{"id":15920,"date":"2021-09-17T11:26:31","date_gmt":"2021-09-17T08:26:31","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/?p=15920"},"modified":"2021-09-17T11:32:41","modified_gmt":"2021-09-17T08:32:41","slug":"literadura-nr-21-5","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/?p=15920","title":{"rendered":"Literadura nr. 21 (5)"},"content":{"rendered":"

KARIN BOYE<\/strong>
\n(1900-1941)<\/em>
\n\"\"

Karin Boye se na\u015fte \u00een 26 octombrie
\n1900 la G\u00f6teborg \u0219i moare \u00een 23 sau
\n24 aprilie 1941 la Alings\u00e5s. Margit
\nAbenius scrie despre Karin Boye o
\ncarte cu titlul \u201eDrabbad av renhet\u201d
\n(R\u0103nit\u0103 de puritate), titlu care spune
\nceva semnificativ despre Boye ca
\npoet\u0103 \u0219i om, dar ar putea la fel de bine
\ns\u0103 fie numit\u0103 \u201eR\u0103nit\u0103 de propria sa
\ncerin\u021b\u0103 de puritate\u201d. Aceast\u0103 cerin\u021b\u0103 a
\nurmat-o toat\u0103 via\u021ba.
\nDebuteaz\u0103 \u00een 1922 cu volumul de
\npoezie \u201eMoln\u201d (Nori), c\u0103ruia \u00eei
\nurmeaz\u0103 \u201eG\u00f6mda land\u201d (\u0162ara
\nascuns\u0103) \u00een 1924 \u015fi \u201eH\u00e4rdarna\u201d
\n(\u00cendr\u0103zne\u021bii), 1927. \u00cen \u201e\u021aara
\nascuns\u0103\u201d apa devine purt\u0103toarea de
\nsimbol. Marea ofer\u0103 lumin\u0103 de
\nvindecare \u0219i puritate; apa de izvor,
\nincolor\u0103 \u0219i limpede este nevoia de
\ndreptate, de justi\u021bie. Pic\u0103tura de ap\u0103
\ndintr-o frunz\u0103 de cre\u021bi\u0219oar\u0103 este
\nlegat\u0103, \u00eenrudit\u0103 cu apa de izvor, dar
\nvine de la integritate, onestitate.
\n\u201e\u00cendr\u0103zne\u021bii\u201d constituie punctul final
\nal poeziei de tinere\u021be a Karinei Boye.
\nAd\u00e2ncimea m\u0103rii, \u00een multe poezii,
\neste simbol nu numai pentru mi\u0219care,
\nefemer, ci \u0219i pentru odihna etern\u0103,
\npentru moarte. Cel mai cunoscut
\npoem, \u201eI r\u00f6relse\u201d (\u00cen mi\u0219care), cu
\nparadoxul c\u0103 dormi cel mai \u00een
\nsiguran\u021b\u0103 acolo unde dormi doar o
\nsingur\u0103 noapte, a devenit un fel de
\npoezie de lupt\u0103 pentru t\u00e2n\u0103ra
\ngenera\u021bie Clart\u00e9. \u00cen 1927 Karin Boye
\ndevine membr\u0103 a redac\u021biei revistei
\nsocialiste Clart\u00e9 \u0219i este unul din
\nfondatorii revistei Spektrum din a
\nc\u0103rei redac\u021bie face parte \u00eentre anii
\n1931-1932 \u00eempreun\u0103 cu Gunnar
\nEkel\u00f6f.
\nLa \u00eenceputul anilor 30, Karin Boye
\ntrece printr-o criz\u0103 de depresie din
\ncare \u00eencearc\u0103 s\u0103 iese cu ajutorul
\npsihanalizei dar \u0219i prin scrierea
\nromanului autobiografic \u201eKris\u201d (Criza).<\/em>
\n\u00centre anii 1932-1933 poeta se afl\u0103 la
\nBerlin unde urmeaz\u0103 un tratament
\npsihanalitic \u0219i vede de aproape cum
\nse r\u0103sp\u00e2nde\u0219te nazismul \u00een Germania.
\nSe desparte de so\u021bul s\u0103u, Leif Bj\u00f6rk,
\n\u0219i se \u00eentoarce \u00een Suedia, schimbat\u0103:
\nmai elegant\u0103, mai pu\u021bin interesat\u0103 de
\npartea activ\u0103, marxist\u0103 a mi\u0219c\u0103rii
\nClart\u00e9 dar mult mai fragil\u0103, mai
\nlabil\u0103 dec\u00e2t \u00eenainte.
\n\u00cen 1935 \u00eei apare volumul de poezie
\n\u201eF\u00f6r tr\u00e4dets skull\u201d (De dragul
\ncopacului) care-i marcheaz\u0103
\nmaturitatea liric\u0103.
\nRomanul \u201eKallokain\u201d \u00eei apare \u00een
\n1940 \u0219i este primit cu o critic\u0103
\nextrem de pozitiv\u0103. \u00centr-o scrisoare
\nBoye a explicat c\u0103 romanul este \u201eun
\nroman de viitor\u2026 Este vorba despre
\nsitua\u021bia din secolul urm\u0103tor, atunci
\nc\u00e2nd unele dintre statele totalitare
\navansate se lupt\u0103 pentru a domina
\nlumea, iar omul, individul, este
\ncomplet \u00een m\u00e2inile Statului.\u201d
\n\u00cen timp ce lucra la Kallokain, Karin
\nBoye a continuat s\u0103 scrie \u0219i poezie, \u00een
\nprincipal \u201eDe sju d\u00f6dssynderna\u201d (Cele
\n\u0219apte p\u0103cate de moarte), un fel de
\noratoriu, care nu a fost niciodat\u0103
\nfinalizat. Aceast\u0103 culegere de poezie
\ns-ar putea numi o cantat\u0103 despre
\ndragoste \u0219i moarte. Cantat\u0103 care pare s\u0103
\nfie n\u0103scut\u0103 dintr-o criz\u0103 la fel cu cea pe
\ncare o tr\u0103ie\u0219te poeta \u00een prim\u0103vara
\nanului 1941, anul \u00een care trupele
\ngermane au p\u0103truns \u00een Balcani. \u00cen 23
\naprilie armata greac\u0103 capituleaz\u0103 \u0219i
\ntrec\u0103toarea Termophyle, ap\u0103rat\u0103 de
\nc\u0103tre unit\u0103\u021bi engleze\u0219ti, cade \u2013 drumul
\nspre Atena este deschis.
\nPe 23 aprilie 1941 Karin Boye
\ndispare \u2013 locuia pe atunci la o
\nprieten\u0103 \u00een Alings\u00e5s \u2013 \u0219i este g\u0103sit\u0103
\nmoart\u0103, c\u00e2teva zile mai t\u00e2rziu, pe un
\nmic deal de la marginea ora\u0219ului.
\nPoeta s-a sinucis lu\u00e2nd o supradoz\u0103
\nde somnifere.<\/em><\/p>\n


\nNic\u0103ieri<\/strong><\/p>\n

Sunt bolnav\u0103 de-o otrav\u0103. Sunt bolnav\u0103 de-o sete
\npentru care natura n-a creat nicio b\u0103utur\u0103.<\/p>\n

Din toate p\u0103m\u00e2nturile \u021b\u00e2\u0219nesc p\u00e2raie \u0219i izvoare.
\nEu m\u0103 aplec \u0219i beau din vinele p\u0103m\u00e2ntului
\nsacramentul s\u0103u.<\/p>\n

\u0218i spa\u021biile se inund\u0103 de sfintele fluvii.
\nEu m\u0103 \u00eentind \u00een sus \u0219i-mi simt buzele umezite
\nde extaze albe.<\/p>\n

Dar nic\u0103ieri, nic\u0103ieri\u2026<\/p>\n

Sunt bolnav\u0103 de-o otrav\u0103. Sunt bolnav\u0103 de-o sete
\nPentru care natura nu a creat nicio b\u0103utur\u0103.<\/p>\n


\nIdee<\/strong><\/p>\n

Aici nu m\u0103 potrivesc. Aceasta nu sunt eu.
\nE doar o imagine mincinoas\u0103 oglindit\u0103,
\n\u00eentreb\u0103toare \u0219i curioas\u0103 unde pot fi eu,
\nt\u00e2njind s\u0103 se confrunte \u00eentr-o zi cu realitatea.<\/p>\n

Povestea spune: departe \u00eentr-o \u021bar\u0103 \u00eendep\u0103rtat\u0103
\ncurge dintr-un izvor nev\u0103zut un fluviu ca oglinda.
\nMii de fiin\u021be, sfinte \u0219i p\u0103c\u0103toase,
\nse \u00eenclin\u0103 ca ni\u0219te crini peste marginea malului.<\/p>\n

Lumina ne\u021b\u0103rmurit\u0103 le \u00eenconjoar\u0103 tr\u0103s\u0103turile,
\naerul tremur\u0103 saturat de o frumuse\u021be f\u0103r\u0103 asem\u0103nare.
\nEste regatul spiritelor perfecte.
\nAcolo st\u0103 adev\u0103ratul meu eu \u00een etern\u0103 claritate.<\/p>\n

Imaginea oglindit\u0103 nu se vede \u00een fluviul str\u0103lucitor.
\nA fost smuls\u0103 c\u00e2ndva de curentul furios,
\nr\u0103t\u0103ce\u0219te primprejur, ireal\u0103 ca-ntr-un vis,
\nneterminat\u0103, sf\u00e2\u0219iat\u0103 \u00een buc\u0103\u021bi, c\u0103ut\u00e2ndu-se pe sine.<\/p>\n

Nu aud eu \u00eendep\u0103rtata lovitur\u0103 a valurilor fluviului?
\nAd\u00e2nc, din ad\u00e2ncul meu cel mai profund, curg apele lui.
\nAcolo, fiecare val al vie\u021bii se fr\u00e2nge \u00een zile,
\nacolo m\u0103 a\u0219teapt\u0103, ascuns, bunul meu eu.<\/p>\n


\nNoaptea Walpurgiei<\/strong><\/p>\n

T\u00e2rziu, stau l\u00e2ng\u0103 muntele destinului.
\n\u00cen jur nori de furtun\u0103
\namestec\u0103 fiin\u021be f\u0103r\u0103 form\u0103, animale crepusculare,
\ncu aripi negre
\n\u0219i ochi fosforescen\u021bi.
\nStau? Merg? Drumul este \u00eentunecat.
\nStau lini\u0219tit\u0103 aici la poalele muntelui,
\n\u0219i nimic nu m\u0103 atinge.
\nLini\u0219tit\u0103 v\u0103d lupta lor ca un joc de cea\u021b\u0103 \u00een aer,
\neu \u00eens\u0103mi un ochi r\u0103t\u0103cit.
\nDar dac\u0103 plec, plec \u0219i nu mai \u0219tiu nimic.
\nPentru cei care fac ace\u0219ti pa\u0219i
\nvia\u021ba devine o poveste.
\nFoc eu \u00eens\u0103mi
\nc\u0103l\u0103resc pe \u0219erpi de foc \u00eencol\u0103ci\u021bi.
\nEu \u00eens\u0103mi v\u00e2nt
\nvoi zbura pe zmei \u00eenaripa\u021bi.
\nEu \u00eens\u0103mi nimic,
\neu \u00eens\u0103mi pierdut\u0103 \u00een furtun\u0103,
\nsunt aruncat\u0103 moart\u0103 sau vie \u00eenainte,
\no soart\u0103 grea \u00een viitor.<\/p>\n


\nCopacul de sub p\u0103m\u00e2nt<\/strong><\/p>\n

Un copac cre\u0219te sub p\u0103m\u00e2nt;
\nun miraj m\u0103 b\u00e2ntuie,
\nun c\u00e2ntec de sticl\u0103 vie, de argint arz\u0103tor.
\nCa \u00eentunericul la lumin\u0103
\ntoat\u0103 greutatea trebuie s\u0103 se topeasc\u0103,
\nunde doar o pic\u0103tur\u0103 de c\u00e2ntec cade din frunze.<\/p>\n

O angoas\u0103 m\u0103 urm\u0103re\u0219te.
\nSe scurge din p\u0103m\u00e2nt.
\nAcolo se chinuie un copac \u00eentre straturi grele de p\u0103m\u00e2nt.
\nOh, v\u00e2nt! Lumina soarelui!
\nSimte durerea:
\npromisiunea unui miros al paradisului minunat.<\/p>\n

Unde umbla\u021bi voi, picioare care c\u0103lca\u021bi
\nat\u00e2t de moale sau ap\u0103sat,
\n\u00eenc\u00e2t scoar\u021ba se crap\u0103 \u0219i \u00ee\u0219i pierde con\u021binutul?
\nDe dragul copacului, ave\u021bi mil\u0103!
\nDe dragul copacului, ave\u021bi mil\u0103!
\nDe dragul copacului, v\u0103 chem din cele patru v\u00e2nturi!
\nSau trebuie s\u0103 a\u0219tept\u0103m un zeu – \u0219i care?<\/p>\n

Traducere \u0219i prezentare:<\/em>
\nDorina Br\u00e2ndu\u0219a LADEN<\/strong><\/p>\n


\nIrma Pineda SANTIAGO<\/strong>
\n(Juchit\u00e1n, Oaxaca)
\n\"\"

Scriitoare, traduc\u0103toare, eseist\u0103.<\/em>
\nA publicat 8 c\u0103r\u021bi bilingve (mexican\u0103 \u0219i<\/em>
\nzapotec\u0103) \u0219i \u00een numeroase reviste \u0219i antologii<\/em>
\ninterna\u021bionale. O parte din scrierile sale au fost<\/em>
\ntraduse \u00een englez\u0103, german\u0103, rom\u00e2n\u0103, italian\u0103,<\/em>
\nportughez\u0103 \u0219i rus\u0103.<\/em><\/p>\n


\nDisp\u0103rut<\/strong><\/p>\n

Opre\u0219te-mi m\u00e2inile tat\u0103
\nc\u0103 ast\u0103zi vreau s\u0103 ucid aceast\u0103 memorie
\nOpre\u0219te-mi m\u00e2inile tat\u0103
\n\u00eenainte s\u0103-mi smulg inima<\/p>\n

Spal\u0103-mi trupul tat\u0103
\npoate se va scurge durerea
\nca s\u0103-mi po\u021bi \u00eentinde sufletul la v\u00e2nt
\ns\u0103 se usuce aceast\u0103 triste\u021be<\/p>\n

\u0218terge-mi ochii tat\u0103
\nc\u0103 au obosit de a nu te vedea
\n\u0219i s\u0103 fac\u0103 s\u0103-\u021bi plou\u0103 flori pentru
\nniciun morm\u00e2nt<\/p>\n


\nVine la mine<\/strong><\/p>\n

Vine la mine
\n\u00eencet
\nM\u0103 inund\u0103
\nm\u0103 umple toat\u0103 de sare \u0219i furie<\/p>\n

Degetele sale de ap\u0103 \u00eemi str\u0103bat goliciunea
\nlimpede<\/p>\n

Vreau s\u0103-i beau pielea lichid\u0103
\n\u00eencet, \u00een lini\u0219te<\/p>\n

Se dep\u0103rteaz\u0103
\ncu spuma-i ce-mi coboar\u0103 printre picioare<\/p>\n

Se \u00eentoarce la mine
\ncu mersul lent \u0219i sigur<\/p>\n

M\u00e2ng\u00e2ie iar
\n\u00eemi s\u0103rut\u0103 gleznele
\n\u00eenainteaz\u0103 spre coapsele mele
\nmacerate
\nlanguroase
\n\u00cemi umeze\u0219te p\u00e2ntecele<\/p>\n

Se \u00eentoarce
\nvine cu ur\u0103
\nm\u0103 arunc\u0103 \u00een nisip
\nExplodeaz\u0103
\n\u00cemi umeze\u0219te sexul<\/p>\n

M\u0103 inund\u0103
\nm\u0103 umple toat\u0103 de sare \u0219i furie<\/p>\n

Marea m\u0103 sf\u00e2r\u0219e\u0219te<\/p>\n


\nEu cunosc t\u0103cerea<\/strong><\/p>\n

Am fost acolo
\n\u00centre pere\u021bi ei transparen\u021bi
\nam v\u0103zut defilarea peisajelor
\nam mu\u0219cat prefixele ca s\u0103 le smulg capul
\n\u0219i cuvintele
\nGhilotina din\u021bilor mei
\na c\u0103zut exact pe articole \u0219i verbe
\nAm asasinat propozi\u021bii \u00eentregi
\nAm fost t\u0103cut\u0103 pe p\u0103m\u00e2nt str\u0103in
\npentru a m\u0103 salva
\nde r\u00e2sete sau de insomnie
\nde ochiul comp\u0103timitor
\nsau de team\u0103
\nAm construit cei mai \u00eenal\u021bi pere\u021bi pentru t\u0103cere
\nca s\u0103 nu-mi descop\u0103r originea
\nLimba bunicilor mei
\nGeometria ascuns\u0103
\n\u00een ve\u0219mintele mamei
\nO copil\u0103rie care a aruncat petale
\n\u00een \u00eenchisori
\ncare a cunoscut \u00eenchisorile clandestine
\n\u00eenainte de a \u00eenv\u0103\u021ba s\u0103-\u0219i scrie numele
\nEu cunosc t\u0103cerea
\nAm fost acolo…<\/p>\n

Traducere<\/em> Elisabeta BO\u021aAN<\/strong><\/p>\n


\nEduard R\u0102DUN\u0102<\/strong>
\n\"\"

S-a n\u0103scut la 31.03.1972, Ploie\u0219ti;<\/em>
\nStudii: \u0218coala 29 Vest (azi Emil Palade) Liceul<\/em>
\nMihai Viteazul; Seminarul Teologic Bucure\u0219ti:<\/em>
\nFacultatea de Teologie Ortodox\u0103 Bucure\u0219ti; \u0218coala<\/em>
\nPostuniversitar\u0103 de Restaurare Ion Mincu,<\/em>
\nBucure\u0219ti.<\/em>
\nVolume publicate:<\/em>
\nBalaurul \u00een vie – 2010, un volum de eseuri<\/em>
\nPe \u021b\u0103rmul din clepsidr\u0103, 2020, versuri.<\/em><\/p>\n


\nSurghiun l\u0103untric<\/strong><\/p>\n

Eram, de fapt, disperat, dar nu a\u021bi \u00een\u021beles!
\nM\u0103 str\u00e2ngea timpul deodat\u0103 \u00eemprejur,
\nNici t\u0103cerea mea n-a avut succes,
\nA\u021bi fi preferat s\u0103 \u021bip sau s\u0103 \u00eenjur.
\nEu am ales s\u0103 fug \u00een interior
\nPe \u021b\u0103rmul acestei ultime m\u0103ri,
\nS\u0103 m\u0103 \u00eempleticesc bolnav, vis\u0103tor
\nF\u0103r\u0103 s\u0103 v\u0103 dest\u0103inuiesc c\u0103 uneori
\nIubesc – nu moartea, desigur –
\nCi limanul \u00een nuan\u021be de bleu;
\nC\u0103 \u00eemi e mai u\u0219or s\u0103 fiu singur
\n\u0218i c\u0103 mi-ar fi amarnic de greu
\nS\u0103 v\u0103 conving c\u0103 tocmai din iubire
\nP\u0103\u0219esc ne\u00eenso\u021bit, c\u0103tre ie\u0219ire\u2026<\/p>\n


\nDe\u0219ert\u0103ciune<\/strong><\/p>\n

S\u0103 tr\u0103im f\u0103r\u0103 g\u00e2ndul la viitor!
\nDe ce visuri, de ce ad\u0103post,
\nDe ce case, dac\u0103 ele mor?!
\n\u0218i \u00een\u0219i\u0219i oamenii \u2013 compost
\nC\u0103rora le vei pierde urma lor,
\n\u00cei vei distruge, Atotputernice,
\nPrintr-un foc, ai zis, pus de un sobor
\nDe \u00eenaripate cucernice\u2026
\n\u00cen definitiv, ne ceri s\u0103 fim lucizi
\n(moartea e, mai ales, realist\u0103)
\nNu se poate ve\u0219nicie din c\u0103r\u0103mizi,
\nnici c\u0103r\u0103mizile nu exist\u0103.
\nSingur, Tu! Singur \u0219i at\u00e2t
\n\u0218i sfatul s\u0103 nu ne purt\u0103m ur\u00e2t.<\/p>\n


\nEpopee<\/strong><\/p>\n

F\u0103-m\u0103 s\u0103 uit, f\u0103-m\u0103 s\u0103 m\u0103 pierd,
\nSpune-mi o poveste formidabil\u0103!
\nPoveste\u0219te-mi ceva alert
\nPentru starea mea detestabil\u0103!
\n\u0218tii, fug de propriile g\u00e2nduri, sunt
\nDoar butaforii croite ur\u00e2t,
\nC\u00e2t s\u0103 acopere maidanul crunt
\nUnde tinere\u021bile mi-am petrecut.
\nO poveste, asta \u00ee\u021bi cer,
\nBun\u0103 \u0219i spus\u0103 cum se cade
\nS\u0103 m\u0103 opreasc\u0103, precum Homer
\nHaosul primei Elade.
\nO poveste nu foarte fix\u0103,
\nDar cu \u00eenv\u0103\u021b\u0103turi integre \u2013
\nVezi doar s\u0103 nu devin\u0103 prolix\u0103
\n\u0218i s\u0103 m\u0103-ntorc la g\u00e2nduri negre!
\n\u0218i mai ales, nici un pic
\n\u00cen ea s\u0103 nu m\u0103 zugr\u0103ve\u0219ti,
\nToat\u0103 via\u021ba am fost un nimic
\nAr fi culmea s\u0103 apar \u00een pove\u0219ti.<\/p>\n


\nIanuarie<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00cen Ianuarie cre\u0219te imperceptibil ziua
\n\u0218i speran\u021ba mai cre\u0219te c\u00e2t de c\u00e2t
\nDespre ce anume speran\u021ba nu \u0219tiu \u2013 a
\nFost o diminea\u021b\u0103 mai bun\u0103 \u0219i at\u00e2t.
\n[Dar este tot iarn\u0103, tot molim\u0103 pe strad\u0103
\nCe irita\u021bi sunt cump\u0103r\u0103torii de p\u00e2ine,
\nDar ce frivol s\u0103 suspini dup\u0103 z\u0103pad\u0103
\nSperan\u021ba de azi nu e despre m\u00e2ine]
\nSecerele se ascut, se scot ciocanele,
\nSe poart\u0103 m\u0103\u0219ti \u0219i ochelari de cal.
\nNici abatoarele \u0219i nici saivanele
\nNu mai sunt pentru regnul animal,
\nDoar speran\u021ba l\u00e2ng\u0103 cafea e concret\u0103.
\nBucur\u0103-te de visul de azi-noapte,
\nCea\u021b\u0103 preschimb\u0103 ziua \u00een cret\u0103
\n\u0218i creta \u00eentr-un fel de lapte.
\nPlou\u0103 \u00een ianuarie, de ce nu ninge ?
\nMaidanul \u00eentinde griuri de cu\u021bit,
\nPr\u00e2nzul \u00een diminea\u021b\u0103 se \u00eempinge
\nPrin v\u0103zduhul incert \u0219i coclit<\/p>\n


\nCorneliu VASILE<\/strong>
\n\"\"

S-a n\u0103scut la 28.07.1947, Dobrosloveni, Olt.<\/em>
\nProfesor, doctor \u00een filologie.<\/em>
\nMembru al Uniunii Scriitorilor din Rom\u00e2nia.<\/em>
\nC\u0103r\u021bi de poezie: Aproapele departe (1997),<\/em>
\nEfemere (2006), De acas\u0103 p\u00e2n\u0103-n clas\u0103 (versuri<\/em>
\n\u0219i proz\u0103 pentru copii, 2006), Dac\u0103 iube\u0219ti<\/em>
\np\u0103durile (2014), Treci pe c\u0103r\u0103ri (2020).<\/em>
\nProz\u0103: Primul tren spre Craiova (roman,<\/em>
\n1999), O lume minunat\u0103 (proz\u0103 scurt\u0103, 1999).<\/em>
\nCritic\u0103 \u0219i istorie literar\u0103, cronici: Privire din<\/em>
\ninterior (2000), Scriitorul vremii, vremea<\/em>
\nscriitorului (2010), Halouri (2012), \u00cen umbra<\/em>
\nliterei (2015), Reflect\u0103ri, reflec\u021bii, refrac\u021bii<\/em>
\n(2016), Acredit\u0103ri livre\u0219ti (2017), Semne \u0219i<\/em>
\n\u00eensemne de carte (2019).<\/em>
\nC\u0103r\u021bi de umor: Epigrame \u0219i alte versuri<\/em>
\numoristice (1996), Catrene ca trenuri (2013),<\/em>
\nRime pentru-contra (2020).<\/em>
\nA mai publicat c\u0103r\u021bi \u00een domeniul educa\u021bional.<\/em>
\nColabor\u0103ri (selectiv) : Rom\u00e2nia literar\u0103,<\/em>
\nFamilia, Ramuri, Tribuna, Metafora, Porto-<\/em>
\nFranco, Oglinda literar\u0103, 13 Plus, Hyperion,<\/em>
\nMozaicul, Nord literar, Poesis, Arge\u0219,<\/em>
\nActualitatea literar\u0103, Litere, Luceaf\u0103rul de<\/em>
\ndiminea\u021b\u0103, Bucure\u0219tiul literar \u0219i artistic, Sud,<\/em>
\nPro Saeculum, Caligraf, Vatra veche, Via\u021ba<\/em>
\nrom\u00e2neasc\u0103, Caiete de Sud-Est (Fran\u021ba),<\/em>
\nObservatorul \u0219i Destine literare (Canada),<\/em>
\nUniversul rom\u00e2nesc (Belgia), New York<\/em>
\nmagazin (SUA).<\/em><\/p>\n


\nClip\u0103<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00cenot s-a strecurat din v\u00e2lv\u0103taie,
\nPe bra\u021be vine\u021bii de mare-ncins\u0103
\n\u0218i-ncrez\u0103tor \u00een steaua lui aprins\u0103
\nPieri departe, \u00eenspre st\u00e2nci b\u0103laie.<\/p>\n

C\u00e2nd s-a \u00eentors, \u00een m\u00e2ini cu c\u0103ngi \u0219i v\u00e2sl\u0103,
\nSe s\u0103turase marea de epave,
\nIar valurile se-n\u0219irau, concave,
\nDormind \u00eentr-o t\u0103cere grea, de p\u00e2sl\u0103.<\/p>\n


\n\u021a\u0103rmul aprins<\/strong><\/p>\n

Veni\u021bi negre\u0219it spre \u021b\u0103rmul aprins,
\nAcolo miracole-a\u0219teapt\u0103,
\nG\u00e2ndul crezut singuratic,
\nDar mult prea aproape de fapt\u0103<\/p>\n

E lumea t\u0103cerii z\u00e2mbind \u00eentre noi,
\nAcvatice plante sub\u021biri,
\nPe\u0219ti, caracati\u021be, stridii,
\n\u00cen palid sidef am\u0103giri<\/p>\n

E \u021b\u0103rmul pe care danseaz\u0103 bacante
\n\u0218i nimfe albastre, ispititoare,
\nFauni frumo\u0219i \u00eentre alge,
\nLichid\u0103-n ad\u00e2nc leg\u0103nare<\/p>\n

Dar nu v\u0103 \u00eentoarce\u021bi, pierdut este drumul,
\n\u021aes l\u00e2ng\u0103 \u021b\u0103rm ale apelor parce,
\nDoar \u00eentr-un sens e \u021besut\u0103 c\u0103rarea,
\nCine-a ajuns nu se \u00eentoarce\u2026<\/p>\n


\nLiteratur\u0103<\/strong><\/p>\n

Copacii cu \u00eenalt\u0103-alur\u0103
\n\u00cencremenind frumo\u0219i, de os
\n\u00cei vom numi literatur\u0103
\n\u0218i vom semna, umili, mai jos.<\/p>\n

Copacii \u00eennegrind curbur\u0103
\nDe zmei \u0219i mume-ale p\u0103durii
\nSunt doar \u0219i ei literatur\u0103,
\nUr\u00e2\u021bii, r\u0103ii, str\u00e2mbii, surii.<\/p>\n

\u0218i r\u00e2ul ar putea fi, dar
\nN-are nici fructe-aromitoare,
\nNici nu-l po\u021bi prinde \u00een tipar;
\nJos, ne semn\u0103m cu resemnare.<\/p>\n


\nNicolae Nistor<\/strong>
\n\"\"


\nSATUL P\u0102R\u0102SIT<\/strong><\/p>\n

M-am re\u00eentors acolo din \u00eent\u00e2mplare,
\ngardul c\u0103zut pe o ulcic\u0103 ce moare,
\nspart\u0103 \u0219i pl\u00e2ns\u0103, goal\u0103 de ve\u0219ti\u2026
\nCe risipite pove\u0219ti!
\nTotul era rugin\u0103 \u0219i scorburi,
\napoi nimeni nu exist\u0103 nici hornuri,
\nnimeni nu strig\u0103 de la f\u00e2nt\u00e2n\u0103,
\nnici via\u021b\u0103 nu este, nici tihn\u0103\u2026
\nV\u0103d locul unde m\u0103 ascundeam
\ns\u0103 v\u0103d iubiri neatinse
\n\u0219i nurii de fete aprinse,
\nnimeni nu pl\u00e2nge \u00een poart\u0103,
\ndoar zgomot de clopot
\ndin biserica \u00eenclinat\u0103.
\nNici iarba nu mai are parfum
\nde cai zbur\u0103tori preg\u0103ti\u021bi pentru drum,
\nnu mai simt \u00een aer miros de salc\u00e2m.
\nCine s\u0103 moar\u0103, cine s\u0103 nasc\u0103,
\nalai de nunt\u0103 \u00een glastr\u0103.
\nCe verde era Universul acela
\nc\u00e2nd erau copii
\ncu semne de cire\u0219e furate,
\nc\u00e2nd iezii Domnului alergau
\n\u00een satul plin de miresme,
\nmirosul de p\u00e2ine din cruce
\ns\u0103 poat\u0103 via\u021ba u\u0219or a o duce.
\nLapte de mam\u0103, lapte de via\u021b\u0103,
\ns\u0103 creasc\u0103 copilul ferit de boli\u2026
\nCopilul s\u0103 aib\u0103 noroc
\npus pe \u0219tergarul de flori,
\ns\u0103 scape de ap\u0103 \u0219i foc,
\ns\u0103-i fie poarta deschis\u0103,
\ns\u0103 intre norocul \u0219uvoi
\npentru el, pentru to\u021bi\u2026
\nTrec\u0103torului ce bate la por\u021bi,
\nce soarbe din ulcica cu boabe de rou\u0103
\nce aduce gazdei noroc.
\nUrarea s\u0103 aib\u0103 bel\u0219ug c\u00e2t o vrea\u2026
\nUnde e\u0219ti, satule de c\u0103l\u0103tori,
\ncu lac\u0103te p\u0103r\u0103site la por\u021bi,
\nlocul unde vin mor\u021bii s\u0103 ude flori!<\/p>\n


\nPAHARUL PIERZANIEI<\/strong><\/p>\n

am poft\u0103 de un pahar cu vin
\n\u00eenainte de insomniile din noapte
\nun egoism permis de soart\u0103
\ndau noroc prin pere\u021bii de carton
\ncu b\u0103utorii din bloc
\nprea transparent\u0103 intimitatea
\nparc\u0103 ar fi o central\u0103 telefonic\u0103
\nb\u00e2rfitoare cu fla\u0219netari plutonieri
\na\u0219a era \u00een Trabantul sinuciga\u0219
\nc\u00e2nd ne plimbam am\u00e2ndoi
\ncu cine s\u0103 dai noroc fa\u021b\u0103 \u00een fa\u021b\u0103
\nunul este \u00eencornorat de foame
\naltul este egoist din fire
\n\u021bine u\u0219ile b\u0103tute \u00een cuie
\nse crede un zbur\u0103tor ratat
\napoi numerele sunt \u00eentoarse
\n\u0219i via\u021ba la televizor sau la coad\u0103
\neste remediul pierzaniei la mod\u0103<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

KARIN BOYE (1900-1941) Karin Boye se na\u015fte \u00een 26 octombrie 1900 la G\u00f6teborg \u0219i moare \u00een 23 sau 24 aprilie<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":17,"featured_media":15845,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"colormag_page_container_layout":"default_layout","colormag_page_sidebar_layout":"default_layout","_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"video_url":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7,329],"tags":[],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15920"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/17"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=15920"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15920\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":15928,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15920\/revisions\/15928"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/15845"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=15920"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=15920"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=15920"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}