Poems by Ana Blandiana
White upon White
(Alb pe alb)
I write
White upon white,
Although I know that no one
Will be able to read this,
Not even me
After I will have forgotten what I wrote.
The good it’s always
Hard to understand –
It’s easier to accept a heresy
In paradise
Than a voluntary human sacrifice.
I’m stubborn
To write white upon white
Although they tell me
To use at least
Glaring letters,
When I draw olive branches
Or boring good
Deeds.
But,
now and here
I have only one color
Which is able
To include them all
And I write,
In vain,
White upon white.
Heretical
(Eretic)
Heretical,
That is, rather than the truths,
Much more their undulating
And vainglorious human appearances,
Not acknowledging even to the gods
A greater fame
Than an amazing
Resemblance
With us –
Thus it was for me
The last wit:
More fearful of immortality
Than of death.
In a Wound
(Într-o rană)
We live in a wound
Without knowing
Whose is the wounded body,
And not even why.
The only assurace is the pain
That surrounds us,
The hurt
Whereon our presence
Taint her
When it tries to cure.
Different Languages
(Limbi diferite)
His loneliness gave birth to us,
His loneliness created the world,
To bring us into the world
Beside him,
To have someone to talk to.
I knew we were made up
And we exist
To be able to answer him,
But I didn’t know
– And neither He the omniscient
did not foresee –
That we speak different languages.
Similarity
(Asemănare)
At first
It seemed like an insult
The very idea of likeness,
Then,
Little by little,
I felt disgusted
And my pride melted away
Like a wax
Awaiting the seal.
Now
I would like to resemble someone
Or someone to look like me,
But also before,
And after
Figure One
It’s dark.
Traducere în limba engleză de Ioan Radu Văcărescu
