D. H. Lawrence - Bavarian Gentians

Not every man has gentians in his house
in soft September, at slow, sad Michaelmas.

Bavarian gentians, big and dark, only dark
darkening the daytime, torch-like, with the smoking blueness of Pluto's gloom,
ribbed and torch-like, with their blaze of darkness spread blue
down flattening into points, flattened under the sweep of white day
torch-flower of the blue-smoking darkness, Pluto's dark-blue daze,
black lamps from the halls of Dis, burning dark blue,
giving off darkness, blue darkness, as Demeter's pale lamps give off light,
lead me then, lead the way.

Reach me a gentian, give me a torch!
let me guide myself with the blue, forked torch of this flower
down the darker and darker stairs, where blue is darkened on blueness
even where Persephone goes, just now, from the frosted September
to the sightless realm where darkness is awake upon the dark
and Persephone herself is but a voice
or a darkness invisible enfolded in the deeper dark
of the arms Plutonic, and pierced with the passion of dense gloom,
among the splendor of torches of darkness, shedding darkness
on the lost bride and her groom.

Nicolae-Andrei Popa - Gentiene de Bavaria

Nu are tot barbatul gentiene in casa lui
in luna cea ploioasa a lui septembrie,de trista, rabdatoarea zi a Sf. Mihail.

Gentiene de Bavaria, mari si negre, negre doar
umbrind lumina zilei, aduc a torta, cu albastrimea fumeganda a mahnirii lui Pluto,
aduc a torta si au nervuri, cu ale lor zvacniri de intuneric imprastiate trist
turtite-n granulatii, strivite de invazia luminii caste
floare-torta a intunecimii aburind vanat,orbirea vanat-intunecata a lui Pluto,
lampi negre din coridoarele Infernului, arzand albastru-ntunecat,
desertand intunecime, intunecime vanata, pe cand ale Demetrei lampi palide palpaie,
calauzeste-ma deci, arata-mi calea.

Intinde-mi o gentiana, o torta sa-mi dai!
sa ma calauzesc vreau singur cu vanata, bifurcata torta a acestei flori
jos pe treptele din ce in ce mai negre, unde culoarea vanata se-nnegreste de tot
chiar si aici unde paseste Persefona, din septembrie cea infrigurata
pana la taramul nevazut unde intunecimea vegheaza asupra intunericului
si Persefona insasi nu-i decat un ecou
sau o intunecime oarba impaturita in intunericul abisal
ale bratelor lui Pluto, patrunsa fiind de nesatul mahnirii far’de margini
in ambientul minunatelor torte smolite, varsand intunecimea
pe mireasa pierduta si pe-al ei mire.