SIMONA GRAZIA DIMA

Intelegere

Ia ma de la pamant,
dezveleste mi fata de scorpion inlacrimat,
deschide mi palma cu imprimeuri luminoase, mortale,
spune, daca poti, cine si a trait aici in tacere destinul.
Hanul mongol, pe tronul cu pietre inverse,
nu va scoate o vorba.
Imobil, cel tarat prin praf te va urmari din ochi.
Iluzia mortii. Puterea, totusi, n a pierit.
Tarziu, va izbucni un strigat. Din el,
plamada intelegerii, izbind.

Liliana Stefan

Simona Grazia Dima
 

Illumination

Lift me up from the ground,
unveil my face of a scorpion in tears,
open my palm with bright deadly prints,
say, if you can, who lived a quiet life here.
The Mongolian khan, in his throne with reversed gems,
will not utter a word.
Motionless, the one dragged through dust will keep an eye on you.
The illusion of death. Still, the power has not perished.
Late, a yell will break out. Out of it,
the dough of illumination, striking.