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.

Veronica Anghel

Simona Grazia Dima
 

Armour for fire

Of fire we were afraid, in fire we have lost our helplessness.
Always careful – we were asking ourselves to what: to blaze,
to the burning ship (but would be shy to say),
To the flame that could capture us anytime,
From wherever.With the graal in our hands, we knew
that a Pheonix could appear, to jump on his back.
Burnt, to be the invincible cavaliers. At the beginning,
There is no armour. As out of fog its veins arise,
as the angel wing adumbrates itself in front of the praing one.
And barely after the fire, the heat of the afternoon begins,
the burning after the burning. On the old volcano, the children find out
blue anemones. Shouting, they step on the crater
underneath of which, playful, but aroused, the blazes flicker.