Ruth O’Callaghan

Chronicle

...On some days a plash of oars
breaks the sleek of water

and a ripple will rim towards us
eddying outwards in ever fainter circles

as history, once so delineated,
pales into uncertainty

under layers of time, of stories, told,
re-told, Chinese whispers

that hang in the air, re-defining dynasties,
empires, the cartographers’ art

begun in playgrounds where children edge
blues and reds, making squares triangles

in cheap colouring books,
so occupied with such small tasks

that the unseen oarsman
—had you forgotten him?—

rounds the bend while beyond,
where willows sweep the water

and shadows under trees remain motionless,
hanks of mist unravel

like sleeves of shop girls reaching out
in the narrowing of the day.

Simona Elisabeta Catana

Ruth O’Callaghan

Cronica

...In unele zile o improscatura de vasle
distruge netezimea apei

si un valurel se va indrepta spre noi
involburandu-se in cercuri din ce in ce mai slabe

precum istoria, candva bine definita,
ajunge sub semnul incertitudinii

sub straturi de timp, de povesti, spuse,
respuse, soapte chinezesti

care atarna in aer, redefinind dinastii,
imperii, arta cartografilor

cu inceputuri pe terenuri de joaca unde copii incadreaza
albastru si rosu, facand patrate triunghiuri

in carti de colorat ieftine,
atat de preocupati de aceste sarcini minore

incat vaslasul nevazut
– il uitasesi? –

isi pierde cumpatul dincolo,
unde salciile matura apa

si umbrele de sub pomi raman nemiscate,
petice de ceata se desfac

precum manecile vanzatoarelor care ajung
in marginirea zilei.