din cand in cand era marti

Nora Iuga

cum poti sa mai existi
cand ti se taie raiul in doua
si malurile lui stau fata-n fata
ca niste armate dusmane
vreau sa scriu acum
cat creierul sangereaza
pixul acesta este egalul lui dumnezeu
nu vreau sa astept sa se aseze drojdia
nu vreau sa astept sa ma ridic deasupra
sa ating distanta regulamentara
de unde se vad mai clar
dezastrul si ramasitele lui
iata sunt o cutie nenorocita de carton
din care s-au scos pantofii
si i s-a pus capacul la loc
vine de undeva un necunoscut
vrea sa-mi vanda cutitele la pret redus
eu imi pipai carotida si simt
o irezistibila atractie
o fata chiar o fata era
aratarea aceea alba
o ectoplasma care vorbea la telefon
pe urma izbitura zilei in fata
cand telefonul disparea
cu numere cu tot
si s-ascundea intr-o padure
printre ciupercile rosii
ca niste semnale de alarma
mi s-a sfasiat realitatea
de sub ea iese o fata de cal
care alearga singur si fara jocheu
continuandu-si cursa pana la capat
sa fii constiincios
sa-ti neglijezi pana si durerea
ca sa-ti indeplinesti obligatiile
din cand in cand era marti
din cand in cand era miercuri
atunci se ridica mercurul in termometru
as fi vrut sa fac o perversitate
sa-mi desert cuvintele
in urechea unui barbat
pana la orgasm
dar tot ce fusese posibil
e acum o mare pata arsa
ramasa pe fata de perna
dupa ce ai adormit cu tigara aprinsa
daca raman singura
ca pisica aceea care-si pierde sangele
printre copaci nevazuta de nimeni
am avantajul unei umilinte distinse
un geam spart pe care cineva
a lipit un pergament
iata fumez fumez ca o nebuna
mi-am regasit riscurile
sunt mai tanara decat o nuia de salcie
in duminica floriilor
vad adevarul vad vaza de sticla
in care apa a secat
ar trebui sa-mi fardez
pleoapele obrajii
o punga incretita pe fundul careia
au ramas dare de boia
ar trebui sa ma intalnesc
cu niste domni batrani
sa-mi trec setea
prin vara lor secetoasa
vin umbrele ca niste camasi
straine de noapte
vin umbrele ca niste trenuri negre
in dreapta si-n stanga terasamentului
morti tineri nepasarea lor pura
stergand orice promisiune
acum cand nu mai exista alternativa
cand inelul si-a pierdut piatra
nu mai apelez la nici o carte de poezie
nu ma mai tenteaza nici macar
furtul unui vers
asta-i trufia mea
cu ea ma acopar
sub stalpul de beton
teapan si rece
prin care trece curentul
fara sa-l atinga

every once in a while it was tuesday

how can you still live
when your paradise gets cut in half
and its brinks lie face-to-face
like enemy armies
i want to write now
while the brain is bleeding
this pen is god’s match
i won’t wait for the dregs to settle
i won’t wait to rise above
to reach the legal distance
whence one can see more clearly
disaster and its remnants
look i am a poor cardboard box
shoes taken out
and lid put back on
from somewhere comes a stranger
he wants to sell me knives at low price
i feel my artery and sense
an irresistible attraction
a girl it was precisely a girl
that fair apparition
an ectoplasm talking on the phone
then the day’s slap in the face
when the phone would vanish
numbers and all
and hide in a forest
amidst the mushrooms red
as warning signs
my reality has been torn
from underneath emerges the face of a horse
racing alone without its jockey
on and on up to the finish line
be industrious
be ignorant even of your pain
so as to meet your duties
every once in a while it was tuesday
every once in a while it was wednesday
the mercury would rise in the meter then
i would have liked to commit a perversity
to spill my words
into a man’s ear
up to orgasm
but whatever had been possible
is now a large burnt stain
left on the pillowcase
after falling asleep with the cigarette lit
should i end up alone
like that cat shedding blood
among trees out of sight
i am favoured by my noble humility
a broken window that someone
patched with a parchment
look i’m smoking smoking myself crazy
i’ve recovered my perils
i am younger than a willow twig
on palm sunday
i can see the truth i can see the glass vase
that ran dry
i should paint
my eyelids my cheeks
a wrinkled bag with the bottom
all traces of dye
i should date
some old gentlemen
to dip my thirst
into their draughty summer
here come the shadows like night gowns
strangers to the night
here come the umbrellas like black trains
on both sides of the railing
dead youth their innocent carelessness
wiping off all promises
now that there is no other way
when the ring has lost its gem
i won’t turn to any more poetry books
i’m not even lured anymore
by stealing a line
this is my pride
it’s what i drape with
under the concrete pillar
stiff and cold
through which power runs
without even touching it
 

Translated by Veronica Bala