Cersetori care pe unde

"-Unde e Voda?!? Dumnezeu vrea sa-l vada!
Rupe in laturi pamantul cu furtuni
rascoleste in crupe de cai
desparte scafarlii de maimute
semintele de mac si
ale nisipurilor boabe una cate una, toate
a spalat Taborul cu sangele calugarilor
pan' la unul, pe care
il pune sa-si crape in doua toiagul
Asta seara-si cata Domnul fiul."
"-Nu poate.
I-aiurea, in bratele lumii."
"-Sa vie din ele!!!"
"-In toiul noptii?? Si ploua
Tuna. Pe-asa vijelie?
Ce rost?"
"-Judecata!!!"
...dar cand ridicat din malul pardoselii
fruntea tarata tot drumul de mana ingereasca
i-o vede Sfantul, si incepe-a plange
...i se uda obrazul ce-l vad batran intaia data
"Buclele! Buclele fiului meu, unde-s??!
si genele lungi...
gura i-i latita, obrajii i-s
in peri de barbat!..
Unde-i din ochi-i sclipirea virgina?!?"
Il scutura-amarnic
de-si scuipa suflarea ce-mbraca-n turturi padurea
"-Unde-i doamna?!!"
Rau il palmuieste Tatal
si-atunci rage printre grindini domnitorul
galben dintr-odata:
"-UNDE E?!!
Voda vrea s-o vada!!!"
"-Ceri tarziu!
Si nu mai esti in drept a cere!"
Cine-ar fi crezut sa fie tocmai asta
ziua cand Parintele ceresc nu mai iarta?
Isi bate fiul prost ca pe-un demon
l-aduna El in loc a mai sta-n a
genunghilor intregi asteptare
Scufunda degetele,obisnuite-a tese fulger,
prin plamanul stang al nenorocitului
ii lasa ochii sa se caste sugrumati si
scoate nou-nascuta
o aratare de 7 ori 17, ca nu poti alege,
ani, impietrita
ia monstrul firav de gheara putina
grijeste la pielea slaba, nedospita si
cum urca-alaturea-napoi in Ceruri
se vede-aievea ce era sapat in carnea
de pe spatele umilei pocitanii:
"Unde e Dumnezeu?...
doamna-a carui suflet nu-s
hranita greu de ultima suflare
ar vrea sa-L vada..."




"-

Wild psalm

There are thousands of Christs on the sides of my paths
There's scent of mushrooms and mint all around
first one has been laid by the fat moon
second is coming from the curve of my hips
I'm also lily now and
strawberries and honey
nailed bleeding palms join endlessly for my defense
Faith multiplies at the sight of the woman


But the signs are all here
I shall be cast out
for I haven't sinned
You will deport me this very night
to a frozen dry land where
I'll be living on the soap made out of officers' bones
my guardians
You are going to do that every night
for the rest of your life
longer than mine, that is


...mind the lioness that cries
on the night the adulterous hyenas
celebrate their reelection

Only thing I can't see anymore

There shall be trouble ahead when
you let a man provide you with food
and take you in from the pouring rain
before a fire
Men have no mercy during night time


You haven't slapped me
nor have you ordered: Lady quit messing around
and open your legs at once
my trembling hand couldn't find a knife
for your lust to drive your throat in
I didn't live to become The devil's whore
or be revived after a hanging
and ask Cromwell for a wedding gift

But I do lead my own war against
the acid you've poured years ago into my eyes
for having refused your marriage proposal
and against the desperate hearts and fingers
of the hundreds of brothers of yours
reaching out for me
throughout the days of my life after you

Asa ti-i aperi Doamne

N-ar avea niciun rost
sa ma rog, Doamne, sa ma lasi muta,
pentru ca atunci
mi s-ar intari ochii cu asupra de masura
cu siguranta
Si dumneata ii iubesti
pe toti
deci n-ai ingadui oricum
asta

Tapii lumii

Lumea, nu va amagiti,
e doar o talpa
tampla mea, sprijinul ei
grauntele, ce-i drept, copt,
dar destul de alungit pentru ea
De aici, de dedesubt,
eu cer lucrurilor sa se intample,si,
spre disperarea mea
ma asculta
Vedeti, eu nu m-am vrut
niciodata
si mai ales printre capetele imparatesti
mie nu-mi lipseste coroana
dar voi insiva aveti, toti,
gura plina de mine si
atata vreme cat veti fi si fara de dubii cu desavarsire
voi continua sa trec
cu caraus si cocoasa cu tot
mugind
prin urechea deja tocita
de drumurile mele
a acului


Cum ar fi oare
sa iesi intr-o zi in ploaie
si sa-ncepi sa tragi in ei
in toti
Nu cumva s-ar scurge inapoi in tine
linistea-ti scalciata pana acum
de dintii trupurilor ce tremura pe rand in aer
s-apoi isi dau duhul ghiftuit de toate durerile tale
in vreme ce ultima suflare le plesneste
slitul
ori sutienele
pavajul, membrele in pozitii de circ
iar moartea, cate un ultim ranjet

Ai putea respira apoi iar
in sfarsit
fara miros tare de cauciuc ars in nari
si fara dungi regulate
sapate adanc in obraz

true story

"She looks at you empty
Talks at you blind
about the evil lilies in the world
on which no one warns anyone or
of the sun eating her legs every day

Watch out, for as tears flood over her pretty face
while her hands painfully draw in the air,
the wide stories of the village's mad tramp
roll all over your body
as soon as she sets sight on you for a glance
break every bone in it and
free all of your blood as if you had been dug from arab soil

Sudden fountains as yourself
open in every street corner where
she stops running for a breath and
people have started mistaking her for an unleashed chupacabra
as this is the amount of sympathy most humans show for pain
but you, of all should know that
it's just her siren like scent of freeze"

This is a letter she wrote when she last woke, two centuries ago
...now change your dirty torn clothes,
stop your rumbling about lilies,
know the sun has no teeth and
run, run for your life!Run, I tell you, for she's fast!

degeaba in arca

Am facut pace cu moartea
acum umblam alaturea
ea-mi da ordine ca-n armata
eu aterizez pe burta si-mi sfasii sanii si
imi pierd din maruntaie pe drum
luam numai carari de piatra concasata
albiile de rau imi par moi in ultima vreme
Moartea rade
rad si eu inmediat ce da sa ranjeasca
precum copiii cand miros momentul de ingaduinta
al parintelui beat
...ati fi auzit multe povesti cu dinti galbeni
comparatii cu perle putrede...
perlele pot putrezi
...in ochii ftizicilor, de pilda
nimic nu se compara, insa, cu galbenusul asta
rasul mucegait al mortii
prafuieste cand se scutura asupra soldatoilor ei
ne ineaca vesnic cu faina lui
ne lipeste gatlejul deolalta
si ne irita groaznic ochii
Tovarasa mea, moartea, imi stoarce otet pe buze, la rastimpuri!
Ai rade sa stii cat ma bucur atunci
fiindca
mi-e de cumplit de demult sete
fiindca
ma tarasti asa, de ani de zile
6. ca la zaruri.
6. ca-n glumele ce manjesc
Daca as fi murit de gatul unei rulete
daca sfarseam siluita cu un cutit
"la un anumit nivel"
criticii moderni ar fi vazut liricul povestii mele
asa, nu e decat ca m-am impacat cu moartea
mea
doar a mea, stai linistit
bolnavicios de proprie, ca un galci de secol II i.Hr.