SIMONA GRAZIA DIMA

Armura de foc

De foc ne temeam, in foc ne am pierdut neputinta.
Mereu atenti – ne intrebam la ce: la flacara,
la nava incendiara (dar ne sfiam sa spunem),
la flama care ne putea rapi oricand,
de orisiunde. Cu potirul in maini, stiam
ca putea s apara un phoenix, sa i sarim in spinare.
Arsi, sa fim cavalerii invincibili. Dintru nceput,
nu exista armura. Ca din ceata i apar vinele,
cum se schiteaza aripa de inger in fata rugatorului.
Si abia dupa incendiu incepe dogoarea amiezii,
arderea dupa ardere. Parjolul vesel, arsura fericita,
hohotul flacarii. Pe vechiul vulcan, copiii afla
anemone albastre. Strigand, ei calca pe copca
sub care clipesc, glumete, dar treze, vapaile.

Iulia Anchidin

Simona Grazia Dima
 

Armour of fire

Of fire we were afraid, in fire we lost our impotency.
Always paying attention to- to what we wonder: to the flame,
to the purple ship (but we are too timid to say),
to the flame that could kidnap us anytime,
from anywhere. With the calyx in our hands, we knew
that a phoenix could appear, to jump to his back.
Burnt, to be the invincible knights. From the beginning,
there is no armour. As out of the fog his veins appear,
the same an angel’s wing is sketched in front of the prayer.
And only after the fire does the heat of the noon begin,
burning after burning. The joyful fire, the happy burn,
the peal of flame. On the old volcano, the children find
blue wildflowers. Yelling, they step on the hole
under which the flames twinkle, witty, but awake.