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.

Ramona Zamfirescu

Ruth O’Callaghan

Cronica

...In unele zile, un plescait de vasle
sparge luciul apei

si un val mic se indreapta spre noi
pierzandu-se in cercuri tot mai vagi

la fel ca istoria, candva atat de clara,
care devine din ce in ce mai schimbatoare

sub invelisurile timpului, al povestilor spuse
si ras-spuse, soapte in chineza

care plutesc in aer si descriu noi dinastii,
imperii, arta cartografilor

nascuta pe terenurile de joaca unde copiii isi incearca
creioanele rosii si albastre desenand triunghiuri, patrate,

in carti de colorat ieftine,
atat de preocupati de aceasta sarcina a lor

incat vaslasul
- l-ati uitat?-
-
trece neobservat, in timp ce in departare,
acolo unde salciile matura apa

iar umbrele copacilor raman nemiscate,
aburi de ceata se desfac

precum manecile vanzatoarelor
la ceasul inserarii.