Stella Davis

After burying the monster

After burying the monster
we cannot return home.
We follow the geese skeining south
to the quiet docks, where lie in hulk
our ships once seaworthy.

They let loose a flickering hope.
Who is to say we shan't set sail again, rise
to the occasion as the tide turns? There
are coasts where we never landed: those
secretive shores.

A long time since, we turned on our neighbours,
rending their comfort by way of a sacrifice. "Give
of your best" was the rule.
We obeyed it, didn't we?
All those young men.

Now when a deceit of lapwings ravages the
green corn, it scarcely seems to matter.
Surprising, how long we are able
to eke a living; how many years
since we ate red meat?

We went so far, in the steps of the monster.
But the dint wears away, the road unravels,
the flag we clung to lies shredded,
and we find we cannot bear
to return home.

Liviu Martinescu

Stella Davis

Dupa inmormantarea mortului

Dupa ce-am inmormantat mortul
nu ne putem intoarce acasa.
Urmarim stolurile de gaste spre sud,
spre docurile grele, unde zac mucegaite
corabiile noastre care-au infruntat marile.

Ele ne arunca un fir de speranta.
Cine ne-mpiedica sa ridicam iar ancora, sa
stralucim iar cand vine fluxul? Mai
sunt tarmuri unde n-am adastat –
misterioase plaje.

De multa vreme ne tot ingrijim de vecini,
zidindu-le confortul printr-un sacrificiu.
"Da de la tine ce ai mai bun", era regula.
Si-am ascultat, nu?
Am dat fii nostri, tineri si frumosi.

Acum cand nagatii hoti pustiesc
lanul verde, nu prea mai are importanta.
E de mirare cum putem
trage de viata; de cati ani
n-am mai mancat carne rosie?

Atat de departe ne-am dus, dupa monstru.
Dar rana se vindeca, drumul se curata,
steagul de care-am stat lipiti e ferfenita
si descoperim ca nu suportam
sa ne intoarcem acasa.