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 forei - The Insomnia of the phor [1999], Preludiu pentru tăceri - Prelude for Silences [2000], Străpuns de negăsire - Impaled by the Unfound [2000], Cuibul flăcărilor - The Nest of Flames [2000], Tristeţi nimbate - Apotheotic Sadness [2001], Între două bătăi de secundă - Between Two Beats of a Second [2001], Măsura cenuşii - The Measure of Ash [2002], 50 de poeme - 50 Poems [2002], Ore de umbră - Hours of Shade for which she received the Award for published poetry during the 4th 'Duiliu Zamfirescu' Contest, and the Award of the Uniunea Scriitorilor Filiala Cluj - The Union of Romanian Writers, Cluj [2004], Dincolo - Beyond [2005], Măşti de opal - Opal Masks [2006], O carte răsfoită de vânt - A Book Leafed Through by the Wind [2008], Cu lumina în palme - With Light in Palms [2009].
She is a curator for: Memoria exilului românesc - The Memoir of Romanian Exile [2002, in collaboration with fellow poet Ion Cristofor], Ion Caraion, Scrisori către Nicholas Catanoy - Letters to Nicholas Catanoy [2003].

mariacardei@ymail.com