{"id":22013,"date":"2023-10-19T08:49:28","date_gmt":"2023-10-19T05:49:28","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/?p=22013"},"modified":"2023-10-19T08:49:28","modified_gmt":"2023-10-19T05:49:28","slug":"spatii-culturale-nr-90-10","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/?p=22013","title":{"rendered":"Spa\u021bii culturale nr. 90 (10)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Gina ZAHARIA<\/strong>
\n\"\"

***
\nHai s-adun\u0103m, de prin toamn\u0103, pove\u0219ti,
\nne vor a\u0219tepta peste dealuri, departe,
\nc\u00e2teva g\u00e2nduri, cinci frunze uscate
\n\u0219i-un car de lumin\u0103,
\ntoate acesta vor fi pentru noi,
\nlumea divin\u0103.<\/p>\n

A r\u0103mas, undeva, o carte deschis\u0103,
\nia-o cu tine, mai avem ni\u0219te semne
\ndin a\u0219chii de brad,
\n\u0219i, Doamne,-i aprins\u0103
\nf\u0103clia din lemne!
\n\u0218i ard peste ape,
\n\u0219i r\u00e2d uneori,
\nc\u00e2nd pa\u0219ii uit\u0103rii se pierd
\npeste z\u0103ri.<\/p>\n

S\u0103lbatice jocuri, str\u0103in\u0103 chemare
\nplutesc peste pe bolta cu ploi de argint!
\nC\u00e2nd lan\u021buri de veghe vor \u0219ti s\u0103 se-ncheie
\nla haina de m\u00e2ine,
\nun semn de-ntrebare
\nva sta l\u00e2ng\u0103 soare
\npe-un zid de granit.
\nAuzi cum ne strig\u0103 t\u0103cerea?
\nDe tobo\u0219arii voio\u0219i ce mai \u0219tii?
\nSe str\u00e2ng l\u00e2ng\u0103 mine cocorii
\n\u0219i v\u00e2ntul danseaz\u0103
\nprin vii. <\/p>\n

Vino s\u0103-nchidem ogoare la piept; ne vor cunoa\u0219te
\nmai bine,
\ncuvintele noastre de ieri,
\ncu miere din \u0219oapte aldine
\nvor umple cet\u0103\u021bi
\nf\u0103r\u0103 por\u021bi,
\n\u00eentre mine \u0219i tine.<\/p>\n


\nCamelia Manuela SAVA<\/strong>
\n\"\"

Al doilea v\u0103l<\/strong><\/p>\n

Capitolul 9 \u2013 Amintiri <\/strong><\/p>\n

Toamna a sosit cu ve\u0219ti \u2013 Ionu\u021b reu\u0219ise la admitere, era student. Aflase de la cel mai bun prieten al lui, care era vecin de cartier. Acesta o abordase inten\u021bionat pe strad\u0103 s\u0103 \u00eei spun\u0103 de succesul lui Ionu\u021b la examen. Un an a stat \u00een liceu ca \u00eentr-un turn de filde\u0219, nu avea de f\u0103cut dec\u00e2t s\u0103 \u00eenve\u021be. Lipsa lui Ionu\u021b se sim\u021bea ca o frunz\u0103 c\u0103zut\u0103 pe o alee izolat\u0103, departe de to\u021bi \u0219i de toate. Inima ei era trist\u0103. A urmat \u0219i pentru Dora ultimul an de liceu. Ea se orientase spre Facultatea de Litere, c\u0103r\u021bile erau confiden\u021bii ei, erau prietenii care te \u00een\u021belegeau, care nu te tr\u0103dau niciodat\u0103. A stat si a \u00eenv\u0103\u021bat zile \u0219i nop\u021bi la r\u00e2nd. A venit bacalaureatul cu emo\u021bii, apoi proba de foc de la facultate. A intrat printre ultimii, dar concuren\u021ba fusese acerb\u0103! Dora a reu\u0219it s\u0103 devin\u0103 student\u0103 \u2013 capitala i se p\u0103rea un univers infinit, cu provoc\u0103rile sale, cu misterele sale.
\nVia\u021ba ei s-a schimbat drastic \u2013 din fata timid\u0103 a devenit mai st\u0103p\u00e2n\u0103 pe sine, mai \u00eencrez\u0103toare. Se obi\u0219nuise repede cu bibliotecile, cu orarul la Universitate, prima sesiune a trecut cu sui\u0219uri \u0219i cobor\u00e2\u0219uri, nu se uit\u0103 niciodat\u0103, ca prima iubire. Numai c\u0103 prima ei iubire asumat\u0103, tr\u0103it\u0103 intens era volatilizat\u0103. Nu mai \u0219tia nimic de Ionu\u021b, respira acela\u0219i aer cu el, fiind \u0219i el student, dar nu se \u00eent\u00e2lniser\u0103. Nici nu aveau cum, tr\u0103iau \u00een lumi diferite. Abia \u00een anul doi, \u00eentr-o zi friguroas\u0103 de toamn\u0103, cred c\u0103 era tot noiembrie, Dora fu strigat\u0103. Era la coad\u0103 la bilete la un cinematograf central, c\u00e2nd auzi vocea familiar\u0103 a lui Ionu\u021b:
\n-Dora! Ce faci?
\n-Bine! Ca toat\u0103 lumea, stau la r\u00e2nd pentru bilete… tu?
\n-Tu nu e\u0219ti ca toat\u0103 lumea! E\u0219ti frumoas\u0103! E\u0219ti mai frumoas\u0103 dec\u00e2t \u00eemi aminteam eu… Mergi cu mine la film sau cu prietenele tale?
\n-Sau… se \u00eencrunt\u0103 Dora, \u00een loc s\u0103 mul\u021bumeasc\u0103 pentru compliment. Era un joc numai de ei \u0219tiu. Sau \u00eensemna, de fapt, \u201enu\u201d!
\n-\u00cen\u021beleg. Nu o s\u0103 te deranjez. Dar voi veni la tine la c\u0103min s\u0103 te invit oficial. Unde locuie\u0219ti? \u00cen Regie sau \u00een Groz\u0103ve\u0219ti?
\n-Regie, \u0219opti ea f\u0103r\u0103 s\u0103 \u00ee\u0219i dea seama.
\n-Aha, ok, te g\u0103sesc eu, nu \u00ee\u021bi face probleme. M\u0103 descurc. O sear\u0103 frumoas\u0103 \u00ee\u021bi doresc! apoi f\u0103cu \u0219treng\u0103re\u0219te cu ochiul ca un star de la Hollywood. Vizionare pl\u0103cut\u0103!
\n-Cine este, drag\u0103, Adonis \u0103sta? \u00eentreb\u0103 curioas\u0103 Claudia, colega de camer\u0103.
\n-E fostul… \u00eeng\u00e2n\u0103 Dora.
\n-O! Ce pies\u0103! \u0218opti admirativ Claudia! \u0218i…? At\u00e2t?
\n-E o poveste prea complicat\u0103…zise Dora plictisit\u0103.
\n-\u0218i cu o desp\u0103r\u021bire cu lacrimi de crocodil? complet\u0103 interogativ cealalt\u0103 coleg\u0103, Irina.
\n-Cam…
\nDe\u0219i Dora nu mai avea chef de film, nu avea \u00eencotro. Intr\u0103 \u00een sala \u00eentunecoas\u0103, numai c\u0103 filmul iubirii ei se derul\u0103 pe retina sufletului ei. Ie\u0219i de la cinema r\u0103v\u0103\u0219it\u0103. \u00cei sim\u021bise privirea lui Ionu\u021b, parc\u0103 era aproape de ea \u0219i \u00eei respira \u00een ceaf\u0103. Ionu\u021b era cu grupul lui de prieteni. Era \u0219i el tulburat de \u00eent\u00e2lnirea nea\u0219teptat\u0103, dar bravase. Nici nu mai \u0219tia dac\u0103 o iubise sau…
\nDup\u0103 dou\u0103 s\u0103pt\u0103m\u00e2ni, situa\u021bia a luat o alt\u0103 \u00eentors\u0103tur\u0103. Fetele erau \u00een camer\u0103 la c\u0103min \u0219i se auzi un cioc\u0103nit insistent. Figura masiv\u0103, p\u0103rul s\u00e2rmos, str\u0103lucitor luminau \u00eenc\u0103perea. Un val de aer rece p\u0103trunse \u00een\u0103untru \u0219i Dora fu electrocutat\u0103:
\n-Ai v\u0103zut c\u0103 nu e greu s\u0103 te g\u0103sesc? \u00eencepu Ionu\u021b s\u0103 fac\u0103 pe impresionantul.
\n-Ce cau\u021bi aici?
\n-Am venit dup\u0103 tine. \u021ai-am promis doar. Am dou\u0103 bilete la teatru \u0219i dac\u0103 m\u0103 refuzi, le rup imediat \u00een fa\u021ba ta…
\n-Hai, Dora! Du-te la teatru, insistar\u0103 \u0219i colegele de camer\u0103! O s\u0103-\u021bi plac\u0103!
\n-E de fapt My fair lady, o pies\u0103 de operet\u0103. E un spectacol unic. Doar nu m\u0103 refuzi…
\nDora ced\u0103 insisten\u021belor. E adev\u0103rat c\u0103 \u00eei pl\u0103cea s\u0103 mearg\u0103 la teatru, la oper\u0103. Erau momentele magice pentru ea c\u00e2nd se transpunea \u00een alt\u0103 lume.
\n\u00cel l\u0103s\u0103 pe Ionu\u021b pe m\u00e2inile fetelor \u0219i se preg\u0103ti. F\u0103cu rapid un du\u0219, \u00ee\u0219i alesese o rochie din dulap \u0219i se fard\u0103 discret. \u00cen acest timp, Irina \u0219i Claudia \u00eel luar\u0103 \u00een primire pe musafir, cu \u00eentreb\u0103ri, \u00eel servir\u0103 cu pr\u0103jituri \u0219i ciripiser\u0103 curioase despre orice. Dora era gata. T\u00e2n\u0103rul impresionat \u00eei d\u0103du bra\u021bul \u0219i ie\u0219iser\u0103 pe u\u0219\u0103:
\n-Fetelor, v-o aduc \u00eenapoi pe la miezul nop\u021bii. A\u0219 mai fi stat s\u0103 m\u0103n\u00e2nc pr\u0103jituri, dar e teatrul \u00eenainte de toate!
\nPe drum, Ionu\u021b o lu\u0103 de m\u00e2n\u0103 pe Dora ca \u0219i cum timpul nu ar fi trecut, se \u00eentorceau la acel moment din noiembrie c\u00e2nd ea plecase furioas\u0103, pl\u00e2ng\u00e2nd… Acum \u00eel urma supus\u0103. Piesa de la operet\u0103 fusese un vis, erau acolo actori minuna\u021bi, decoruri extraordinare \u0219i z\u00e2mbetul cuceritor al b\u0103iatului de care Dora fusese sincer \u00eendr\u0103gostit\u0103. Recunoscuse u\u0219or mitul lui Pygmalion. Ionu\u021b o sorbea din priviri \u0219i o m\u00e2ng\u00e2ia u\u0219or pe m\u00e2n\u0103. \u00cencerca s\u0103 g\u0103seasc\u0103 un nod de unde s\u0103 se re\u00eenfiripe dragostea…
\nDora era \u00eens\u0103 distant\u0103, a \u00eencercat s\u0103 \u00ee\u0219i retrag\u0103 m\u00e2na de vreo dou\u0103 ori, dar b\u0103iatul a str\u00e2ns-o \u0219i mai tare… g\u00e2nduri, imagini, suferin\u021be \u00eei n\u0103p\u0103deau pe am\u00e2ndoi. Dac\u0103 \u0219i el fusese trist ca \u0219i ea? Probabil c\u0103 se alinase cu via\u021ba de student… acum se punea \u00eentrebarea dac\u0103 merit\u0103 s\u0103 o ia de la cap\u0103t… dac\u0103 va fi bine… sau… ce rost ar fi avut s\u0103 sufere din nou?
\n Seara era pl\u0103cut\u0103, de\u0219i friguroas\u0103. Emo\u021biile curgeau valuri-valuri \u0219i \u00een s\u00e2ngele lor t\u00e2n\u0103r se d\u0103dea o lupt\u0103 \u2013 dac\u0103 s\u0103 se reaprind\u0103 focul iubirii sau…
\nIonu\u021b o duse apoi la PanyPAT, unde erau pl\u0103cinte calde \u0219i pizza. Glumeau pe seama scenelor din piesa vizionat\u0103. Se apropiau iar \u0219i ghea\u021ba era spart\u0103…
\nLa desp\u0103r\u021bire, \u00een fa\u021ba u\u0219ii din c\u0103minul studen\u021besc, Ionu\u021b se aplec\u0103 \u0219i o s\u0103rut\u0103 pe frunte p\u0103rinte\u0219te.
\n-E\u0219ti frumoas\u0103 ca o prin\u021bes\u0103, \u0219tii nu? \u00ce\u021bi mul\u021bumesc mult pentru seara asta magic\u0103.
\n-Eu \u00ee\u021bi mul\u021bumesc. A fost o invita\u021bie nea\u0219teptat\u0103. Tu e\u0219ti un magician, nu?
\n-Nu, sunt un om cu bune \u0219i rele. \u0218i tu \u0219tii asta. O \u00eembr\u0103\u021bi\u0219\u0103 \u0219i apoi se desprinse de l\u00e2ng\u0103 ea plutind. Vor mai fi \u0219i alte invita\u021bii, te asigur.
\nDora era cuprins\u0103 de fl\u0103c\u0103ri. Nu credea c\u0103 dragostea poate fi \u0219i a\u0219a.
\n-Cum a fost? Au s\u0103rit cele dou\u0103 vr\u0103biu\u021be gure\u0219e?
\n-Deh, pot s\u0103 v\u0103 spun c\u0103 spectacolul merit\u0103! Merge\u021bi s\u0103-l vede\u021bi!
\n-Noi \u00eentrebam de Adonis al t\u0103u!
\n-Ei, ciorb\u0103 re\u00eenc\u0103lzit\u0103…. E un F\u0103t Frumos care se lupt\u0103 \u0219i se lupt\u0103 cu zmei, zmeoaice, himere, ca la final s\u0103 asculte de mama lui… nu m\u0103 mai \u00eentreba\u021bi, c\u0103 nu v\u0103d rostul s\u0103 v\u0103 r\u0103spund.
\n Fetele se duser\u0103 la culcare bosumflate c\u0103 nu fusese nimic palpitant \u00een toat\u0103 povestea Dorei. Ea \u00eens\u0103 nu putu s\u0103 pun\u0103 gean\u0103 peste gean\u0103…
\nDiminea\u021ba se trezi cu el la u\u0219\u0103… era s\u00e2mb\u0103t\u0103 \u0219i fetele leneveau \u00een pijamale. Ionu\u021b era \u00een echipament sportiv, cu o geac\u0103 modern\u0103, \u0219i intr\u0103 triumfal dup\u0103 ce Dora \u00eei deschise u\u0219a. Avea un tricou pe dedesubt \u2013 acela\u0219i: ro\u0219u, cu m\u00e2neci albastre, cu num\u0103rul 10 pe spate. Era acela\u0219i? Cum se poate?
\n-Bun\u0103 diminea\u021ba, Prin\u021beselor! Am venit s\u0103 facem cl\u0103tite.
\n-Bine, cum de e\u0219ti a\u0219a matinal? \u0218i de unde ai tricoul acesta? \u00cel lu\u0103 \u00een r\u0103sp\u0103r Dora.
\nIonu\u021b z\u00e2mbi misterios:
\n-Deci primesc 10 la impresia artistic\u0103?!? Nu. Nu e acela\u0219i, c\u0103 am mai crescut \u00eentre timp, dar am f\u0103cut s\u0103 semene cu cel de acum trei ani. \u0218tiu c\u0103 era o fat\u0103 topit\u0103 dup\u0103 el. A\u0219a c\u0103 am g\u0103sit, fata, avem tricoul, deci ne apuc\u0103m \u0219i noi de treab\u0103? Se sp\u0103l\u0103 pe m\u00e2ini \u0219i comand\u0103 serios: f\u0103in\u0103, zah\u0103r, ulei, ou\u0103! \u0218i se apuc\u0103 gospod\u0103re\u0219te de buc\u0103t\u0103rit. F\u0103cuse compozi\u021bia mix\u00e2nd ingredientele. Aprinse ochiul de aragaz. C\u0103ut\u0103 o tigaie \u00een dul\u0103piorul de deasupra mesei. Era simplu s\u0103 le g\u0103seasc\u0103 fiindc\u0103 via\u021ba \u00een comun \u00eentr-o camer\u0103 de c\u0103min studen\u021besc nu implic\u0103 prea mult spa\u021biu \u0219i nici prea multe obiecte.
\n-Poate primesc o not\u0103 mare \u0219i la execu\u021bia tehnic\u0103. Mai vreau gem sau ciocolat\u0103.
\n-Avem doar gem, spuse Dora.
\n-E bun. Hai, recunoa\u0219te, draga mea, c\u0103 sunt un bun buc\u0103tar!
\n-B\u0103rba\u021bii, \u00een general, sunt buni buc\u0103tari, morm\u0103i Dora.
\n Fetele savurar\u0103 cl\u0103titele \u0219i se \u00eentreceau \u00een laude, iar Ionu\u021b se umfla \u00een pene. Se aplec\u0103 spre Dora s\u0103 \u0219tearg\u0103 o urm\u0103 imaginar\u0103 de gem \u0219i o s\u0103rut\u0103 din fug\u0103. Trebuie s\u0103 m\u0103 dau b\u0103tut \u2013 buzele tale sunt mai dulci dec\u00e2t cl\u0103titele mele. Celelalte fete chicotir\u0103, iar Dora ro\u0219i puternic. Erau acum un cuplu de \u00eendr\u0103gosti\u021bi care se tachinau, se tatonau. Ziua \u0219i-au petrecut-o apoi \u00een Parcul Her\u0103str\u0103u, unde admirau lacul \u0219i \u00eemprejurimile, t\u0103cu\u021bi \u0219i \u00eembr\u0103\u021bi\u0219a\u021bi.<\/p>\n

Alt\u0103 dat\u0103, \u00een preajma s\u0103rb\u0103torilor de iarn\u0103, Ionu\u021b veni \u0219i o invit\u0103 la o petrecere. El era elegant, \u00een sacou negru \u0219i c\u0103ma\u0219\u0103 neagr\u0103, f\u0103r\u0103 cravat\u0103, f\u0103r\u0103 alte accesorii inutile. Dora acceptase s\u0103 mearg\u0103 cu el, erau o pereche frumoas\u0103, erau tineri, erau potrivi\u021bi. Rochia Dorei avea ape albastre \u0219i cordonul negru \u00eei sublinia talia sub\u021bire. Combinase o pereche de cizme negre \u00eenalte cu un coc \u00eenalt \u0219i Ionu\u021b venise cu un cadou \u2013 o pereche de cercei alba\u0219tri.
\n-A… De unde ai \u0219tiut c\u0103 albastru e culoarea mea preferat\u0103?
\n-P\u0103i, blugi, c\u0103m\u0103\u0219i albastre, teni\u0219i alba\u0219tri… nu am uitat cum te \u00eembr\u0103cai \u00een liceu… \u0103sta e cusurul meu… am o memorie de elefant… Ce \u0219anse ai fi avut s\u0103 te schimbi?
\nPetrecerea era la un restaurant \u00een centru. Ionu\u021b venise cu ma\u0219ina firmei la care lucra de ceva timp. Era distribuitor la o firm\u0103 de bere cunoscut\u0103 – exist\u0103 un \u00eenceput \u00een toate. \u00cembina utilul cu pl\u0103cutul, c\u00e2\u0219tiga experien\u021b\u0103 \u0219i bani, avea timp s\u0103 \u00eenve\u021be \u0219i s\u0103 se distreze, \u00eel captivase ideea de a avea un job, s\u0103 nu stea mereu pe banii p\u0103rin\u021bilor. Se apropia de ultimul an, apoi urma examenul de licen\u021b\u0103, \u0219i programul \u00eei permitea s\u0103 lucreze. Era st\u0103p\u00e2n pe situa\u021bie. \u0218i foarte m\u00e2ndru de ceea ce f\u0103cea.
\n\u00cen acea sear\u0103 au dansat, au sorbit o gur\u0103 de \u0219ampanie, s-au distrat, \u00eentre\u021bin\u00e2nd discu\u021bii amuzante cu prietenii, s-au implicat \u00een jocuri \u0219i glume. Ionu\u021b era absorbit de fata pe care o p\u0103r\u0103sise \u00een liceu \u0219i acum o reg\u0103sea o femeie delicat\u0103, rafinat\u0103. De\u0219i avea doar 20 de ani, Dora p\u0103rea st\u0103p\u00e2n\u0103 pe sine, avea acel ceva misterios \u0219i curat ca sufletul unui prunc. Iar faptul c\u0103 \u00eel tachina \u0219i z\u00e2mbea cu buze ro\u0219ii frumoase, \u00eel ambala \u0219i mai mult. La \u00eentoarcere spre campusul universitar, Ionu\u021b p\u0103stra t\u0103cerea, erau clipe magice. O \u021binea pe Dora de m\u00e2n\u0103, conduc\u00e2nd prudent, Bucure\u0219tiul era liber, toat\u0103 lumea dormea. Noaptea era numai a lor. Ma\u0219ina fu parcat\u0103 \u00eentre doi copaci, l\u00e2ng\u0103 trotuarul din fa\u021ba c\u0103minului. Ionu\u021b o lipise pe Dora de pieptul lui:
\n-Auzi inima aceasta din piept? Acum bate numai pentru tine!
\n-Hmmm… \u0219i mai t\u00e2rziu?? \u0218i m\u00e2ine? \u00eentreb\u0103 Dora sufocat\u0103 de \u0219uvoiul de sentimente. Era pe punctul de a se re\u00eendr\u0103gosti de acest b\u0103iat frumos, dar ceva \u00eei spunea s\u0103 fie prudent\u0103.
\n-Te iubesc, Dora! Nu \u021bi-am spus-o p\u00e2n\u0103 acum, dar acesta este adev\u0103rul, crede-m\u0103! Te iubesc, sunt \u00eendr\u0103gostit de tine, te doresc, a\u0219 putea s\u0103 fac dragoste cu tine aici sau te vei opune…
\n-Sau… \u0219opti fata emo\u021bionat\u0103.
\nIonu\u021b o s\u0103rut\u0103 pe g\u00e2t, pe gur\u0103, \u00eei pip\u0103i s\u00e2nii mici \u0219i tari, \u00eei dezveli pulpele fine, \u00eei ar\u0103t\u0103 b\u0103rb\u0103\u021bia sa ap\u0103s\u00e2nd cu degetele lungi ale fetei pantalonii lui umfla\u021bi. Era b\u0103rbat \u0219i dorin\u021bele lui erau fire\u0219ti. Se opri la timp, ceva \u00eei spunea c\u0103 nu e momentul potrivit…
\n-Iubita mea, te vreau a mea pentru totdeauna! \u0218tiu c\u0103 te-ai p\u0103strat pentru mine. \u0218tiu c\u0103 m\u0103 iube\u0219ti \u0219i tu la fel de mult.
\n-Ionu\u021b, e prea mult pentru mine, e prea repede pentru noi, a\u0219a…dup\u0103 at\u00e2ta timp… nu vreau s\u0103 m\u0103 gr\u0103besc… am suferit c\u00e2ndva, nu mai vreau s\u0103 o iau de la cap\u0103t…
\n-Da, te \u00een\u021beleg, ai dreptate, am fost doi copii inocen\u021bi \u0219i prostu\u021bi. Acum suntem maturi \u0219i iubirea adev\u0103rat\u0103 aceasta este! Te iubesc mai mult dec\u00e2t via\u021ba mea! S\u0103 nu ui\u021bi asta! O s\u0103rut\u0103 pe v\u00e2rful degetelor unul c\u00e2te unul. Cobor\u00ee din ma\u0219in\u0103 \u0219i \u00een aerul rece al lui Undrea \u00een\u021belegea greutatea cuvintelor sale, declara\u021bia \u00eenfl\u0103c\u0103rat\u0103 \u00eel f\u0103cea \u00eencrez\u0103tor \u00een viitorul lui al\u0103turi de Dora. \u00cei deschise portiera fetei \u0219i o conduse ca un gentleman p\u00e2n\u0103 \u00een camera ei. Zorile \u00eencepeau s\u0103 coloreze o nou\u0103 zi.
\n-O s\u0103 trec pe aici s\u0103 te r\u0103pesc pentru alte seri, pentru alte nop\u021bi, la fel de frumoase ca \u0219i aceasta! \u0218i o s\u0103 te cer \u0219i de nevast\u0103 alor t\u0103i c\u00e2nd vom merge acas\u0103.
\n-S\u0103 ai grij\u0103 de tine, Ionu\u021b! Ne vedem cur\u00e2nd…
\nSe s\u0103rutar\u0103 \u00een pragul u\u0219ii. Ma\u0219ina demar\u0103 cu un c\u00e2ntec de iubire \u00een surdin\u0103.<\/p>\n


\nOttilia ARDELEANU<\/strong>
\n\"\"

dulce ninsoare <\/strong><\/p>\n

a plouat monoton \u00een noaptea de vineri
\nnoroios triste\u021bea f\u0103cea b\u0103l\u021bi
\nni\u0219te licurici stropii c\u0103deau \u0219i se ridicau
\np\u00e2nza de aer ud\u0103 nu putea fi stoars\u0103
\npriveam timpul o mare scurgere
\n\u00een asfaltul ora\u0219ului<\/p>\n

am a\u021bipit c\u00e2nd zorii \u00eencepuser\u0103 s\u0103 sparg\u0103 \u00een ziduri
\ncu baroasele de m\u0103rimea b\u0103t\u0103ilor inimii
\nlumea se d\u0103r\u00e2ma iar eu degeaba ceream vremii
\ns\u0103 \u00eenceteze ruinarea
\n\u00een cer stelele se pietrificau \u0219i c\u0103deau pe p\u0103m\u00e2nt<\/p>\n

o tulburare ie\u0219it\u0103 din comun se a\u0219ternea lespede
\nmoartea se \u00eenmuiase de tot<\/p>\n

c\u00e2nd m-am dezmeticit ningea firav
\nindependen\u021bi fulgii un c\u00e2mp de p\u0103p\u0103dii spulberate de v\u00e2nt
\nhoin\u0103reau liberi \u0219i netem\u0103tori de\u0219i
\naproape to\u021bi se \u00eenecau \u00een b\u0103l\u021bile zilei<\/p>\n

unii disp\u0103reau din zbor p\u00e2n\u0103 c\u00e2nd
\nhaosul a \u00eencetat \u0219i \u00een c\u0103dere lin\u0103
\nau \u00eemp\u0103turit drumuri \u0219i case \u0219i-au adus pace<\/p>\n

\u00een alb p\u0103m\u00e2ntul pare s\u0103 nu ne fi \u00een\u0219elat a\u0219tept\u0103rile
\nla primii pa\u0219i de soare \u00eens\u0103 n\u0103lucile s-au topit<\/p>\n


\nvorbind cu mine din cel\u0103lalt spa\u021biu <\/strong><\/p>\n

cum e universul t\u0103u
\nc\u00e2t e de mare
\nprin ce respiri
\n\u0219i ce culori \u00eembrac\u0103 ochii<\/p>\n

e unul din perle g\u0103lbui
\npe buta\u0219i r\u0103sfira\u021bi
\nare gust t\u0103m\u00e2ios
\nnu numai \u00eenf\u0103\u021bi\u0219are
\nde \u0219iraguri
\npe aici ar putea trece culeg\u0103torii
\n\u00eens\u0103 nu
\naceia sunt vis\u0103tori care le cred stele<\/p>\n

e frumos la tine
\nfiecare bob e o poezie
\n\u00ee\u021bi las\u0103 o arom\u0103 aparte
\ne o form\u0103 de a tr\u0103i<\/p>\n

pot s\u0103 te vizitez
\ns-ar putea s\u0103 nu mai vrei s\u0103 te \u00eentorci<\/p>\n


\nAlex IVANOV <\/strong><\/p>\n

POETUL CU CHEIA DE G\u00c2T<\/strong>
\n Lui George Mihalcea<\/p>\n

Pe strada \u00eengust\u0103 se v\u00e2nd c\u0103r\u021bi
\ntip\u0103rite pe frunze de nuc.
\nV\u00e2ntul de toamn\u0103 \u021bine loc de coper\u021bi.
\n\u201e\u00cen ora\u0219ul \u0103sta, to\u021bi termin\u0103 o \u0219coal\u0103,
\nf\u0103r\u0103 ca nimeni s-o \u00eenceap\u0103\u201d, zice poetul
\ncu cheia de g\u00e2t.
\nUneori e sup\u0103rat, poezia lui nu mai este
\ndemult o gum\u0103 de mestecat.
\nEmigrant \u00een uitare, poetul \u0103sta vine mereu
\npe strada copil\u0103riei mele, ca s\u0103 cumpere
\npoeme, ieftine, la m\u00e2na a doua.
\nAici totul e \u00eenchis.
\nAu plecat to\u021bi cu cheile de g\u00e2t, c\u0103tre o alt\u0103 copil\u0103rie.
\nA mai r\u0103mas o c\u0103l\u0103uz\u0103, care dac\u0103 tot nu are ce face
\nconfec\u021bioneaz\u0103 chei pentru c\u0103r\u021bi.<\/p>\n

Adev\u0103rul e c\u0103 cineva trebuie s-o fac\u0103 \u0219i pe asta…!<\/p>\n


\nMICI BUCURII DE DUMINIC\u0102<\/strong><\/p>\n

Ea a \u00eenchiriat o fereastr\u0103
\npe chipul lui f\u0103r\u0103 contur.
\n\u00cen suflet poart\u0103 o ran\u0103 albastr\u0103,
\n\u00een timp ce el
\nzide\u0219te z\u0103pezi peste s\u00e2nii albi
\nai unei alte femei.<\/p>\n

M\u0103runte bucurii de duminic\u0103
\n\u021bin loc de ninsoare.
\nNimeni nu moare,
\nnimeni nu \u00eemb\u0103tr\u00e2ne\u0219te
\n\u0219i nimeni nu culege p\u0103cate.<\/p>\n

Hai s\u0103 punem botni\u021b\u0103 la \u0219arpe
\n\u0219i s\u0103 ne juc\u0103m de-a Adam \u0219i Eva,
\np\u00e2n\u0103 Dumnezeu nu \u00eenchide fereastr\u0103.<\/p>\n

Str\u0103zile au \u00eentinerit sub pa\u0219i no\u0219tri,
\niar clipe se dezbrac\u0103 pe bani de argint.<\/p>\n


\nPAS\u0102RE DE NOAPTE<\/strong><\/p>\n

Am c\u0103utat o pas\u0103re de noapte
\ns\u0103 m\u0103 iubeasc\u0103 \u0219i s\u0103-mi str\u00e2ng\u0103 trupul
\n cu aripile ei umede…
\nNu am g\u0103sit dec\u00e2t o pas\u0103re de toamn\u0103
\nu\u0219or obosit\u0103, cu aripi murdare de v\u00e2nt
\ndar frumoas\u0103 ca un col\u021b de cer.
\nMi-a f\u0103cut un cuib pentru ochii mei obosi\u021bi
\nde prea mult\u0103 a\u0219teptare.
\nParfumul de \u00eenceput de toamn\u0103 z\u0103bovea pe
\naripile ei cumin\u021bi.
\nEra o fericire \u0219i o tandr\u0103 uitare,
\no iubire ca o b\u0103taie de aripi.
\nEra ca o pas\u0103re de toamn\u0103 \u00een form\u0103 de gutuie coapt\u0103,
\na\u0219ezat\u0103 \u00een geamul de la casa din vis…
\nDar \u00eentr-o noapte a venit pas\u0103rea mea, cu aripi
\n\u00eenf\u0103\u0219urate \u00een dantel\u0103 neagr\u0103 \u0219i umed\u0103.
\nMi-a privit trupul din c\u0103ma\u0219a cusut\u0103 din frunze,
\napoi m-a luat cu ea \u00een ora\u0219ul plin de suspine!<\/p>\n

Nici acum nu \u0219tiu s\u0103 deosebesc
\no pas\u0103re de noapte de o femeie. <\/p>\n


\nPA\u0218I F\u0102R\u0102 DRUM<\/strong><\/p>\n

Drumul \u0103sta ar fi trebuit s\u0103 duc\u0103 \u00een sufletul t\u0103u,
\npove\u0219ti cu iubiri de o via\u021b\u0103.
\nPe drumul \u0103sta trebuia s\u0103 ne \u00eentoarcem \u00een frunze
\neu \u0219i cu tine.
\nEu am r\u0103mas pe drum cu buzunarele pline de castane,
\neu am r\u0103mas pe drum, \u00eenf\u0103\u0219urat
\n\u00een amintirea rochiilor tale.
\nTu ai r\u0103mas la cap\u0103t de drum
\nca o z\u00e2n\u0103 pervers\u0103 cu bluza ta verde,
\nplin\u0103 cu s\u00e2ni prea cop\u021bi pentru m\u00e2inile mele.
\nTu ai r\u0103mas la cap\u0103t de iubire,
\nf\u0103r\u0103 s\u0103 \u0219tii de c\u0103ldura trupului meu,
\nf\u0103r\u0103 s\u0103 \u0219tii de c\u0103ldura trupului t\u0103u,
\nf\u0103r\u0103 s\u0103 \u0219tii c\u0103 eu \u0219i cu tine
\nmai aveam un drum de f\u0103cut.<\/p>\n


\nMAHALAUA DIN CAPUL MEU<\/strong>
\n Lui Liviu Vi\u0219an<\/p>\n

\u00cen mahalaua din capul meu
\nse bea bere la sticle de plastic,
\nc\u00e2inii se latr\u0103 \u00eentre ei,
\niubirile se \u00eempart \u00een cadrul campaniei
\n\u201eAjutoare pentru iubirile luate de ape\u201d,
\nse asfalteaz\u0103 doar str\u0103zile cu so\u021b,
\nv\u0103duvele primesc gratis c\u00e2te o sticl\u0103 de vin negru,
\nlamele de ras se v\u00e2nd doar pe pepeni,
\npoe\u021bii licen\u021bio\u0219i au abonament la ciorb\u0103 de burt\u0103,
\nfluturii au interdic\u021bie de a zbura pe timp de zi,
\norgasmul se pl\u0103te\u0219te doar la asocia\u021biile de locatari,
\niar arti\u0219tii din cartier lucreaz\u0103 \u00een folosul comunit\u0103\u021bii.<\/p>\n

Am uitat ceva, mare\u0219ale?<\/p>\n


\nConstan\u021ba POPESCU<\/strong><\/p>\n


\nAglomer\u00e2nd lini\u0219tea <\/strong><\/p>\n

Diminea\u021ba dintre da \u0219i nu, titanii voin\u021bei se \u00eenclin\u0103…
\nPantofii tineri nu mai au c\u00e2nd
\ns\u0103-mi creasc\u0103 lini\u0219tea peste t\u0103ceri.
\nMai treceau ni\u0219te bucurii \u00eembujorate,
\nm\u0103 recuno\u0219teau la un cap\u0103t de r\u00e2nd,
\ns\u0103risem peste el, ca s\u0103 fiu eu prima,
\ns\u0103 m\u0103 vezi s\u0103rb\u0103toare.
\nToate zilele puteau fi duminici
\nde adunat clipele albe,
\nproblemele se orientaser\u0103 spre noapte
\n\u0219i m\u0103 \u00een\u021bepau la col\u021buri, c\u0103r\u0103rile umbreau
\nsperan\u021be irosite, eu pierdusem re\u021betele de iubit.
\nB\u0103rba\u021bii ambalau t\u0103ceri \u0219i frici
\n\u00een h\u00e2rtia bomboanelor oferite,
\nstr\u0103zile le str\u00e2ngeau mir\u0103rile pe umeri,
\ngr\u0103bind s\u0103 nu uite g\u00e2nduri tainice.
\nAm s\u0103-\u021bi vorbesc despre bibliotecile cuvintelor,
\naliniate pe sentimente, cu chei vechi p\u0103strate
\npentru temerari. E o a\u0219teptare acolo,
\naglomer\u00e2nd lini\u0219tea, un combustibil
\noric\u00e2nd inflamabil…<\/p>\n


\nT\u0103cerile sunt oarbe<\/strong><\/p>\n

Dimine\u021bi palide \u00eentre jum\u0103t\u0103\u021bi de g\u00e2nd
\nfurat somnului,
\nt\u0103cerile \u00eentre cuvinte te a\u0219teapt\u0103,
\nm\u0103tur ni\u0219te gesturi ce nu le voi mai face.
\nOrele au explodat a\u0219teptarea
\nmirat\u0103, c\u00e2nd cotrob\u0103i prin sertarele cu sentimente
\nstivuite fierbin\u021bi, \u00een starea de agregare
\na dorului.
\nJum\u0103tate de suflet ar fuma o \u021bigar\u0103,
\nar scrie poezia fiarei \u00eembr\u0103\u021bi\u0219\u00e2nd oasele b\u0103tr\u00e2ne,
\nce iat\u0103, lumineaz\u0103 rug\u0103ciunea de la ziu\u0103.
\nLumea lupt\u0103 cu mir\u0103ri neterminate,
\n\u00eentre dou\u0103 c\u00e2ntece jum\u0103tatea trist\u0103, aglomereaz\u0103
\nfericirea pe centimetru p\u0103trat de plec\u0103ri,
\nvenirile sunt bonus tinere\u021bii, c\u00e2nd triste\u021bile oarbe nu m\u0103 judec\u0103,
\ndar mi se a\u0219az\u0103 pe prag.<\/p>\n


\nIubind cu Esenin anotimpuri<\/strong><\/p>\n

Esenin e trist, r\u0103v\u0103\u0219e\u0219te prin frunzele toamnei,
\npoe\u021bii \u00eel citesc mai pu\u021bin
\n\u0219i-l simt tot mai des p\u00e2n\u0103-n oase.
\nRaiul e la o palm\u0103 distan\u021b\u0103,
\ndragostea cur\u0103\u021b\u0103 locul, lacrima clopotului
\nm\u00e2ng\u00e2ie delicat suflet \u0219i carnea ce arde.
\nCheile tale, doar poe\u021bii le \u00eencearc\u0103,
\nmoartea bea vinul devreme,
\ntu te tulburi \u00een g\u00e2nduri,
\nnimicul at\u00e2rn\u0103 pe gene.
\nCerul a tras azi cortina,
\n\u00eengerii \u00eei fac pomenirea,
\nr\u0103m\u00e2ne poetul, iubita \u0219i dorul
\ncresc\u00e2nd anotimpuri de \u0219oapte,
\npoezia e bl\u00e2nd\u0103, t\u0103cut\u0103 \u0219i cald\u0103
\n\u00eembrac\u0103 \u00een frunze c\u0103r\u0103rile toate,
\nceasul a hot\u0103r\u00e2t prea devreme r\u0103mas bun,
\nnu-i nimic nici \u00een via\u021b\u0103,
\ndoar moartea salveaz\u0103 cuv\u00e2ntul,
\n\u00eembrac\u0103 poetul \u0219i dorul.<\/p>\n


\nTriste\u021bi ini\u021biate<\/strong><\/p>\n

Umbl\u0103 vorba c\u0103 toamna nu mai \u00eembrac
\nrochia cu bucurii m\u0103runte,
\neu le mai \u00eentorceam c\u00e2nd pe fa\u021b\u0103 c\u00e2nd pe dos
\ns\u0103 fie proaspete, crocante cum le doream
\nodat\u0103… nu se mai potrive\u0219te cu lumina
\ncare \u00eent\u00e2rzie diminea\u021ba s\u0103-mi trag\u0103 de gene,
\nculorile ei sunt a\u0219a de multe
\nc\u0103 nu-mi place s\u0103 le stric pictura. At\u00e2ta risip\u0103
\nde toamn\u0103, am gustul merelor mereu cu mine.
\nCuvintele se supun, g\u0103sesc mai greu
\nforma perfect\u0103 \u00een care p\u0103str\u0103m pu\u021bin\u0103 toamn\u0103,
\nmult dor, ploi c\u00e2t s\u0103 ne verific\u0103m emo\u021bia,
\niubirea aia decolorat\u0103 pe care
\nn-am avut timp s\u0103 o reabilit\u0103m
\ndar tot ne este drag\u0103, cutele de pe frunte
\n\u0219i m\u00e2inile neobi\u0219nuite s\u0103 se resemneze.
\nSe aud ve\u0219ti \u0219i se amplific\u0103 zvonuri grele,
\ncur\u00e2nd vom \u00eenchide obloanele, tragem perdeaua
\nnoi , cu noi \u0219i fricile noastre, al\u021bii ne vor face curat,
\n\u00eentre g\u00e2nduri e loc de mir\u0103ri,
\ncineva ne fur\u0103 mai mereu s\u0103rb\u0103torile…<\/p>\n


\nUn Bacovia m\u00e2ndru<\/strong><\/p>\n

Scrisorile mele sunt tinere,
\nmi le \u00eembr\u0103case mama \u00een \u0219uvi\u021ba aia,
\n\u00eendelung dezmierdat\u0103, renun\u021basem la ea,
\ndup\u0103 moda zilei… dar tu o iubeai…
\nVorbele au \u00eenc\u0103 parfum de \u00eenceput
\nde sf\u00e2r\u0219it, bucuria e trist\u0103 \u0219i b\u0103tr\u00e2n\u0103…
\ndoar poeziile lupt\u0103
\n\u0219i Bacovia e m\u00e2ndru, urma\u0219ii sunt puternici
\ncu verbul verde, prosoapele se albesc
\ncur\u0103\u021b\u00e2nd triste\u021bi .
\nM\u00e2ine e o zi imprevizibil\u0103,
\nadresa mea ai uitat-o,
\nsau pa\u0219ii au ocolit amintirile,
\npoeziile au miros de scrum, cenu\u0219a
\nacoper\u0103 boala singur\u0103t\u0103\u021bii…
\ndoar noi \u0219i valsul.<\/p>\n


\nNimicul la Metru p\u0103trat<\/strong><\/p>\n

Ce mai cau\u021bi prin biblioteci?
\nC\u0103r\u021bile au literele arse, mormane de cuvinte
\nsunt \u0219terse din Dex, povestim prin imagini stilizate,
\nelectronic, pentru fiecare altfel. Original.
\nNe alerg\u0103 timpul, ne consum\u0103 nimicul,
\np\u00e2n\u0103 la os. Ne na\u0219tem \u00eenv\u0103\u021ba\u021bi. Uit\u0103m,
\nun mecanism care schimb\u0103 priorit\u0103\u021bile.
\n\u0218i erau acolo monumente, tr\u0103iri s\u0103pate \u00een carne,
\nsclipiri ale clipelor cel uimeau pe Dumnezeu,
\nmartorul minunilor neexersate.
\nEram eu , tu \u0219i divinul explicat. Magie \u0219i mirare.
\nC\u0103r\u021bi. Rafturi \u00eentregi cu sentimente,
\nOamenii din ce \u00een ce mai mici,
\nse satur\u0103 cu greieri, au obosit s\u0103 le asculte
\npovestea, au ei de inventat Nimicul la mp.<\/p>\n

Rochia cu ploi<\/p>\n

Sunt femeia cu cea mai statornic\u0103 triste\u021be
\n\u0219i c\u00e2nd o alung, st\u0103 ascuns\u0103
\n\u00een vreun buzunar al sor\u021bii
\n\u0219i \u00eemi ocup\u0103 clandestin locurile
\nunde plantasem flori de bucurii albastre.
\nAm cei mai obosi\u021bi pa\u0219i,
\nz\u00e2mbetul mi-a uitat privirea,
\nm\u00e2inile netezesc un portret uscat,
\ndecolorat la t\u00e2mple.
\nAm \u00eenceput s\u0103 \u00eembrac rochia
\ncu ploi bo\u021bite, mult prea str\u00e2mt\u0103
\nde la ultima \u00eembr\u0103\u021bi\u0219are.
\nSingur\u0103tatea cu mirosul lutului,
\nmai \u021bine toamna de vorb\u0103,
\nla o cafea se mai negociaz\u0103
\nvisele, se mai coloreaz\u0103 ni\u0219te doruri
\n\u0219i trecem pe curat regrete,
\nuit\u00e2nd cuvintele cu care am s\u0103pat
\ntriste\u021bii riduri.
\nMai exist\u0103 ni\u0219te anotimpuri uitate
\nprin buzunarele sor\u021bii
\n\u0219i atunci restabilim traseul \u0219i negociem pa\u0219ii…<\/p>\n


\nBucuriile tocite se rostogolesc<\/strong><\/p>\n

Respir\u0103m, \u00eenc\u0103 respir\u0103m ni\u0219te zile, luni,
\nore timide, \u00eentinse la soare. Pe poteci
\nurmele au miros de bucurie, de flori de busuioc,
\n\u0219terg uit\u0103ri. Singur\u0103t\u0103\u021bile fac hor\u0103 \u00eentre dimine\u021bi,
\nmama le m\u0103tura mereu \u0219i aprindea un foc zdrav\u0103n
\ns\u0103 \u00eenc\u0103lzeasc\u0103 ni\u0219te vise uitate
\ncu care-\u021bi st\u00e2rneam mir\u0103rile.
\nIstorii repetate, din alte vie\u021bi, imagini palide
\nse aga\u021b\u0103 de tocul ferestrei, z\u00e2mbetul meu
\ne \u0219ters, privirea nu obose\u0219te s\u0103 a\u0219tepte,
\nni\u0219te ore ag\u0103\u021bate de pendula b\u0103tr\u00e2n\u0103
\n\u0219i se sting \u00een t\u0103cere.
\nNu \u0219tiu cine hot\u0103r\u0103\u0219te p\u00e2n\u0103 c\u00e2nd, p\u00e2n\u0103 unde
\nse \u00eentinde lini\u0219tea dintre cuvintele
\ncare adun\u0103 singur\u0103t\u0103\u021bi.
\nBucurii tocite se rostogolesc spre apus,
\nc\u00e2nd devenim pete de culoare cu care respir\u0103m
\nalte dimine\u021bi.<\/p>\n


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

Strig\u0103te l\u0103sate singure<\/strong><\/p>\n

Septembrie umbl\u0103 pe str\u0103zi
\ncu sufletul la gur\u0103
\nnelini\u0219tea treaz\u0103 \u00eendoiala
\npar nonsensuri \u00een care se ascund
\nstrig\u0103te l\u0103sate singure
\nabsen\u021be ne\u00een\u021belese de toate v\u00e2rstele<\/p>\n

peste noi umbra
\nnici ur\u00e2t\u0103 nici frumoas\u0103
\nse aude cum \u00ee\u0219i arunc\u0103 n\u0103voadele
\npres\u0103r\u00e2nd fo\u0219nete
\nc\u0103l\u0103toare \u00eentr-o cernere efemer\u0103<\/p>\n

fiecare clip\u0103 somat\u0103 s\u0103 tac\u0103
\ndevine g\u00e2nditoare
\nori rupe crengile v\u00e2ntului
\nuna c\u00e2te una
\npentru c\u0103 nu vor s\u0103-l asculte<\/p>\n


\nDespre triste\u021be<\/strong><\/p>\n

O auzi c\u00e2nd te strig\u0103 pe nume
\nc\u00e2t mai familiar cu putin\u021b\u0103<\/p>\n

este martor\u0103 a g\u00e2ndului
\nne\u00eemp\u0103cat
\n\u0219i a \u00eendoielii care \u00ee\u021bi bate la u\u0219\u0103<\/p>\n

\u00ee\u0219i poart\u0103 pa\u0219ii la r\u0103scruci
\nde umbre st\u00e2rnind ne\u00een\u021belegeri
\n\u0219i promisiuni
\npe care nu le g\u0103se\u0219ti oriunde<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Gina ZAHARIA *** Hai s-adun\u0103m, de prin toamn\u0103, pove\u0219ti, ne vor a\u0219tepta peste dealuri, departe, c\u00e2teva g\u00e2nduri, cinci frunze uscate<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":18,"featured_media":18831,"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":[7,328],"tags":[],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22013"}],"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\/18"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=22013"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22013\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":22014,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22013\/revisions\/22014"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/18831"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=22013"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=22013"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=22013"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}