IOANA IERONIM

Fragments


we must have met before, Miss,
do you remember where it might have been?

I do not think so – – but yes, o yes
we may have been those cool stones
set side by side on velvet
in Alladin’s cave

… or two horses galloping in the wind
on the continent of Gondwana

yet I remember, I think I do
it was in London one evening
or was it Bucharest still, Washington, Paris,
Vienna, Prague, Barcelona, Istanbul
Galway, New York?
it was cloudy as I recall
and a big merry crowd indoors

no-no, you may still keep in mind
that nest of hidden embers -
we had been lost from our caravans,
it was at sunset
shadows were growing hungry tongues and…

I rather believe that we had been up early
it was the day of departure -
our hair was glistening
like dew-laden cobwebs in a vineyard,
ripening and golden

do you mean, when we had not yet been
thrown down from the Garden?

no
listen, now I think I really know
we were two miraculous serpents
chasing at one another
joyous in the world’s first ocean
the sun was melting in the water
at high noon
God Himself stood speechless
with the beauty of their motion

let me tell you, it must have been when we read
“I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I
Did, till…” - could you imagine such
mandatory reading?

yeah, in such a place, at such time…

on that day, as you may recall, our hearts were smitten
and then of course we forgot

I say, Miss, we must have met before

you know, these things…

*

She treads barefoot over the Threshold
and comes back
once and again.
She smoothes a path for me to remember

She tells me: "it’s just hide-and-seek
we’re pretending, as we did long ago
when we used to wait for Santa once a year
and for dad to come back from the prisoner camp,
you know"
“The Danube Canal…”
"Yes, remember, every day for so many years."

I’m looking at her small hands that used to play Czerny and Bach
and were held captive and entranced in numberless books
and they healed so many beloved and strangers
and raised beautiful kids

she, who has never lost her own kind of marveling
marvelous eyes.

"Neither is this for good now", she says
"we just leave the door half-open when we go."

From her darkening room
we can see the garden melting in radiant sun
this year's Indian summer

black ripe grapes hang around her window panes,
she wonders whether anyone will be able
to cover the vine against the frost - after

she tries to explain again how that should be done

then she says to me: "hey traveler
you have always returned, maybe
you've never been truly
away

do not forget to spread crumbs of love behind you
now when you leave,
thus we may find our way back
even from that
far”

…

it is then that you put your hands over my face
for a moment
then you let go
you who know about these things

do not avert your eyes, you said,
in the light
decreasing

in the light’s
intense
wakeful
clarity

Liliana Stefan

Ioana Ieronim
 

Fragmente

ne cunoastem de undeva, domnisoara,
va mai amintiti ?

n-as prea crede. Sau da, ba da
eram in pestera lui Ali Baba
doua pietre reci
stand alaturi pe catifea

... sau doi cai gonind in vant
pe continentul Gondwanei

si totusi imi aduc aminte, cred
era la Londra intr-o seara
sau era Bucuresti ? Washington, Paris,
Viena, Praga, Barcelona, Istanbul
Galway, New York ?
era innourat parca
si o multime vesela inauntru

nu, nu, poate n-ai uitat
cuibul de taciuni ascunsi -
ne pierdusem de convoi
era in asfintit
umbrele cresteau infometate si ...

ba cred ca ne trezisem devreme
- era ziua plecarii -
parul ne stralucea
ca paienjenisul incarcat cu roua
din via coapta si aurie

vrei sa spui cand nu fuseseram inca
izgoniti din Gradina ?

nu
asculta, acum cred ca stiu
eram doi serpi miraculosi
ce se urmareau fericiti unul pe celalalt
in oceanul primordial
- soarele se topea in ape
din inalt
Dumnezeu Insusi era mut
in fata frumusetii lor

stai sa-ti spun, asta a fost cand citeam
„Ma intreb, pe cuvant, ce naiba am facut noi, tu si eu,
pana sa ne iubim ?” - iti inchipui
asa lectura obligatorie ?

da, acolo, atunci ...

in ziua aceea, cum poate-ti amintesti, eram atat de indragostiti
pe urma desigur ca am uitat

cum ziceam, domnisoara, ne cunoastem de undeva

stii cum e…

*

Paseste desculta peste Prag

si se-ntoarce
iar si iar.
Netezeste drumul ca sa-mi amintesc

Imi spune: „doar ne jucam de-a v-ati ascunselea
ne prefacem numai, cum faceam acum mult timp
cand il asteptam pe Mosul o data pe an
si pe tata sa se intoarca de la Canalul Dunarii.”
„Da, adu-ti aminte, an de an.”

Ma uit la mainile ei mici ce au cantat din Czerny si Bach
si au fost captive in vraja atator carti
si au vindecat atatia oameni dragi si straini
si au crescut copii frumosi

ea, care nu si-a pierdut nicidata mirarea
din ochii mari

„Nu e pentru totdeauna”, zise ea
„lasam usa intredeschisa cand plecam.”

Din camea ei intunecoasa
vedem gradina topindu-se sub soarele stralucitor
- vara indiana

stuguri copti si negri ii atarna la geam,
se intreaba daca va putea cineva
sa apere via de inghet - dupa

incearca sa explice din nou cum trebuie facut

apoi imi spune: „hei, calatorule
mereu te-ai intors si poate
nu ai plecat
niciodata

nu uita sa lasi farame de iubire in urma ta
acum ca pleci,
ca sa gasim drumul inapoi
chiar si
de acolo”

...

imi acoperi fata cu mainile tale
pentru o clipa
apoi ma eliberezi
- tu care cunosti aceste lucruri

nu-ti intoarce privirea, mi-ai zis,
din lumina
ce se stinge

spre luciditatea
ce vegheaza
in lumina
intensa