SIMONA GRAZIA DIMA

Intelegere

Ia ma de la pamant,
dezveleste mi fata de scorpion inlacrimat,
deschide mi palma cu imprimeuri luminoase, mortale,
spune, daca poti, cine si a trait aici in tacere destinul.
Hanul mongol, pe tronul cu pietre inverse,
nu va scoate o vorba.
Imobil, cel tarat prin praf te va urmari din ochi.
Iluzia mortii. Puterea, totusi, n a pierit.
Tarziu, va izbucni un strigat. Din el,
plamada intelegerii, izbind.

Eliza Pintilie

Simona Grazia Dima
 

Understanding

Raise me up,
unveil my face of weeping scorpion,
open my palm with bright and lethal prints,
tell me, if you can, who lived their fate here, in silence.
The Mongol khan, on his throne of reversed stones,
will say nothing.
Standing still, the one dragged through the dust shall watch you.
The illusion of death. The power, however, has not perished yet.
Later, a cry will be heard. From this,
the seed of knowledge will spring.