I knowI know a window filled with eyeswhere you and the spiders weave the fabric of sleeplessnessI know a body filled with the chaos of wild forestswhere the monster nests in angels' feathersI know a constantly suicidal thoughtwords wear masks and bring twilight on the citiesthey use a razor to shave the rust from their templesI know some windows in churches before which hope kneelsshadows enter d ...
I know
I know a window filled with eyes where you and the spiders weave the fabric of sleeplessness
I know a body filled with the chaos of wild forests where the monster nests in angels' feathers
I know a constantly suicidal thought words wear masks and bring twilight on the cities they use a razor to shave the rust from their temples
I know some windows in churches before which hope kneels shadows enter dragging in the velvet of their silence the doorstep of a house where light is festering 'a pain through which birds enter churches' hit the walls and keep singing and singing
tell me, childhood what do you remember of your storybook left without birds
[From the collection Dincolo- Beyond]
The Mask
a dark green fabric in a poorly-lit room tendrils of smoke, as tangled as your paths dance on the walls ceiling eyes of those present
under impassible masks the playing cards are swiftly thrown cutting the strange silences with a short wail
you know of no rules you don't understand any card the routine of the forced game burns your fingers illusions chase each other on your unmasked face
it's your turn, bastard, put on more masks and fingers tremble with impatience
blood rushes boom! boom! purple veins blossom light dots you with golden coins everything around you is turning threateningly
the sea breaks in with its broken bits of blue in another cool space
an opal mask is materializing on your face with swiftness the card is grabbed from your hand and bounces with a soft thump on the fabric
[From the collection Măşti de opal- Opal Masks]
Nothing by Heart
light kills itself in your green eyes and you don't know it by heart anymore but you keep on prattling about the nighttime which pours wax on the crosses from the garden of silences and shows you things the way they should have been
crows croon inside your soul and hold out walking canes and the dark glasses of the blind so that you find your way to the Gnostic gods who have lost their foliage of words and look out through milky eyes
they will watch you peacefully touch your cheeks with a myrrh finger while crushing the sand from your tears like seeds stuck between teeth
in their greenish eyes light kills itself
you remember nothing of prayer of poetry and fasting nothing you remember nothing by heart
[From the collection Cu lumina în palme-With Light in Palms]
biografia:
Maria PAL [born 16 November 1948, in Boteşti, Neamţ county, Romania], was awarded a BA by the Faculty of History and Philosophy of the 'Babeş-Bolyai'University of Cluj-Napoca in 1974. She is a teacher, poet and graphic artist. She was first published in 1968 and is a member of the Uniunea Scriitorilor din România [The Union of Romanian Writers]. Foreign languages: profficient in German and French, beginner in English. She collaborated with the following Romanian literary magazines: Apostrof, Ateneu, Bucovina literară, Ceahlăul, Cetatea culturală, Citadela, Contemporanul. Ideea Europeană, Convorbiri literare, Euphorion, Dacia literară, Familia, Jurnalul literar, Luceafărul, Oglinda literară, Poesis, Poezia, Pro Saeculum, România literară, Scrisul Românesc, Spaţii culturale, Steaua, Tiuk, Tribuna, Unu, Vatra ş.a. Published poetry: Nesomnul