Germain DROOGENBROODT: Efemera floare a timpului (poeme)

DICHTEN

Van het woord

de sluier lichten

zonder het gedicht

te ontsluieren.

A SCRIE POEZIE

 

A ridica vălul

cuvântului

fără a dezbrăca

poemul.

MORGENSTER

Paul Celan: O Blume der Zeit

De morgenster

die zich aan duistere bronnen beneveld heeft

weerspiegelt zich nog even in het ochtendrood

verdwijnt dan

met de vergane dromen van de nacht

aangefakkeld door het licht

ontluikt de dag

efemere bloem

van de tijd.

LUCEAFĂR

Paul Celan: O, floare a timpului

(Traducere: Gabriela Căluțiu Sonnenberg)

 

Luceafărul

umbrit în tulbure abur de izvoare

pentru o clipă oglindește văpaia zorilor

dispare-apoi

cu ale nopții vise stinse

cu licărul scânteii lui aprinse

apare-o nouă zi

efemeră floare

a timpului.

LICHTTEKEN

(a Raquel Lanseros)

In het oog

een schijn van maanlicht

een zachte bries

zoals een woord soms

een handgebaar

of een omhelzing

een glimp van licht

dingen voor het hart.

SEMNALE LUMINOASE

(lui Raquel Lanseros)

 

În ochi

rază de lună

o boare delicată

precum cuvântul uneori

un gest schițat din mână

sau o îmbrățișare

un licăr luminos,

daruri de suflet.

DAGSCHEMERING

Zoals de zon soms weifelt

tussen komen of gaan

zo weifelt soms ook het geluk

en weet het niet goed waarheen

naar dageraad

of naar nacht.

CREPUSCUL

 

La fel cum astrul câteodată

cumpănit zăbovește între dus și întors

și fericirea chibzuiește la răstimpuri

nehotărâtă încotro s-o ia

spre zori

sau spre-ntuneric.

DE JAGER VAN HET WOORD Continue reading „Germain DROOGENBROODT: Efemera floare a timpului (poeme)”

Luca CIPOLLA: Poeme/poesie

Myosotis

 

Né da primo o ultimo sole

ricavo linfa

e

quale voce

assuma il verbo

che carezza

mano di sorella

e mi sorregge

in cilestrine vesti..

annullami..

ch’io sia

piuma che trascende il velo,

bruma,

assorto nel primo refolo

di mattino

che si desta

e di petalo in petalo

infine vibrare.

 

Myosotis

 

Nici de primul ori ultimul soare

nu primesc limfă

și

care voce

să preia verbul

mângâind

mână surorii

și mă susține

pe după veșminte albăstrui..

anulează-mă..

să fiu eu

pană care transcende vălul,

pâclă,

absorbit de prima adiere

a dimineții

care se deșteaptă

și petală cu petală

în fine vibrez.

 

 

Beatitudine

 

Quando uno spiraglio s’apre,

fenice muta

solo un istante sei,

beatitudine.

Vorrei galleggiare

sul mare della mutevolezza,

candido fotone

nel raggio incalcolato

ed assopito

venuto a consolare

l’orda passeggera.

 

Beatitudine

 

Când o deschizătură se dezvăluie,

fenix mut

doar o clipă ești,

beatitudine.

Aș vrea să plutesc

pe marea mutabilității,

candid foton

în raza nenumărată

și ațipită

ce a venit să consoleze

hoarda trecătoare.

 

 

Erato

 

Erato,

nata da terra,

su corde

apparenti cuciture

del tempo,

trecce,

silenti battiture,

ospedale di

coriandoli e colori,

calvario surreale!

Così,

isola spersa sei,

Erato,

volpe in fuga,

dove il maestro

e dove il resto.

 

Erato

 

Erato,

născută din pământ,

pe corzi

cusături aparente

ale timpului,

cosițe,

tăcute tastări,

spital de

confeti și culori,

calvar suprareal!

Astfel,

insulă pierdută ești,

Erato,

vulpe fugară,

unde maestrul

și unde restul.

 

 

Piegato

 

Piegato

e ben disposto

a sentire il peso della luna

..scintille cristalline

trascendono l’istante

ed è meglio

piuttosto che

limitarsi alle memorie.

Il lago cela silenzi di morte

e il cigno stride all’ultimo bagliore.

Profuma l’erba

e saliva è la terra

che sa di ferro,

scherma l’orizzonte

e chiude gli occhi

all’ultimo sipario

senz’applausi.

 

Aplecat

 

Aplecat

și bine dispus

să simt povara lunii

..scântei cristaline

transcend clipa

și e mai bine

decât să

mă limitez la amintiri.

Lacul ascunde tăceri de moarte

și lebăda strigă ultimei sclipiri.

Parfumează iarba

și salivă este pământul

ce are gust de fier,

ecranează orizontul

și închide ochii

ultimei cortine

fără aplauze.

––––––––-

 

 Luca CIPOLLA

Milano, Italia

21 aprilie 2019

***

FIȘĂ DE AUTOR

 

Luca CIPOLLA,  poet și traducător, născut în Milano, recunoscut pe plan internațional.

 

Redactor al revistelor “Sfera Eonică” şi “Regatul Cuvântului” din Craiova, colaborator de bază la revista “Boema”, “Climate Literare”, “Cafeneaua Băniei”, “Melidonium” şi la revista internațională online “Starpress”. Prezent în colegiul redacțional al revistei “Amprentele sufletului”. Membru asociat A.C.S.R. (Asociația Canadiană a Scriitorilor Români).

Volume publicate:

 

  • “Monade/Monadi” – poeme în limba română şi italiană, împreună cu Melania Cuc, Editura Karuna, Bistrița, septembrie 2014;
  • “Exilul” – poeme în limba română, Editura Rafet, Râmnicu Sărat, septembrie 2016;
  • “In viaggio per dove/În drum spre unde” – poeme în limba italiană şi română, Edizioni DrawUp, Latina (Italia), septembrie 2017. 

Reviste şi ziare în care am mai publicat:

  • Oglinda Literară, Nord Literar, Luceafărul, Ecouri Literare, România Literară, Apostrof, Vatra, Basarabia Literară, Moldova Literară, Revista Literară Bucovina, Actualitatea Literară, Caiete Silvane, Revista Argeş, Cervantes, Vatra veche, Revista Armonii Culturale, Onyx din Dublin, Mozaicul, Lumina Lină/Gracious Light din New York, Lumea Românească, Revista A.V.A, Revista Zeit, Litere, Nomen Artis, Citadela, Destine Literare din Montréal, Dăruiri literare, Lohanul, ziarul „Ro-mania” din Cipru, Poeti e Poesia di Elio Pecora, revista internațională Levure littéraire, ProSaeculum, revista Pro Arme, Mişcarea Literară, revista Alternanţe din Hofheim-Germania, Apollon, Singur, cotidianul “Răsunetul”, Revista POEZIA, Revista Bogdania, Constelaţii diamantine, ziarul Naţiunea, Cronos, Urmuz, Scrisul Românesc, Negru pe Alb, Copiii Europei din Rep.Moldova, Contact international, Semne-Emia, Sintagme literare, Vorba din Ardeal, Revista Orizonturi Literare, Revista Feed Back, Memoria Slovelor, Litera13, Revista Plumb, Surâsul Bucovinei, Mărturii culturale, Ardealul literar, Taifas literar, Expresia Ideii, New York Magazin, POESIS, Viaţa liberă, România Ta Diaspora, Surâsul Bucovinei, Il Convivio, Cartelul metaforelor, Banchetul, Impact, Scrisul bănăţean, Cronograf, Roua Stelară, Surâsul Bucovinei, Revista Almăjana, Ziarul Argeşul, Nautilus, Renaşterea Ruşeţeană, Rotonda valahă, L’incontro-Periodico di Cesano Boscone, Lumina literară şi artistică, Revista TIMPUL şi LitArt.

Reviste literare online în care am publicat:

  • ro, Visul, Onestiul Cultural, Poezii.biz, Tânărul Scriitor, ClementMedia, Editura Mateescu, Confluenţe Literare, Port@leu, Carte Allineate, Clubul Cafeneaua Literară, Orizonturi Literare, Revista Omniscop, Le Reti di Dedalus, Multilingua Pages For Education, Literature & Art, Tellusfolio.it, Agentiadecarte.ro, Scrivere.info, www.bistritanews.ro, www.poesianuova.com, www.clipa.com, www.gandaculdecolorado.com, uzp.org.ro, Odysseo.it, Respiro.org, Revista online a Asociaţiei Scriitorilor de Limbă Română din Québec, Prăvălia Culturală, Jurnal Românesc, www.rotalianul.com, www.ecreator.ro şi În bătaia peniţei.

Premii și distincții:

2012:

  • Premiul I pentru poezie la Concursul de Creație Literară “Visul”- Ediția a VII-a;
  • Premiul special al revistei “Boema” ca cel mai bun colaborator din străinătate în cadrul Festivalului Național de Literatură “Prietenia cuvintelor” din Galați.

Continue reading „Luca CIPOLLA: Poeme/poesie”

Fernando PESSOA: IX Sunt un păstor

Heinrich von Zügel, 1850-1941

IX

Sunt un păstor.

Turmă-mi sunt gândurile
iar ele toate, simțuri îmi sunt.
Gândesc cu ochi și urechi
cu mâini și tălpi
cu gură și nări.

Când gândesc floare, o văd și o adulmec,
un fruct dacă îl mușc, înseamnă că îl gust.

Așa se face că-ntr-o zi de vară
fiind eu trist, mă-nfrupt din toate astea
întins pe iarbă
și-nchid ochii înfierbântați,
simțind cum mă cufund în calda realitate,
în adevărul cunoscut, mă cuibăresc și sunt ferice.

Alberto Caeiro (Fernando Pessoa), Portugalia (1901-1988)
Traducere: Germain Droogenbroodt – Gabriela Căluțiu Sonnenberg

***

Sou um guardador de rebanhos./O rebanho é os meus pensamentos/E os meus pensamentos sao todos sensaçaóes./Penso com os olhos e com os ouvidos/E com as maos e os pés/E com o nariz e a boca./Pensar urna flor é ve-la e cheirá-la/E comer um fruto é saber-lhe o sentido.//Por isso quando num dia de calor/Me sinto triste de gozá-lo tanto,E me deito ao comprido na erva,/E fecho os olhos quentes,’Sinto todo o meu corpo deitado na realidade,/Sei a verdade e sou feliz.

Ivan HRISTOV: Harfa

HAR

Harfă mi-e trupul tău
freamătă corzi deasupra
cutiei rezonante
degetele mele ciupesc
gâtul
întinsa suprafață
acuități
triunghi
un arc de vânătoare
trubaduri
truveri
minesengeri
Monteverdi
Gluck
Berlioz
Glissandoul specific
stopează rezonanța.
Las în blândă cădere
una sau două mâini
pe corzi să odihnească.

Ivan Hristov,  Bulgaria, 1978
Traducere: Germain Droogenbroodt Gabriela Căluțiu Sonnenberg

Din “A Dictionary of Love”

 

HARFA

Tvoje telo je harfa

Žice duž zvučne ploče

Rezonantna kutija

Pokreće se prstima

Vrat

Povisilica

Snizilica

Obliku trijangla

Gudalo

Trubadura

Truvera

Mnesanga

Monteverdija

Gluka

Berlioza

Karakterističan glisando

Koji zaustavlja

Rezonancu

Lagano stavljam jednu

A ona drugu ruku

Preko žica

Ivan Hristov (Bugarska)

Miroslaw GRUDZIEŃ: Lecție

“Continuum”, Joseph Beuys

 

Lecție

Atât de rare sunt cuvintele
pe care mă căznesc să le exprim
firicele din praf de cretă
dintr-un burete folosit
pentru a șterge
tabla

 

ceva rămâne mărturie
un os în gât
căznindu-se să iasă

 

pe tabla de la școală
un venerabil dascăl
text ilizibil scrie:
viața mea

 

din ce în ce mai scurt e timpul
până când clopoțelul va suna
cuvinte tot mai drămuite
consumă creta reducând
praful rămas pe degetele mele.

MIROSŁAW GRUDZIEŃ, POLONIA

Traducere: Germain Droogenbroodt – Gabriela Căluțiu Sonnenberg

 

***

LEKCJA /  tak mało słów / z siebie wyduszam / tyle co kredowego pyłu z gąbki / po starciu tablicy //  ciągle coś pozostaje / tkwi kością  w gardle /  nie chce wyjść // stary belfer / pisze na szkolnej tablicy /  niezrozumiały  tekst / moje życie // coraz mniej czasu do dzwonka / coraz mniej słów / coraz mniej kredy / w palcach

George ANCA: Three With Sanskrit

SANSKRIT-ROMANCE ONTOPOETICS

L’IMAGINATION DE BAUDELAIRE Sanskrit Correspondence

IDOEMINESCOLOGY

 

 

SANSKRIT-ROMANCE ONTOPOETICS

         Through an ontologic poetics – and not compulsory Heidegger’s Dasein — we see beyond satyasya satyam (the reality of the real) or superintellectual reality of the mystery, the poet as such, as poet to poet, as Tagore’s personaliz­ed upanishadic advaitam (the mystery of one) which is anantam (infinite) and which is anandam (love).

         Tagore’ s „O fire, my brother” sounds as Franciscan „il mio fratello sole”. Trans- cribing in Latin the Buddha’s fourth noble truths – suffering, origin of suffering, cessa-tion of suffering, the eightfold way leading to the cessation of suffering as – dolor, doloris ortus, doloris interims, octopartita via ad doloris sedationem Dhamapada -, Artur Schopenhauer has identified morally the bikkhus and mandicant order of St. Francisc. Sometime, the philosopher’s disciple, Mihai Eminescu, took again the way from Latin to Sanskrit, looking to change, for instance, the name of one his Romantic character called Mors (Death) into Nirwana. Significant enough, Jawaharlal Nehru confessed he didn’t know more Sanskrit than Latin. May be what meant Sanskrit creative unity to Tagore was for & as the Latin one for Ezra Pound in whom „Cantos” flows as if same Ganges of Petrarch, while, on the other hand, last century Mirza Ghalib didn’t spend   time any more for reading Sikandar’s life. Now, from poetics to poetry as an orderWelt-literature could be observed as Sanskrit, Greek, Latin. Ontologically the mechanism looks freer, the theme of love for example trying to be one either as ecstatic knowledge or as disorder of human rational equilibrium.

 Indo-Latin Kavya Purusha. A Latin ecce India still keeping in the beginnings ‘Java’ of „Mahabharata’ resounds from Catullus „India’s arid land’ and Horace’s peace of mind ‘with no gold nor tasks that India yelds’ to Cavalcanti’s chiostra/ Chel’s sente in India ciascun Unicorno’. Camōes’ ‘o illustre Ganges que na terra celesta tenho o berco verdadeiro’ or Góngora, from Baudelaire and Eminescu to Dario, Pessōa, Montale. On a modern Sanskrit ground we can attend – as Pound said about Brancusi – that ‘exploration toward getting all the forms into one form’ – Latin satires, epodes, odes, epistles, sermons continued into Italian sonetto. French chanson, Spanish romancero, Romanian doina, Portuguese redondilha. For, said Michael Madhu Sudan, ‘ cultivated by men of genius, our sonnet would in the time rival the Italian’. With such thought to a Sanskrit-Latin sonnet I published in my book of poems -Ardhanariswara” (International Academy ‘Mihai Eminescu’, Delhi, 1982). Lope de Vega’s Cuando el mejor planeta en el diluvio’. Baudelaire’s Correspondances’ and Eminescu’s ‘Venetia’, in Sanskrit version done together with U. R. Trikha, from Spanish, French, Romanian respectively,

‘Ganga  Dnnuvyava saha samgachhati’

Lope de Vega

‘niseva vidyutiva rasarupani

dhvanayah prativadanti parasparam

Baudelaire

‘sthiram jivanam vishla venitsyayah’

Eminescu

One verse by Eugenio Montale,

‘cio che non siamo, cio che non vogliamo’

is transounded as follows into Sanskrit by Satyavrat Shastri,

‘na vayam smo na ca tatha yadvayam kameyawaho’.

  1. M. Masson confesses also a Sanskriturn-Latin smriti parallelling a Sanskrit sloka with one of Dante’s,

kavinam manasam naumi taranti pratibhambhasi

yatra hamsavayamsiva bhuvanani caturdasa

Nel mezzo del camin di nostra vita

mi ritrovai per una selva oscura

 

 

With only a (half) sloka open­ing the Hymn of Origin from Rig Veda we face onto-poetry’s source.

 

Rig Veda („Hymn of Creation” starts):

nasad asin, no sad asit tadanim

 

Mihai Eminescu:

La-nceput, pe cind fiinta nu era, nici nefiinta

 

Sanskrit (re-)version by Rasik Vihari Joshi:

adau sampurnasunye na hi kimapi yada

sattvamasinna casi

 

Hindi, by Usha Choudhuri :
Pranihina. sattarahita. ajiva

 

Gujarati, by Mahendra Dave:
Tyare natun ko Sat, na asat

 

Punjabi, by Gurbhagat Singh:
Jadon thakian akhan nal main mombati
bujhaunda han

Malayalam, by O.M. Anujan (Dravidian languages, as Pali, taken with Sanskrit):

Adiyilekku nissunyata nannile

4.8.Tamil,byP.Balasubramanian:
MudhanMudhalil.thodakkathil,
Onrumatra verumaiyil

 

 

    The Indian poets answer today, rather than old Latin continent, some Latin American creators, themselves looking forward personal Sanskrit poetic  myths. Otherwise, the Sumitranand Pant’s inner sorrow keeps the journey in universal Sanskrit.

    In the context of the Indian literature, looking upon some trends, spheres of influence amongst groups and generations – beyond the perception of common essences and inspirations summarizing a complex originality—there are new concomitantly universal and Indian personalities; so it’s to be contemplated that creative process, given impulse by the Sanskrit root growing up under the sun of the whole world. The incommunicable inner drama of the poet lets itself be shared through the directness of language, the ideal of beauty and human participation.

       All are transfigured within the art, a if divine, and of the Prajapati (creator).

          Anthropology of New Recognition. There is no need to say that making literature as anthropology and anthropology as literature one loses one’s chance to be recognized within either of them. But the theme of recognition itself can be a joint topic, on top of it may be Kalidasa’s “Recognition of Sakuntala” (Abhijnan Sakuntalam). Even after some two thousands or two thousands and a half years it seems that Dushyanta recognizes his deserted wife almost for the sake of their child, successor to the throne.

A XIX century’s replica is Cãlin poem by Mihai Eminescu, in which the recognition of the deserted wife, after years, starts by meeting the child.

Philosophy of recognition in modern times includes patterns drawn by Hegel, Pascal or Lacan. An anthropology of recognition would record also discrimination between cultures and their representatives to the extend of cultural cannibalism, colonialism-globalism, localism, etc. To be recognized during or after demise is very little related to one’s will. It seems rather an outer concept. It is quite hard to enjoy the non-recognition, but after all, then it is time to find God. Does God recognize a person unrecognised even by self? Is it possible to get God’s message when all expectations are transformed in lost obsession of Divinity?

Two poems of different ages and others reveal the devotion-recognition to Goddess or simply Woman. Shankaracharya’s Saundaryalahari and Dylan Thomas The Ballad of Long Legged Bite are almost at the antipodes one from the other, yet they may meet either in Shakta cult or in surrealistic mysticism of woman. Sanskrit worshipper makes a cosmic prayer to the Divine Mother on the whole and part by part, while the Welsh balladist thinks of woman in pieces thorn apart by sharks and lovers. While the religion – recognition of Uma, Daughter of Himalaya attracts hotly tantric and advaitin followers, the woman-bite is recognizable only through song recreation of the victim in tune with legions of raped and kidnapped heroines.

The woman is recognized as Goddess and as a bite almost in the spiritual inspiration, once an enthusiastic devotion, twice even still more literary as empathically ballad. The joy and sorrow come together as the characters are concerned, but both works convey either advaita-nondual, or Don’s love recognition in the same move as prayer and chatarsis causes-effects.

From thousand to thousand years, from Sakuntala to Saundaryalahari and ballad Goddess-bite other characters and feelings are transformed or forgotten also as recognition of the fact that recognition is not possible.

Feminine Theoanthropoetics. The anthro-poetry (I have proposed the term in 1970, at the 10th ICAES, New Delhi) may deal with a transcendental deputation of man as creator and of the creator as god but also with the human share of the supreme creation through the poetical cosmogonies. Some Indo-European creative myths are quite separated from the current theories of the universe but not so within poetry. For instance, the cosmic symbolism of woman’s hair grows independently fromKalidasas’s Usha/Dawn (Sanskrit-Romanian trans-soundation: ava yoseva suna/urusa yati prabhunjati/ave ei eva juna aurusa-n pridvor de zi” – George Anca. Ardkanariswara, International Academy Eminescu, Delhi, 1982) in the Veda or the Milk Ocean to Eminescu’s blonde Indian princess or Brancusi’s La negresse blonde.

          The ambiguity between divinity and hair-fairness is obvious in the appellations of Krishna as Krishna (derived from ka – Brahma, ica – Siva, vo – one that goes before Brahma and Shiva; or from kesa-hair, and va – who possesses, fair-haired) or as Vasudeva meaning dark-blue or brown (M.N. Dut). And everybody enjoying, reading, commenting, dancing, translating (what be in that case a sort of trans-translation) Jayadeva’s Gitagovinda, remembering or not the ten opening avatars of Vishnu will witness differently the climax-reproach of Radha speculating on Krishna’s name (as -‘dark”). While the avatars of Hyperion in Eminescu’s poem are marked in the eyes of moon-like girl, Catalina, just by changing color of his hair. „Thus Rāma banished will be no-Rāma”‘ („not charming”) says Manthara to Kaikeyi” (Rumayana by Valmiki). Sanskrit nymphs, poetesses, characters can be paralleled with blonde avatars in modern poetry, from Kalidasa’s Urvasi to Giraudoux’ Ondine.

  1. K. Warder, Indian Kavya Literature, vol. 2, Motilal Banarsidas, Delhi, 1974: „The travelers look with unblinking eyes peasant’s daughter made pale with flour. ‘ With desire, as if at Fortune coming forth from the Ocean of Milk” (Maharastri verse from 2 A. D.) „The allusion here is to the myth of the churning of the Ocean by the gods, which produced among other precious things the Goddess Fortune (Laksmi), moreover Fortune is symbolized by the color white. It is a commonplace that the gods’ eyes do not blink, thus the travelers’ stares would suggest that they were gods’ (p. 192). Vol. 3, 1977: From Kalidasa’s Urvashi: – „At the rite of her creation was the Moon the Creator, giving his charm? ‘ Was it Pleasure himself with the sensitive as the one aesthetic experience? Was it the Moon who is the source of flowers?’ – For how could an ancient sage, dull through studying the Veda, his interest averted from sense objects, create this delightful form?” (p. 139).

          An almost feminine theoanthropoetics of the vision is retained by Abhinavagupta from a yoga tradition in which the eye is populated by many goddesses differently colored. Kami Chandra Pandey, Abhinavagupta. Chowkhamba. 1963, p. 533; „each eye has four orbits (Mandala) (i) white (ii) red (iii) white-black (iv) black. The first is the abode of the group of sixteen goddesses, the second of twelve, the third of eight and the fourth of four. In each of these four orbits one of the four powers, of creation, maintenance, annihilation and of manifesting itself in indefinable form, respectively predominates and so does one of the four, object (Prameya), means (Pramaaa), subject (Pramata), and knowledge (Pramiti)”.

         Continue reading „George ANCA: Three With Sanskrit”

Anna KEIKO: Zorii speranței

                      Foto Germain Droogenbroodt

 

Zorii speranței

Lumina zorilor
șterge urmele nopții
se scurge timpul nepăsător
deși eu aș vrea să-l opresc
fixat pe lentilă ca un clișeu de dor,
căci prețioasă ca rodul bogat e iubirea.

Asemenea lunii ce se-nalță în noapte
ești tu, dragostea mea, orice s-ar întâmpla
te port în inimă oriunde fiind,
de când te iubesc, alta e lumea mea,
în locașul tandreței două inimi încap
razele soarelui dau glas corzilor iubirii
spre zorii speranței cântec suind.

Anna Keiko, China

Traducere Germain Droogenbroodt – Passionaria Ivanov

 

                                                                         Picture by Germain Droogenbroodt


希望的日出

 

黎明之光

抹去夜晚的痕迹

时间不停地流淌

尽管我希望它能停下来

像照相机镜头固定的照片

因为像树上果实一样珍贵的是爱

就像月亮在夜晚升起

所以你,亲爱的,无论发生什么事

无论你在哪里,我都把你留在心里

自从我和你相爱,我的世界就改变了

因为两颗心找到了温柔的家

阳光弹拨爱的心弦

正点燃希望的曙光

原作:中 国 安娜·惠子

汉译:中 国 周道模

2019-3-25

Eminescu’s coffer – Translated by George Anca

All are old and all are new.
Ladies and gentlemen, we continue with a collection of pieces: Eminescu’s coffer.
We have starting price of 5000 EUR, who offers 5000 EUR, at number 18
5200. 5200 EUR once, 5200 twice at 120
We have 5500 EUR. 5500 once, 5500 twice at 170
6000 EUR. 6000 to 210. We continue
6300 EUR. 6300 to number 84.
We go on with 6500. At number 100 there at the end.
6800 at a time, 6800 twice. At number 18. Thank you. We continue.
7000 EUR. 7000 at a time. 7,000 twice. 7000 EUR adjudecate.

His wonderful shape is, still today, in my mind. I did saw him. A striking beauty. It was impossible to appear in a hol without attracting by his person even those who did not know him. He was extremely cheerful. And hommed when coming from his walks in Vienna park.
After an iniatory and bohemian periplus, along with various theater bands, where Eminescu was accompanied by a travel bag taken from his father, a coffer in which   he kept some books he often read, the young man was sent to Vienna as a student. Here, the coffer begins to host a series of notebooks, which are increasing from year to year.
You, old Vienna, you, ancient cradle emperors. Do you hear, at the gate, the hero’s hard step?
Long live the nation!

Eminescu was enrolled as a student at the old university of Bäckerstraße and lived in several homes between 1869-1872 when he left Vienna. He went to the Trolley café at Vollzeite, where other Romanian students were gathering. There he came daily and ordered beer, oranges or Viennese coffee. And at the requirement of the Romanian students, Eminescu held conferences with his voice full of verve. In the beginning, Eminescu always took part in debates, and he was always able to forget both the time and the self, when the object about was passionate. He also accepted the opponent’s opinion with some restrictive amendments in political, ecclesiastical and social matters. But it was implacable up to fanaticism in terms of history, philosophy and aesthetics.
Mr. Michaelis Eminescu, an eternal doctoral student in many non-useable sciences, a former librarian when he preyed the library, former reviser at the girls’ school, a former editor in chief of the Stewardship Sheet and other unreaded and of other journals collabortor.

On the pages of the 2257 manuscript there is the concept of a telegram to his father, obviously Mihai Eminescu asking for the money to be sent monthly, and on the 103rd street is the address of the National Hotel in Leopoldstadt, where the Romanian Juni Society Ball took place. Eminescu reports details about this ball.
It is known that the Society of Romanian Students in Vienna gives each year a splendid ball that enjoys a certain reputation with its elegance and beauty. Last Monday (February 14), the Society Committee composed of drd. Stihi (president), drd. Ciucu and Popazu were received in audience by His Emperor. On this occasion, His Majesty welcomed to ask for detailed information about the progress of the Romanian student society and more about the reading cabinet; he promised that, forgiving his circumstances, he would come to Bal. The ball itself was set on yesterday, Saturday. On this occasion, Mr. Strauss, Director of the Imperial Court Balls Music, dedicated the Society to a polka-francaise entitled „Snow Flake”.

Here seems to be the ball where Mihai Eminescu and Veronica Micle met.

Great room is bright, / table is white, lot of guests, / sweet talk to listen ever / and its endeared light / by gloss eyes, by many eyes
here some stay în laziness / and they dream and think / others there are yelling / and women with long eyelashes / laugh in secret and watch.
One feigns that doesn’t see / and her head is bent / wile her enamored eyes / their rays are fast / to the sad stranger
To the stranger with pale brow / and with hair like of the raven / her red lips sips / now in arms then on the lap / blind love sleeping.

Trying to re-edit Eminescu’s translation from Kant, I came across a miracle: the 44 poet’s notebooks. This miracle wos met by others in passing. But it’s good to say every story from the beginning. Open the 2258 manuscript containing the 24-year translation of the heaviest book of Kant. Go to the manuscripts 2255, 2264, 2306, all with philosophical notes, and suddenly the magic formlessness, the larval, the primary envelops you and takes you to the rest. Forget that you are pursuing a simple matter of specialty. That you are neither good at the other. That trained hands and pious minds have gone over these manuscripts, pulling out or standing to get the best of them, and you say to yourself: beyond what can get out of Eminescu is Eminescu himself. There are these notebooks, of which he did not split – and you would not want to break up, you reader, even for a while.
This is not about Eminescu’s works. About his culture. About his projects. Of his variants. The retained platonic treasures or the possible philosophical systems – it’s all about it. This extraordinary spectacle that gives you a culture of openness to everything.
Death is the extinction of the consciousness of numerical identites.

It is not perhaps to see in other culture a document as impressive and complete but Leonardo’s notebooks. It is not easy to mention any culture consciousness that – at a very often naive level – it is right – to attempt to encompass so much (in fifteen years compared to Geothe’s 60 years of assimilation and creation) to risk so much and to miss so much.

God is an atom, a mathematical point, the common point where all the powers of the earth melt to form the body of laws, the cosmic system.
How to be thanked only for the 90 poems published during the lifetime or those of the Maiorescu edition? For those of today, the culture is not any more just a finished work. No genre can name these books of Leonardo or Eminescu. All I can say is that more than in the opera, it’s about Leonardo himself, or Eminescu himself.
So what will we meet in the notebooks? Everything together. For example, at the beginning of the 2255 manuscript, we will see German notes and then notes about principium rationis sufficientis, then literary prose, then math exercises and philosophical thoughts again, with a judgment on Kantian antinomies.
And then … who knows if it is better / To be or not to be … but everyone knows. / That what is not, does not feel pain, / And many pains are but few pleasures./
To be? Madness and both sad and empty; / The ear lies to you and the eye deceives;/ What a century tells us the others denies. / Than a flat dream, better nothing.

But the party under delight of language is not all in the 2257 manuscript. The economist can also take part in the banquet. And not only the economist is served, but also the beekeeper, because on a few tabs is spoken on the bee’s birth is. The biologist and the chemist, with about 20 tabs on the living organism and some chapters of chemistry ; the historian with more than 20 tabs on „ideas to Machiavelli ; even the philologist with about 11 Greek words. For the last pages to talk about the immaterial substance in the universe.

After whot everithing was taken out from these notebooks, all that seemed like a work, as a sketch of work, as a variation, thoughts and sketches of thoughts, you found that all the notebooks remained intact. Not only has it not been deciphered yet, that it was possible to escape interesting thoughts and projects, that the eye of a great critic – like Calinescu – could read other things on the pages over which he had passed;

Our earth is poorer in geniuses than the universe in fixed stars. It is easier to create a new solar system in the vast valleys of chaos than a genius on earth.
But you find that everything that has been given to the printing has taken on an ordinary face, while the chaos in which the works and notations of all sorts are here, the writing of Eminescu, the joining of the unexpected situations and thoughts, everything makes the image the unusual way the pages of the manuscript give you, to exert a magic that, unlike Paul Valery’s notebooks, can not be lost.

Without Me, there is no time, there is no space, no God, no Eye is no light, no Hearing is no song – The eye is light, Hear is the song, I am God … My nation is the world; How without me is not God, so without my nation is not the world. What were the Romanians while I was not? What will they be, while I will not be? What a fading head without a zenith.
Faced with the leonard’s fantastic nature, Eminescu’s poetic or prose descriptions of other worlds, shattered, thrown in time, or with the time taken out of the woods, projected from the past to the present, when no end-of- beginning with the world, all have a fantastic character of spirit and culture rather than a naturalist.
On Tomorrow’s Sunday: 4 shirts, 2 collars, 4 pairs of jewels, 1 nightcloth, 1 pillow …
About the destiny of these manuscripts there has been a lot of ink flowing over the years. There are still inaccurate things about the route after 1883 of these manuscripts, when Eminescu was interned. Eminescu’s few things, including manuscripts and books, were taken by Simțion, an intimate friend of the poet. Then they went over to Chibici-Ravniceanu.

From Ober-Dobling (Vienna), Eminescu, worried, wrote to Chibici on January 12, 1884:
Beloved Chibici, what I want to know from you is if my books and my coffer are safe and if I can hope to see them again. … I do not have where I put my stuff, it would be good if you kept my so-called crate for some time, though I suppose this is not quite pleasant. Please, however, take the box from Simțion if it is no longer possible to stay there until my condition is correct, if it is possible to ever go.
The coffer with manuscripts and books will reach Maiorescu.
On November 20, 1887, his sister, Harieta, wrote to Cornelia Emilian: Eminescu lacks reading books, he wrote to Mr. Maiorescu to send his library, but so far he has received no answer. On February 27, 1888, again, Harieta writes to Cornelia Emilian: Eminescu is very upset about Mr. Maiorescu, that he wrote it recommended, praying him very warmly for his library and some manuscripts he would haunt. And no answer has been received so far. If I could, I would bring her books from Bucharest, but who knows what they are and is not wasted much.
Maiorescu gave no answer and kept them in his custody for almost 20 years. He donated them to the Academy on January 25, 1902, the inventory being: many manuscripts, part of the published poems, part trials, fragments and variants of published poems, part studies, translations and prose articles „, which he had from Mihai Eminescu. And it goes on: „All these manuscripts, as they are: cartons, sewn notebooks, and flyers, I send them together and give them to the Romanian Academy to serve those who will be in the future with more in-depth research on the life and activity of our great poet. „

I love this good, gentle, human people, on whose backs the diplomats are carving out the charters and the wars, they are painting kingdoms about whom does not even pass through.
The Eminescian treasury kept at the Academy Library is now up to 15,000 pages, out of letters and archival documents. They were retained as they were submitted by Maiorescu, except for the notebooks, which were not related and which received the respective cartons.
How many flowers are on the ground, all go to vow …
Some of the notebooks, especially Rhime Dictionaries, less researched and less used, still retain original links today. The idea of preserving these manuscripts appeared since the 1930s, because Nicolae Iorga wrote that „No Eminescu line must remain unpublished”.
– But time? But the time ..
– Oh, that damned time, that’s when it’s long, short, but it’s the same, at least the remontorium says it … When someone’s waiting at the gate of some sweetie his sweetheart … and she’s not coming. and waiting … and she still does not come … what’s the time? An eternity. And when someone reads a beautiful book … thousands of paintings unfold before the eyes … what’s the time? One minute. Who has never had a whole novel in mind, whose normal reality would be a whole life or a whole youth? … in his dream he can have one man’s whole life in one night. And why of a man? Why not all those who turn around him? And how long? Seven eight times. But what’s a tragedy or something else? And, indeed, if such an interest is concerned, you do not even squeeze as long as it has passed. To take the criterion of normality, to wipe out all the esclusiveness of a conventional and flattering possibility and to place another equally right in the home. Then let’s just say: this is only possible and only possible, but we say: As soon as our head reaches, it is … but the hell knows if it could not be a thousand times different …

But it seems to me that where there is a problem is at same time its solution. Kant. Most people, however, ask questions, sometimes comical, sometimes unruly, sometimes full of meaning, sometimes deserted.
Then Constantine Noica pleaded for the publication of these manuscripts, elaborating in 1968 a manifesto: Make the Eminescu manuscripts faint! The dream of philosopher Constantine Noica was not possible in the 1970s. Presented on October 2, 1984 in Botoșani and Ipoteşti, Noica raises the issue of facsimilation of Eminescu’s manuscripts, leaving to Ipoteşti 11 Eminescu worksheets for facsimile. Noica speaks of „a miracle” (the existence of notebooks) and the new miracle that should occur: meeting the 14,000 pages with the spirit of younger generations. He thinks it is a national obligation to provoke this meeting and awaits a lot of it. He has an example: publishing the 29 notebooks of Valéry. He consulted a few volumes and, if he had any skepticism about it, he heals: facsimilation can be done. Hard work is being done to copy the manuscripts from microfilms at the Academy Library.
Until December 7, 1986, all the films from the Academy Library had been copied, being photographed, according to the original films, all the manuscripts on the film, leaving the missing pages filled up and the whole material multiplied. On April 1, 1987, the first notebooks were given, and on October 1, 1987 Noica returned to Botosani and saw the 31 photographed Eminescu worksheets, of which 16 were already copied in 3 copies. Every man is a question put back to the spirit of the universe.
The martyr, the hero and the wise are forms of one and the same substance: the truth.
At the 155th anniversary of Eminescu’s death, the Romanian Academy launched the first volume of the famous facsimile manuscripts by Mihai Eminescu. On January 15, 2006 volumes II – VI were launched, and on January 15, 2008, a further 12 volumes were released from the facsimile edition of the Eminescu manuscripts. They numbered almost 2,600 pages. In 2009, the editing of all eminescian facsimile manuscripts will be finalized.

The word comes from Conventus, a gathering of people, says Eminescu. How many still know it? How many are looking for their ultimate truth, their community beings, how many love their word and search for it?
Most scholars who have used them have taken research only those interested: prose or poetry manuscripts, those with historical, economic, philosophical or scientific notes. The whole was not interested because it did not seem to be a whole. Undoubtedly, it is not the whole of a work, not even of a destiny; but it’s the whole of a culture consciousness.
Eminescu’s notebooks can not be crossed entirely, with the feeling that you are in front of the full man of Romanian culture.
These notebooks are a kind of diary of Mihai Eminescu’s life. But a very special diary, which no one has ever done, and which we no longer meet in the universal literature, because here we find Eminescu’s creation, we find his thoughts, we find his everyday life, with its good and bad parts, with its responsibilities. We find the most beautiful thoughts that a Romanian has ever had. Like the most beautiful lyrics. The fact that Mihai Eminescu studied in Vienna at that time a kind of healthy positivism, which reigned in philosophy, studied history as well as mathematics, astronomy, economics. Medicine is also studied. And we find Eminescu in notebooks scribbles from all these domains. And what is interesting, besides the fact that he transcribed many works, bigger or smaller, because at that time there were no other means of multiplication, but on each occasion he had his own notes. So his own thoughts about what he was reading. And interesting is the fact, especially in connection with the writings of history and psychology – at that time the peoples’ psychology was fashionable – and each time Eminescu read a paper, he said: „That is also the Romanians. And this in Romanian has the same meaning, that is. Such events also took place in the history of the Romanians. „So he constantly referred to the Romanians, to the Romanians’ history and to our culture.

No more delight as moving once / Stories and lyrics, riddles, heresies, / Brightening my childhood forehead was, / Hardly understood, but full of meanings – / Vainly your shadows now surround me, / O, hour of the mystery, o, sunset even.
To pluck a sound from past of life, / To do it, soul, to tremble again / With my hand în vain I glide on lyre ;
Lost it all in the horizon of youth / And moves its sweet mouth of other times, / And time grows behind me … / I get dark!

Translated by George Anca

Maria do Sameiro Barosso: Recoltă

                                             Vincent van Gogh

 

Recoltă

Eu voi veni pe alte uși,
cu bolduri de lumină,
iar roua zorilor de zi,
prin roze și marină spumă va licări.
Prima silabă-n noaptea mută
o voi rosti tot eu
printre umbre și îngeri bleu.
Astfel a mea viață se va vedea-n adins
ca o scânteie sau o clipă,
un creștet nins
sau întuneric greu,
un pește mic în eleșteu.
Înot înconjurat de o mireasmă
de dulce și vechi vin înnobilat
dintr-o recoltă aurie.

Maria do Sameiro Barosso, Portugal

Traducere: Germain Droogenbroodt și Gabriela Căluțiu Sonnenberg

Dunia PĂLĂNGEANU: Invitație – Poeme la Balcic

Poeta Dunia Pălăngeanu, artistul plastic Petra Tănase Șerbănescu și invitații lor vă invită la o călătoria spirituală în Balcicul boem și romantic...poezie, artă vizuală, muzică, vineri 15 martie 2019, ora 12.00, la Biblioteca jud. I.A.Bassarabescu, Sos București, nr .53.

 

Tărâmul visat

 

Binecuvântate locuri,
clipele frumoase de altă dată
au rămas păstrate în parfumul
florilor maiestuase de magnolii
și în umbra dulce a minaretului,
de unde privirile mândre ale Reginei
îmbrățișau lacome depărtările,
albastrul necuprins al mării
țărmul alb și neliniștit…
Urc treptele de piatră arse de soare
în ritmul generos al inimii-
căprioară speriată de talazul supus,
răscolind înserările.
Trecătorule,dacă vrei să asculți
ornicul nemilos al Anotimpului
cum își cerne orele,clipele,
în clepsidra plină de astre,
aici, la Balcic, e tărâmul visat.

 

Дуня Паланджеану

Царството на мечтите

 

Благословени кътчета,
красиви мигове отминали,
попили в аромата на цветята
в дъха на превъзходните магнолии,
в изчистения силует на минарето,
отгдето погледът на гордата кралица
обгръщаше далечината жадно,
безкрайните лазури на морето
и белотата на разбунения бряг…
Изкачвам каменните стълби, нажежени
на слънце, а сърцето ми бие отсечено –
изплашена сърна от хладния бриз
на талази прииждащ привечер…

 

Пътнико, ако искаш да усетиш
неумолимата присъда на сезона,
как преобръща часовете, миговете
в пясъчен часовник, пълен със звезди,
царството на мечтите е тук, във Балчик!

Превод от румънски – Надежда Радева

—————————————————–

Dunia PĂLĂNGEANU

Traducere din limba română: Nadezhda Radeva