translation from Romanian by Barbara Dordi & Anca B\u0103l\u0103\u015foiu [MTTLC student]<\/p>\n
Since he felt he was a waste of flesh<\/strong><\/p>\n Since he felt he was a waste of flesh<\/p>\n he paid for his euthanasia and set the finale. <\/p>\n Since he knew there were people who needed he donated his liver, eyes, heart, lung and kidneys, Since they were grateful to him, all six of them reserved a table at the restaurant, And when they clinked their glasses,<\/p>\n they felt him amongst them,<\/p>\n smiling.<\/p>\n Does dad enjoy it<\/strong><\/p>\n Does my dad enjoy it <\/p>\n when I sometimes end up asking him his heart !because he is practicing usury! with a 15% interest making my blood sting in my veins when I pay to get them back<\/p>\n that\u2019s my father but dad is smart will take after him \ud83d\ude42 <\/p>\n Wanda<\/strong><\/p>\n I am getting close to the age when I should be married, while she is not yet a memory<\/p>\n [* Faces (Chipurile)<\/em> is the title of the author\u2019s first book of poems]<\/p>\n All my life I have been chasing a green horse<\/strong><\/p>\n As early as when I was in diapers I would hear it trotting or neighing Now that I am old, and I realise A sort of sonnet<\/strong><\/p>\n \t\t\tTo Ana D.<\/em><\/p>\n When I broke up with Raisa<\/p>\n a world collapsed inside of me<\/p>\n and another (\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026)<\/p>\n When I broke up with Raisa<\/p>\n I broke up with much more<\/p>\n much just like when you lose your money for electricity Because that\u2019s how I felt (\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026)<\/p>\n It was as if I was stepping into a forgotten world in time<\/p>\n a world with strange manners (\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026)<\/p>\n There was grass there Nothing made any sense there<\/p>\n (\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026)<\/p>\n That is where I met you and that world (\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026)<\/p>\n And still I think I want more<\/p>\n (\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026)<\/p>\n What if you were the one to turn the light on something by your side versiunile originale ale acestor poeme pot fi citite<\/a> \u00een EgoPHobia #24<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" translation from Romanian by Barbara Dordi & Anca B\u0103l\u0103\u015foiu [MTTLC student] Since he felt he was a waste of flesh Since he felt he was a waste of flesh he paid for his euthanasia and set the finale. Since he knew there were people who needed his insides to go on<\/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":[585,77],"tags":[599,598,1149,1123,403,385,312],"class_list":["post-4986","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-egophobia-27","category-english","tag-anca-balasoiu","tag-barbara-dordi","tag-egophobia-27","tag-english","tag-mttlc","tag-stoian-g-bogdan","tag-translation"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6DakB-1iq","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4986","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=4986"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4986\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4988,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4986\/revisions\/4988"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4986"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4986"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4986"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nhis insides to go on \t<\/p>\n
\nand those people lived on.<\/p>\n
\nand since otherwise they would have joined him in the graveyard,<\/p>\n
\nto drink and eat in his honour.<\/p>\n
\nto lend me money<\/p>\n
\nhis face
\nand wallet all grin
\nwhen he takes out his card and inserts it in the ATM<\/p>\n
\nand he withdraws tens of thousands
\nuntil he manages to regenerate the wounds in my budget<\/p>\n
\nand a real estate, vehicle, blank promissory note
\nas a guarantee<\/p>\n
\nalways reminding me to stay away from bastards
\nalways reminding me that we are a family
\nbut when it comes to money
\nit\u2019s as if we didn\u2019t know each other
\nthat\u2019s always the case when I end up where he wants me<\/p>\n
\nand knows that I know all too well
\nthat I<\/p>\n
\nhave children and less and less poems like this\u2026
\nFucking hell, I am getting old! And the few years I have left
\nare not even enough to finish living my teenage years.
\nBut Wanda\u2026 ah, Wanda! she twists my thoughts into a knot when I watch her
\nwith the string of her panties between my cerebral hemispheres
\nletting her nipples drip on my Faces<\/em>*,
\non milky white sheets\u2026 In the morning she talks with a Banatian accent.
\nIn the afternoon she throws her textbooks all over the bed. And in the evening,
\nin the evening she has a lisp. It is strange how this chick offers me a sort of comfort
\nand trust that neither money, nor glory, nor power
\nhave ever managed to give me. When she holds me tight in her arms, I feel
\nlike a tornado is embracing me. When she kisses me, my soul goes
\nto heaven. When we make love\u2026 that\u2019s purely our business.
\nThis high school kid, with a little heart of a tush,
\nwith firm breasts out of which I suck only delight, with skin the colour of
\nsour cherry jam, makes my life
\ngreyer and my poetry glossier\u2026<\/em> now<\/p>\n
\non the grey walls of my childhood.
\nIt was only when I was four that it really showed itself to me
\nafter crying
\nover a bowl my mother had thrown
\nin front of me. He glowed in the dark, like the eyes of a beast in the night and
\neach time I would reach out to touch it,
\nit would vanish in lime, or maybe it only ran away
\nwhere my sight did not dare go anymore.
\nLater on, when I finally managed to use my fists to get
\nthrough the wooden door of that room
\nand enter the world, I had no one anymore.
\nHowever, the horse showed itself to me again
\ngreener than any red seen by a colour-blind person.
\nIt had been gone for countless years \u2013 years of loneliness, of unfulfilled wishes,
\nof hate \u2013 when I became a man as black
\nas the blood in my veins. I was something of a dog
\nready to rip and tear anything that came in its sight.
\nI heard its wooden plank walk, closing in, from somewhere behind,
\nfrom a wall I was leaning against, deep in thought \u2013
\nand when I turned around, for a moment I thought
\nit would jump out and crush me with its hooves.
\nIt raised on its hind legs and a large piece of plaster
\ncame loose and broke hitting the asphalt. I then tried to mount it
\nbut it took off as if whipped. I followed it all the way to Bucharest
\non every wall that came in my way. There, out of breath,
\nI stopped on the steps of the faculty of law and I stayed there
\nfor five years, thinking that, in a moment of unawareness,
\nI would manage to throw my saddle on its back. All I managed though
\nwas to become a lawyer. I immediately fell in love
\nwith a woman who dreamt of giving her virginity away to a knight
\non a white horse. I then begged my green horse
\nfor three days and three nights to take me to her arms, telling it that
\nno one can have the right person by their side,
\nbut they can make them right; then again, I was no knight,
\nbut I was a good lawyer
\nand it was not a white horse, but at least it was a bright green one.
\nI did not manage to succeed this time either. So I got a 300 horse power
\nBMW and won her over.
\nI did not make it by her side for too long. I left her behind,
\nwith two small children and a mountain of debt,
\nchasing my green horse,
\nto the place where I was to ruin my life.<\/p>\n
\nI have been chasing a green horse all my life,
\nI imagine that precisely at the moment of death
\nit will let me ride it
\nand carry me beyond death<\/p>\n
\nover me<\/p>\n
\nmuch more<\/p>\n
\nand you\u2019re actually left in the dark
\nwith no Internet access and no telephone battery<\/p>\n
\nno light, no access, no battery<\/p>\n
\nsomewhere way back<\/p>\n
\nwith joyless events
\nwith strange places with unknown faces
\nwith new and meaningless roads<\/p>\n
\nthat always brought me back to the moment
\nwhen I lost her<\/p>\n
\nand a scab began to grow
\nover the void left by her absence<\/p>\n
\nthat had began to flicker
\nlike a small light bulb when the electricity is back on<\/p>\n
\nand give me access
\nto something<\/p>\n
\n#<\/p>\n