{"id":24410,"date":"2025-03-13T00:26:49","date_gmt":"2025-03-12T21:26:49","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/?p=24410"},"modified":"2025-03-13T00:26:49","modified_gmt":"2025-03-12T21:26:49","slug":"literadura-nr-35-3","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/?p=24410","title":{"rendered":"Literadura nr. 35 (3)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Maribel Dom\u00ednguez Duarte <\/strong> <\/p>\n

Maribel Dom\u00ednguez Duarte (Spania, 1971) a studiat la Universitatea din Alcal\u00e1 unde a ob\u021binut Licen\u021ba \u00een Drept. A publicat dou\u0103 c\u0103r\u021bi de poezii \u0219i este co-realizatoare a emisiunii \u201eOla de entretiempo\u201d de la Radio Creactividad. De asemenea, este pasionat\u0103 de teatru \u0219i activeaz\u0103 \u00een Asocia\u021biile Tithya Teatro \u0219i Ascena.
\nTraducere \u0219i prezentare: Elisabeta Bo\u021ban. <\/p>\n

\u201eZorii nu inim\u0103\u201d Joaquin Sabina\t<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00cencerc s\u0103 ignor oglinda nou\u0103 din ochii t\u0103i.
\nPielea mea fl\u0103m\u00e2nd\u0103 se r\u0103suce\u0219te \u00een noapte
\namintindu-\u0219i ecoul cuvintelor tale,
\ncare au aprins lumini colorate
\n\u00eentr-o oarecare suburbie \u0219i
\nmi-au colorat z\u00e2mbetul \u00een ro\u0219u
\npe culmea unei arz\u0103toare pulsa\u021bii.<\/p>\n

\u0218i m\u0103 pierd \u00een tunelul unui pahar cu alcool
\n\u00een timp ce mi-e dor s\u0103 te v\u0103d \u0219i \u00een acela\u0219i timp s\u0103 te uit.
\nBlamez \u0219i binecuv\u00e2ntez privirea aceea
\n\u00eent\u00e2lnit\u0103 la r\u0103scrucea dorin\u021bei
\npe care nu am putut s\u0103 o alung\u0103m,
\ndestinat\u0103 atingerii unor buze,
\n\u00eenv\u0103luite de premeditare \u0219i
\nm\u00e2ng\u00e2ieri neobi\u0219nuite
\npe care le simt \u00een singur\u0103tatea aceast\u0103 \u00eendep\u0103rtat\u0103
\n\u00een care nu g\u0103sesc ad\u0103postul pieptului t\u0103u.<\/p>\n

Gura mea mut\u0103, acum nu-\u021bi mai poate rosti numele,
\n\u0219i doar \u0219tie s\u0103 scrie aceste versuri.<\/p>\n


\nAdio<\/strong>
\nPentru Fernando \u0219i Alicia<\/em><\/p>\n

Strig\u0103tul meu e un sunet surd \u0219i sec.
\nLa fel ca acest pendul care \u00eemi love\u0219te plato\u0219a r\u0103nit\u0103.
\n\u0218tim c\u0103 ineluctabila c\u0103l\u0103torie definitiv\u0103
\ne scris\u0103 \u00een piatr\u0103
\ndar ne surprinde cu picioarele legate,
\nbuzele pecetluite,
\nprea ocupa\u021bi pentru c\u0103
\nnu cunoa\u0219tem semnifica\u021bia cuv\u00e2ntului moarte,
\n\u0218i se izbe\u0219te frontal
\ncu duritatea realit\u0103\u021bii.
\nFrunzele c\u0103zute \u00eentr-o toamn\u0103 \u00eensorit\u0103
\nacoperind durerea unei pierderi
\n\u00eenv\u0103luite \u00eentr-o figur\u0103 de piatr\u0103
\n\u0219i frigul pielii pe care o m\u00e2ng\u00e2iem pentru ultima dat\u0103
\ntrece prin sf\u00e2\u0219iatul nostru suflet,
\n\u00een form\u0103 de pa\u0219i solitari \u00eenso\u021bi\u021bi
\nde peisajul amintirii
\ncare va tr\u0103i \u00een sim\u021burile noastre.
\nE consolarea celor vii resemnarea muritorilor
\nce se men\u021bin fermi la plecare
\ncu o floare \u0219i o lacrim\u0103
\nca metafor\u0103 a unei desp\u0103r\u021biri.
\n\u00cempotrivindu-se uit\u0103rii. <\/p>\n


\nIulia DRAGOMIR<\/strong>
\n\"\"

Univers<\/strong><\/p>\n

Te-am privit
\n\u0219i am \u0219tiut dintr-o \u00eembr\u0103care a aerului \u00een posibilit\u0103\u021bi
\nc\u0103 timpul se va de\u0219ira \u00een fata noastr\u0103 cu un covor ro\u0219u,
\npe care vom p\u0103\u0219i cu t\u0103lpile goale \u0219i cu inimile,
\ncopaci \u00eenflori\u021bi,
\ncu petale alunec\u00e2nd \u00een palme \u0219i pe umerii trec\u0103torilor,
\nbucuro\u0219i de \u00eent\u00e2lnire.
\nTe a\u0219ezase\u0219i lene\u0219
\n\u0219i m\u0103 urm\u0103reai atent
\ncum m\u0103 alungisem,
\ndup\u0103 cum \u00eemi treceam un picior peste cel\u0103lalt,
\ndup\u0103 cum z\u00e2mbeam cu o curiozitate
\npe care o \u00eenfigeam \u00een pove\u0219tile
\npe care mi le-ai pus deodat\u0103 la picioare.
\nSe \u00eembulzeau stoluri,
\nd\u00e2nd din aripi exact pe t\u00e2mpla mea cald\u0103.
\nNu \u0219tiam dac\u0103 s\u0103 calc peste ecoul lor
\nsau s\u0103 ascult de glasul care c\u00e2nta vr\u0103jit,
\n\u00eenv\u0103\u021b\u00e2ndu-m\u0103 o limb\u0103 nou\u0103,
\naceea pe care odat\u0103 \u00eenv\u0103\u021bat\u0103,
\nnu a\u0219 fi putut-o uita,
\npe care o \u00eemp\u0103rt\u0103\u0219eam lumii,
\nportal de acces la lumina din noi.
\nTe-am \u00eent\u00e2lnit \u00eentr-o alipire de vis
\n\u0219i de atunci a \u00eenceput o nou\u0103 via\u021b\u0103.
\nA crescut din mine, din tine,
\nf\u0103r\u0103 putin\u021b\u0103 de \u00eempotrivire,
\napropiind, \u00een s\u0103ruturi, de mare, toate sensurile. (29.01.2025)<\/p>\n


\nTr\u0103ind<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u0218i trec t\u0103cerile \u00een c\u00e2rd de \u00eent\u00e2mpl\u0103ri cu must pe buze,
\ncu gust de via\u021b\u0103, de s\u0103ruturi \u0219i obuze.
\nAdulmec tot ce-n aer m\u0103 respir\u0103 \u0219i m\u0103 bea,
\nalunec\u0103 spre mine g\u00e2ndul, gura ta.
\nDin dou\u0103 suflete ce-\u0219i sorb f\u0103r\u0103-ntreb\u0103ri nesa\u021bul,
\nprimesc \u00een clip\u0103, \u00eentre palme, drumul, bra\u021bul,
\nce trag spre nemurire starea,
\ndin care cre\u0219te timpul \u0219i deschide-n cer c\u0103rarea.
\nC\u00e2nd te ascult, sunt armonii ce-\u0219i urc\u0103 s\u0103getarea.
\n\u0218tiu, drag\u0103, cum \u00ee\u0219i face loc,
\n\u00een toate, c\u0103utarea,
\ncum dragostea p\u0103\u0219e\u0219te ne\u00eenvins\u0103,
\nst\u0103p\u00e2ne\u0219te mun\u021bii, marea!
\nPrintre aceste c\u0103i cu muzical refren,
\nstr\u0103bat prin via\u021ba-mi coridoare, sunt \u00een tren.
\nM-apropii de tunelul v\u0103muit de ceas
\n\u0219i iau nectarul dorului r\u0103mas
\ns\u0103 c\u00e2nte el din fluier peste c\u00e2mp,
\n\u00een glas de heruvim,
\nPrivindu-ne \u00een ochi,
\n\u00eentr-un balans de neoprit, s\u0103rb\u0103torim. (1.02.2025)<\/p>\n


\nAlina Ane-Marie PRIPON<\/strong><\/p>\n

C\u00e2ntecul ve\u0219niciei<\/strong><\/p>\n

Fata gri cu p\u0103rul roz,
\n\u00centinz\u00e2ndu-\u0219i
\nAripile str\u0103vezii
\nNe-a r\u0103pit
\n\u0218i ne-a dus spre
\nCercul s\u00e2ngeriu.
\nAcolo,
\nLa masa zeilor,
\nFecioarele verzi
\nNe-au intonat
\nTimid, exuberant,
\nVesel, trist
\nC\u00e2ntecul ve\u0219niciei.<\/p>\n


\nV\u00e2n\u0103torii de vise<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00censerarea zilei
\nCare nu va urma
\nNe-a adus \u00eempreun\u0103.
\nV\u00e2n\u0103torii de vise
\nNe a\u0219teapt\u0103
\nS\u0103 ne spun\u0103:
\n\u201eNoapte bun\u0103!\u201d
\nNu vreau s\u0103 dorm
\n\u0218i nici s\u0103 gust \u00eenc\u0103
\nDin somnul ve\u0219niciei.
\nVreau s\u0103 alerg,
\nS\u0103 privesc,
\nS\u0103 strig,
\nS\u0103 r\u00e2d,
\nS\u0103 tr\u0103iesc.<\/p>\n


\n\u0218i noi<\/strong><\/p>\n

Flori de piatr\u0103
\nPe morm\u00e2ntul gol
\nTrist, negru, viu.
\nFlori de m\u0103r,
\nP\u0103m\u00e2nt uscat,
\nIarb\u0103 proasp\u0103t\u0103,
\nPustiu
\n\u0218i noi.<\/p>\n

Cu\u0219ca leului s-a deschis
\n\u0218i din ea au ie\u0219it
\nFiara cenu\u0219ie,
\nMisterele de alt\u0103 dat\u0103
\n\u0218i noi.<\/p>\n


\nCeasul <\/strong><\/p>\n

La ceas tainic de noapte
\nS-au adunat martorii t\u0103cu\u021bi
\nAi ve\u0219niciei noastre:
\nSoarele \u0219i luna,
\nStelele \u0219i cerul.
\nAu fost pe r\u00e2nd
\nP\u0103rta\u0219ii suferin\u021bei noastre.
\nAm strigat, am pl\u00e2ns, am uitat.
\nCu resemnare ne-am acceptat
\nPlecarea.
\nA\u0219tept\u0103m noi ceasuri tainice
\nCa s\u0103 rena\u0219tem \u00een alt loc,
\n\u00cen alt ceas,
\n\u00centr-o alt\u0103 ve\u0219nicie.<\/p>\n


\nLumina zilei de m\u00e2ine <\/strong><\/p>\n

Ploaia cade
\nLini\u0219tit
\nPeste vise,
\nPeste g\u00e2nduri,
\nPeste noi,
\nPeste tot.
\nRece.
\nCald.<\/p>\n

\u00centr-o lume
\nGri,
\nPustiit\u0103 de nevoi,
\nDe dragoste,
\nDe tot.
\nNegru.
\nAlb.
\nLarm\u0103.
\nPlute\u0219te \u00een aer
\nSperan\u021ba zilei
\nDe m\u00e2ine.
\nVia\u021b\u0103.
\nMoarte.
\nSoare.
\nNoapte.
\nLumini
\n\u0218i umbre deopotriv\u0103.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Maribel Dom\u00ednguez Duarte Maribel Dom\u00ednguez Duarte (Spania, 1971) a studiat la Universitatea din Alcal\u00e1 unde a ob\u021binut Licen\u021ba \u00een Drept.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":17,"featured_media":24399,"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\/24410"}],"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=24410"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24410\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":24411,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24410\/revisions\/24411"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/24399"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=24410"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=24410"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=24410"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}