggar, hand stretched at the gate,…...
I
Life is full of unexplainable things. But, moreover, it is full of me. To be better heard, I repeat, ladies: it is full of me. From this you will deduce that I too am one of those unexplainable things,…...
Last Night
From the trees planted by dusk in our rooms that were set on fire we'll slowly untie the glass pigeons, that eternal foliage; they'll grow rustling on our shoulders and arms, and there will be…...
A Kiss
On the intergalactic station Malmorius, Jaspar the Terrible feverishly prepares for the decisive attack. Who knows where in the Central Desert of Athyria, Commander Z. checks the converters one by one,…...
Friend midear
Friend Midear, you won't understand but listen The pain I cannot weep into a handkerchief The words are somber like a procession of kings For your soul with sad, dry lakes I called you with lots of…...
A Letter to Ernesto Sábato
Author's note Ernesto Sábato's novel Abaddón el exterminador (1974) includes a dense epistolary chapter addressed to a virtual fellow writer, which begins "Dear, distant young man..."…...
Poem for Marianne’s Shadow
Love's mint has grown like an angel's finger. To believe: out of the earth an arm twisted by silence still rises, a shoulder burned by torrid extinguished lights, a face, the eyes blindfolded by…...
from The Lost Country
The Gypsy Princess and the Nightingale The truth is that, in the days of yore, the Gypsies had a country. Now they keep searching for it in vain, the wheels of their wagons wearing ruts in the roads as…...
Beretta
It was simple it was evening it was October, Beretta, mon amour. You didn't even realize how I transmute from a mole, hounded through galleries of all sorts (oh, where did the euglena viridis about…...
Mynheer
It is bitter, each Passover, to read, in the luxury and voluptuousness of being The solitude of the four boards from the palm slapped over the cheek the morning tear urged against the abandonment of oneself…...
L’apparition
One day the Great Theme will arrive,
opening the windows,
it will sit down at our table,
will drink the intact wine,
will shake us to the core.
The most beautiful…...
Red and White
I can't reread my old poems
the being that wrote them distanced herself from me,
with my very own hand I chased her away.
I couldn't stand to see her wallowing
in…...