{"id":12488,"date":"2019-02-28T13:19:50","date_gmt":"2019-02-28T11:19:50","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/egophobia.ro\/?p=12488"},"modified":"2019-02-28T13:21:07","modified_gmt":"2019-02-28T11:21:07","slug":"poeme-de-fred-daguiar-3","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/?p=12488","title":{"rendered":"poeme de Fred D\u2019Aguiar"},"content":{"rendered":"

(egoRainbow)<\/span><\/p>\n

traducere & prezentare: Monica Manolachi<\/p>\n

Fred D\u2019Aguiar s-a n\u0103scut \u00een Londra \u00een 1960 \u00eentr-o familie guyanez\u0103, \u0219i-a petrecut copil\u0103ria \u00een Guyana \u0219i s-a \u00eentors \u00een Marea Britanie \u00een adolescen\u021b\u0103. \u00cenainte de a urma studii africane \u0219i caraibe la Universitatea din Kent, \u00een Canterbury, s-a specializat ca asistent medical de psihiatrie. Volumul s\u0103u de debut,\u00a0Mama Dot<\/em>\u00a0(1985), reflect\u0103 cu nostalgie via\u021ba \u0219i obiceiurile din Guyana prin intermediul unui personaj feminin exemplar. Cu volumul\u00a0Airy Hall<\/em>\u00a0(1989), dedicat satului unde a fost crescut de bunici, D\u2019Aguiar a primit premiul na\u021bional pentru literatur\u0103 \u00een Guyana.\u00a0British Subjects<\/em> (1993) abordeaz\u0103 problematica migra\u021biei \u0219i a multiculturalismului prin prisma interioriz\u0103rii conflictelor sociale \u0219i a memoriei personale racordate la cea colectiv\u0103.\u00a0Bill of Rights<\/em>\u00a0(1998), un volum despre trauma transcultural\u0103 produs\u0103 de masacrul din Jonestown (Guyana) din 1978, a fost nominalizat pentru premiul T. S. Eliot. Poemul narativ Bloodlines <\/em>(2000) trateaz\u0103 despre dragostea dintre o sclav\u0103 \u0219i fiul unui proprietar de planta\u021bie din sudul Statelor Unite ale Americii. Fred D\u2019Aguiar este \u0219i autor de romane \u0219i piese de teatru cu tematic\u0103 postcolonial\u0103. De pild\u0103, romanul Feeding the Ghosts<\/em>\u00a0(1997) are la baz\u0103 istoria unui b\u0103iat care a supravie\u021buit unui transport de sclavi transatlantic, c\u00e2nd a fost aruncat peste bord \u00eempreun\u0103 cu al\u021bi 132 de oameni. \u00cen prezent, D\u2019Aguiar este profesor de englez\u0103 \u0219i director al programului de scriere creativ\u0103 la Universitatea din California, \u00een Los Angeles.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

Biroul de obiecte pierdute<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u00cen diminea\u021ba aceasta sunt<\/p>\n

mai pu\u021bin dec\u00e2t eram asear\u0103.<\/p>\n

M-am dat jos din patul ce purta<\/p>\n

numele meu, am aprins o lumin\u0103<\/p>\n

care nu m-a recunoscut,<\/p>\n

m-am uitat \u00een oglind\u0103 \u0219i am v\u0103zut<\/p>\n

cum parc\u0103 tr\u0103iam via\u021ba<\/p>\n

altcuiva, am \u00eencercat s\u0103 urc<\/p>\n

\u00eenapoi \u00een pat, dar l-am g\u0103sit ocupat<\/p>\n

de acela care dormea \u00een el<\/p>\n

asear\u0103 \u0219i dormea \u00eenc\u0103<\/p>\n

dus, cu o expresie pe chip<\/p>\n

mai senin\u0103 dec\u00e2t a mea.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

M-am a\u0219ezat la un birou ciudat,<\/p>\n

unde genunchii nu \u00eenc\u0103peau<\/p>\n

\u00een spa\u021biul de dedesubt,<\/p>\n

\u021bineam un pix pe care st\u00e2ngaciul<\/p>\n

de mine \u00eel folosea ca pe foarfece sau<\/p>\n

desf\u0103c\u0103tor de conserve \u00eentr-o lume<\/p>\n

nu tocmai pe gustul meu.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Autobiografia unui jad <\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

Am z\u0103cut un mileniu \u00eentr-o albie \u00eenghe\u021bat\u0103,<\/p>\n

p\u00e2n\u0103 c\u00e2nd gravita\u021bia a lansat ciocanul tainic<\/p>\n

\u0219i a eliberat un r\u00e2u pentru o matc\u0103 a mea.<\/p>\n

Curen\u021bii m-au purtat la vale \u2013<\/p>\n

un trafic \u00eentr-o singur\u0103 direc\u021bie.<\/p>\n

M-am f\u0103cut mic \u0219i mi-am format obiceiuri.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

R\u00e2ul a curs \u0219i a erodat \u0219i s-a uscat.<\/p>\n

Pe urm\u0103 am fost spart \u00een dou\u0103 de un om str\u0103in<\/p>\n

care mi-a vrut inima, un miez luminos,<\/p>\n

pentru iubita lui. A aruncat cele dou\u0103 jum\u0103t\u0103\u021bi<\/p>\n

pe un munte cu alte asemenea buc\u0103\u021bi,<\/p>\n

p\u00e2n\u0103 c\u00e2nd m-a \u00eenv\u0103luit m\u00e2na unui copil,<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

c\u00e2te o bucat\u0103 \u00een fiecare palm\u0103,<\/p>\n

apoi m-a unit \u00een buzunarul din partea dreapt\u0103,<\/p>\n

\u00eentr-un loc \u00eentunecat \u0219i cald, l\u00e2ng\u0103 coaps\u0103.<\/p>\n

Pe urm\u0103 a fost borcanul de pe care cineva s-a str\u0103duit<\/p>\n

s\u0103 scoat\u0103 eticheta, a\u0219ezat pe raftul \u0219emineului unde<\/p>\n

am v\u0103zut dragostea de la miezul nop\u021bii \u0219i dispari\u021bia ei.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Am sim\u021bit briza lacului \u2013 rezerva de ap\u0103 a ora\u0219ului \u2013<\/p>\n

\u00eenainte ca el s\u0103 m\u0103 ia, mai \u00eent\u00e2i partea st\u00e2ng\u0103,<\/p>\n

\u0219i s\u0103 se \u00eencline un pic spre st\u00e2nga \u0219i s\u0103 m\u0103 arunce<\/p>\n

cu pra\u0219tia um\u0103rului s\u0103u larg.<\/p>\n

Am s\u0103rit pe suprafa\u021ba acelui lac tremurat,<\/p>\n

ca \u0219i cum chiar mi-a\u0219 fi dorit s\u0103 ajung dincolo.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Am vrut s\u0103 ajung \u00een mijloc, \u00een partea aceea<\/p>\n

unde apa prinde r\u0103d\u0103cini ad\u00e2nci \u0219i e foarte calm\u0103.<\/p>\n

L-am auzit chiuind c\u00e2nd a strigat num\u0103rul de s\u0103rituri.<\/p>\n

M-am oprit \u0219i am a\u0219teptat cealalt\u0103 jum\u0103tate.<\/p>\n

M-a luat \u00een palm\u0103 \u0219i m-a aruncat din nou, a num\u0103rat<\/p>\n

\u0219i a exclamat strig\u00e2nd exact acela\u0219i num\u0103r<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

ca mai devreme: mersul meu pe v\u00e2rfuri,<\/p>\n

balerina din mine, eu \u00een elementul meu,<\/p>\n

semnul meu, big bangul meu invers, mai mult aer<\/p>\n

dec\u00e2t piatr\u0103 \u00een acele momente,<\/p>\n

pe obrajii aceia cu gropi\u021be a c\u0103ror indiferen\u021b\u0103<\/p>\n

m-a scos din to\u021bi pepenii.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Am alunecat \u00eempreun\u0103 aproape la fel de clar<\/p>\n

cum ne desf\u0103cusem. Tot ce mai aveam nevoie acum<\/p>\n

era inima care mi se furase. M-am rugat ca<\/p>\n

iubita \u00een m\u00e2inile c\u0103reia se afla s\u0103-\u0219i fac\u0103 drum<\/p>\n

spre acest lac, s\u0103 v\u00e2sleasc\u0103 p\u00e2n\u0103 spre centrul s\u0103u,<\/p>\n

s\u0103 se scufunde pe deasupra mea.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Ultimul sonet despre sclavie<\/strong><\/p>\n

(Dup\u0103 Hogarth)<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Pune-\u021bi m\u00e2na pe um\u0103rul meu, st\u0103p\u00e2na mea.<\/p>\n

M\u00e2ini at\u00e2t de ginga\u0219e n-ar trebui s\u0103 pluteasc\u0103 prin aer,<\/p>\n

ci s\u0103 descopere locuri vaste unde s\u0103-\u0219i g\u0103seasc\u0103 odihna.<\/p>\n

\u0218i fiindc\u0103 umerii, capul \u0219i p\u0103rul ce \u00eel \u00eempodobe\u0219te<\/p>\n

\u00ee\u021bi apar\u021bin cu totul, fie ca m\u00e2inile acelea<\/p>\n

s\u0103-\u0219i afle tihna oriunde pe mine, ci nu le l\u0103sa<\/p>\n

la voia \u00eent\u00e2mpl\u0103rii, s\u0103 nu fie inerte \u0219i nici<\/p>\n

s\u0103 nu apar\u0103 ca \u0219i cum nu ar avea un scop m\u0103re\u021b.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

M\u00e2inile care nu cunosc peria de cur\u0103\u021bat<\/p>\n

\u0219i nici greutatea lucrurilor \u2013 poate doar l\u0103n\u021bi\u0219orul<\/p>\n

sau rochia, ciorapii ori sarafanul pe care le aranjeaz\u0103 \u2013<\/p>\n

nici nu sunt m\u00e2ini, ci fluturi \u00een les\u0103.<\/p>\n

S\u0103 fluture, s\u0103 se repead\u0103, dac\u0103 trebuie, dar, te rog,<\/p>\n

c\u00e2nd se lini\u0219tesc, s\u0103 m\u0103 fericeasc\u0103 pe mine.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

(egoRainbow) traducere & prezentare: Monica Manolachi Fred D\u2019Aguiar s-a n\u0103scut \u00een Londra \u00een 1960 \u00eentr-o familie guyanez\u0103, \u0219i-a petrecut copil\u0103ria \u00een Guyana \u0219i s-a \u00eentors \u00een Marea Britanie \u00een adolescen\u021b\u0103. \u00cenainte de a urma studii africane \u0219i caraibe la Universitatea din Kent, \u00een Canterbury, s-a specializat ca asistent medical de psihiatrie. Volumul s\u0103u de debut,\u00a0Mama […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1369,952,13],"tags":[1370,1162,885,807,1114,72],"class_list":["post-12488","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-egophobia-57","category-egorainbow","category-poezie","tag-egophobia-57","tag-egorainbow","tag-fred-daguiar","tag-monica-manolachi","tag-poezie","tag-traducere"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6DakB-3fq","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12488","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=12488"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12488\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12491,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12488\/revisions\/12491"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=12488"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=12488"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=12488"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}