{"id":25788,"date":"2026-09-14T00:29:10","date_gmt":"2026-09-13T21:29:10","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/?p=25788"},"modified":"2026-09-14T00:29:10","modified_gmt":"2026-09-13T21:29:10","slug":"literadura-nr-40-13","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/?p=25788","title":{"rendered":"Literadura nr. 40 (13)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Valentin TUFAN<\/strong>
\n\"\"

Armonia unui hazard<\/strong><\/p>\n

Nu exist\u0103 perfec\u021bie \u00een via\u021b\u0103, e ca un ton armonizat
\ncu un bruiaj sacadat scos de un pick up vechi.
\nplaca transmite semnale \u00een timpanul scrupulos al idealului
\niar oscioarele urechii vibreaz\u0103 \u00eentr-un echilibru demn de hazard.<\/p>\n

C\u0103ci via\u021ba are hazardul inel de diamant pe degetul mic –
\no m\u00e2n\u0103 precede o moned\u0103 \u00eentre degete,
\niar arlechinul suprem ascunde moneda cu un gest subtil sub
\ncarapacea urechii – nectar desprins din Ikar<\/p>\n


\nKeep it real<\/strong><\/p>\n

Se scurg viiturile din palm\u0103 ca un lung \u0219ir de salve trase
\n\u00een sirop de napalm –
\nadulmec\u0103m primejdia ca pe o ploaie nec\u0103zut\u0103
\ndar trecut\u0103 \u00een cont –
\nsistemul de operare, fereastra vie\u021bii descre\u0219te \u00een to\u021bi
\nca un horoscop evisceral sub pielea scoab\u0103 a vie\u021bii –
\nvirtual\u0103 virtute real\u0103 ce pare \u00een aparen\u021b\u0103
\n\u0219i se dizolv\u0103-n esen\u021b\u0103.
\nO demen\u021b\u0103 ag\u0103\u021bat\u0103-n cagula glossy din raiul volatil
\nars de \u021bigara kitch a realit\u0103\u021bii keep it real.<\/p>\n


\nStrig\u0103te \u00een eter<\/strong><\/p>\n

Sunet-cuv\u00e2nt, un lan\u021b nearticulat \u00een tr\u0103ire
\nmu\u0219c carne din mine ca un zombie anonim
\nf\u0103cut celebru \u00een anxietatea cuv\u00e2ntului <\/p>\n

sinapsa vie\u021bii e un fir de praf pe o stof\u0103 ponosit\u0103
\nfirul meu de via\u021b\u0103 are ADN propriu
\n\u0219i zace latent \u00een orice tr\u0103ire nematerializat\u0103<\/p>\n

legea cuv\u00e2ntului intr\u0103 sub inciden\u021ba autorit\u0103\u021bii secundei
\nca o bil\u0103 din leag\u0103nul lui Newton
\n ce strig\u0103 Evrika \u00een agora din papier m\u00e2ch\u00e9 a timpului<\/p>\n

reprezent\u0103ri \u0219i forme \u00een sculptura de eter
\nreziduuri-frac\u021biuni din gaura de vierme
\no prevestire platonic\u0103 drept avatar spre
\ngalaxia verbum<\/p>\n


\nYolanda Jim\u00e9nez GARC\u00cdA (Spania)<\/strong><\/p>\n

Poet\u0103 \u0219i prozatoare. Este absolvent\u0103 a \u0218colii de Asisten\u021b\u0103 Social\u0103, Licen\u021biat\u0103 \u00een Sociologie \u0219i are un Master \u00een Terapie Gestalt. A publicat trei c\u0103r\u021bi de poezie, a tradus dou\u0103 de Babakar Khane, colaboreaz\u0103 cu diverse reviste, iar poezia sa a fost inclus\u0103 \u00een numeroase antologii.
\nTraducere \u0219i prezentare:
\nElisabeta BO\u021aAN<\/strong><\/p>\n

Metafizic\u0103 ordonat\u0103<\/strong><\/p>\n

Ordonatul timp,
\nlimitele, fluidele.
\nTotul pare s\u0103 fie enclava sa
\nexist\u0103 semnale de nerecunoscut,
\nnisipurile mi\u0219c\u0103toare se deplaseaz\u0103,
\n\u00eeneac\u0103 chipul \u00een mla\u0219tinile memoriei.
\nO c\u0103rare construit\u0103 peste aer.
\nE un v\u00e2nt de suflete,
\ncol\u021buri, aman\u021bi \u0219i sinuciga\u0219i.
\n\u00cen de\u0219erturile disperate
\nfiin\u021bele se transform\u0103 \u00eentr-o dezordine
\na ordinii. <\/p>\n


\nHimere<\/strong><\/p>\n

A zbura cu v\u00e2ntul adormit,
\n\u00eenchipuirea pe care
\nto\u021bi am avut-o c\u00e2ndva.
\nS\u0103 te \u00eenal\u021bi \u00een acest fel,
\nexperimentarea libert\u0103\u021bii
\n\u00een efemerul unei clipe.
\nO urm\u0103 de adiere,
\nun capriciu al zefirului.
\n\u00cen fiecare noapte
\nm\u0103 apropii de labirintul minotaurului.
\nCaut\u0103-m\u0103 \u00eentre ghemele
\nfirelor Ariadnei.
\nAcum zeii zac \u00eenvin\u0219i,
\ndeposeda\u021bi
\nde puterile cele rele.
\nPe plajele s\u0103rate
\nse p\u0103streaz\u0103 miturile.<\/p>\n


\n Eve<\/strong><\/p>\n

Creatoare \u0219i femeie
\ndou\u0103 temelii,
\no mie de c\u0103i.
\nPrima Eva,
\nm\u0103rul de nectar,
\na speriat b\u0103rba\u021bii,
\nle-a aprins temerile
\na pus \u00een mi\u0219care arcurile.
\nInchizitori piromani,
\ncruzimi \u00een lan\u021b.
\nGenera\u021bii fecundate
\n\u00een bur\u021bile vie\u021bii
\nn\u0103scute de femei.
\nEduca\u021bie, con\u0219tiin\u021b\u0103,
\nlibertate, respect
\n\u00eentre fiin\u021be \u0219i sexe.
\nMereu la p\u00e2nd\u0103,
\nviolen\u021ba nu doarme niciodat\u0103. <\/p>\n


\nTrei ani<\/strong><\/p>\n

Mamei mele, Martina.
\nIn memoriam.
\nR\u00e2ul vine umflat.
\nMalurile s-au \u0219ters
\n\u00eentr-un puhoi continuu,
\n\u00een murmurul maro
\nal unor ochi eterni.
\nApa c\u0103l\u0103tore\u0219te nest\u0103vilit\u0103,
\ndoar un l\u0103m\u00e2i e martor
\nal puternicei energii,
\nfertilizant pentru gr\u0103dini \u0219i vie\u021bi.
\nE vreme de prim\u0103var\u0103,
\nde mu\u0219cate, de cale \u0219i de bucurii.
\nZorii m\u0103 trezesc
\nexact la ceasul ultimei tale sufl\u0103ri.
\nO melodie t\u0103cut\u0103
\nparfumeaz\u0103 pacea care m\u0103 \u00eenv\u0103luie.
\n\u00cen propria mea oglindire,
\nam certitudinea ta. <\/p>\n


\nFlorentina Loredana DALIAN<\/strong>
\n\"\"

Potcoava cu noroc<\/strong><\/p>\n

Mergea pe strad\u0103 cu capul plecat, ca un om am\u0103r\u00e2t \u0219i coco\u0219at de toate grijile lumii, g\u00e2ndind c\u0103 n-a avut \u0219i el noroc \u00een via\u021ba asta \u0219i c\u0103-i mai mereu urm\u0103rit de ghinion, care se \u021bine de el ca r\u00e2ia de om. Nu c\u0103 n-ar fi avut \u0219i r\u00e2ie, dar pe asta o considerase oarecum un noroc, la vremea respectiv\u0103, c\u0103-l ajutase s\u0103 scape de una ur\u00e2t\u0103 care pusese ochii pe el \u0219i se \u021binea dup\u0103 trena lui tot cam ca r\u00e2ia.
\n\u0218i cum se t\u00e2ra el a\u0219a cu ochii-n p\u0103m\u00e2nt, v\u0103zu deodat\u0103 o potcoav\u0103. De cal mort, de cal viu, nu mai conta, c\u00e2t\u0103 vreme norocul i se ar\u0103tase \u00een cale tocmai lui care… Iat\u0103 \u2013 \u00ee\u0219i spunea \u2013 cum din toat\u0103 lumea asta care trece pe strad\u0103, tocmai pe el l-a ales potcoava s\u0103-i ias\u0103 \u00een cale. A\u0219a \u00eenc\u00e2t, f\u0103r\u0103 s\u0103 stea mult pe g\u00e2nduri, se aplec\u0103 \u0219i o culese de jos.
\n Lu\u0103 potcoava \u0219i-o azv\u00e2rli \u00een buzunarul de la piept, \u00eentrez\u0103rind o urm\u0103 de speran\u021b\u0103 prin mirosul de b\u0103legar care se insinua tot mai insistent din buzunar. Nevasta \u00eel boscorodi c\u00e2nd \u00eel sim\u021bi a\u0219a \u00eenmiresmat, regina nop\u021bii, nu alta, dar lui pu\u021bin \u00eei p\u0103s\u0103 de boscorodelile ei, c\u00e2t\u0103 vreme azi \u00eei ie\u0219ise norocu\u2019nainte. Deja se visa prin palate de cle\u0219tar, cu zeci de cad\u00e2ne \u00een preajm\u0103, \u00eenfulec\u00e2nd bucatele cele mai alese \u0219i ingurgit\u00e2nd cu sughi\u021buri cele mai fine vinuri, de care nici m\u0103car nu auzise, \u00eens\u0103 de bun\u0103 seam\u0103 trebuia s\u0103 existe, c\u0103 doar potcoava nu minte.
\n O scoase din buzunar, o \u0219terse de m\u00e2nec\u0103, dar nu prea tare, s\u0103 nu \u0219tearg\u0103 \u0219i norocul odat\u0103 cu rahatul de cal aferent, \u0219i o a\u0219ez\u0103 la loc de cinste, \u00eentr-un cui deasupra u\u0219ii, a\u0219a cum \u00eei \u0219ade bine unei potcoave norocoase. Se d\u0103du un pas \u00eenapoi \u0219i-o privi, zic\u00e2ndu-\u0219i c\u0103 via\u021ba se vede oleac\u0103 mai roz acum. M\u0103 rog, dac\u0103 se uita mai bine, era mai mult maronie, dar ce mi-e roz, ce mi-e c\u0103c\u0103niu.
\nPeste noapte, p\u0103m\u00e2ntul s-a cutremurat. S-a trezit din somn speriat, \u00een zg\u00e2l\u021b\u00e2ielile nevestei, care credea c\u0103 au intrat ru\u0219ii cu tancul sau cu bomba atomic\u0103 p\u00e2n\u0103 la ei \u00een odaie. Dar el era un ins lucid, a priceput repede c\u0103 nu r\u0103zboiul le bate la u\u0219\u0103, ci cutremurul, \u0219i a-nceput s\u0103-i strige netoatei de femeie: \u201eRepede, treci \u00een toc, treci \u00een toc!\u201d Asta, ame\u021bit\u0103 de-a binelea, \u00ee\u0219i c\u0103uta singura pereche de pantofi cu toc pe care-i p\u0103strase \u00eenc\u0103 de la nunt\u0103, dar nu-i g\u0103sea nici cu lum\u00e2narea. Atunci el \u00ee\u0219i zise \u00een sine: \u201eN-ai dec\u00e2t s\u0103 cr\u0103pi, dac\u0103 e\u0219ti proast\u0103! Unde mi-o fi fost mintea, c\u00e2nd te-am luat? Vorba aia: am ales, p\u00e2n-am cules!\u201d.
\n Dup\u0103 aceste reflec\u021bii f\u0103cute cu obid\u0103, se a\u0219ez\u0103 \u00een tocul u\u0219ii, a\u0219a cum \u0219tia din mo\u0219i str\u0103mo\u0219i c\u0103 se face la cutremur, chiar dac\u0103 Inspectoratul Pentru Situa\u021bii de Urgen\u021b\u0103 avea, mai nou, cu totul alte recomand\u0103ri \u00een caz de seism.
\n\u0218i cum st\u0103tea \u0219i se zg\u00e2ia la nevast\u0103-sa, c\u0103ut\u00e2nd ame\u021bit\u0103 dup\u0103 tocuri, deodat\u0103 sim\u021bi c\u0103-l p\u0103le\u0219te ceva \u00een moalele capului. Crezu c\u0103 se d\u0103r\u00e2mase casa pe el \u0219i murise, dar nev\u0103z\u00e2nd niciun \u00eenger prin preajm\u0103, nici vreun drac, except\u00e2nd-o pe diavoli\u021ba de nevast\u0103, \u0219i mai ales sim\u021bind un oarecare parfum de b\u0103legar, \u00een\u021belese. Potcoava, potcoava lui norocoas\u0103 \u00eei f\u0103cuse un ditamai cucuiul. Se putea s\u0103 aib\u0103 \u0219i el noroc m\u0103car o dat\u0103-n via\u021b\u0103? \u201eLa mine \u2013 g\u00e2ndi \u2013 chiar \u0219i norocul se transform\u0103-n ghinion.\u201d \u0218i, mai mult dec\u00e2t at\u00e2t, sim\u021bind \u00eenc\u0103 durerea de la fierul du\u0219m\u0103nos ce-i g\u0103urise inteligen\u021ba, se lumin\u0103 deodat\u0103 \u0219i pricepu sensul profund al ur\u0103rii: \u201eBat\u0103-te-ar norocul s\u0103 te bat\u0103!\u201d Pe el \u00eel b\u0103tuse. \u00cen cap. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Valentin TUFAN Armonia unui hazard Nu exist\u0103 perfec\u021bie \u00een via\u021b\u0103, e ca un ton armonizat cu un bruiaj sacadat scos<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":17,"featured_media":25615,"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\/25788"}],"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=25788"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/25788\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":25789,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/25788\/revisions\/25789"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/25615"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=25788"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=25788"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=25788"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}