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.

Alexandra Ionescu

Simona Grazia Dima
 

Insight

Take me from the ground,
unveil my mourning scorpion face,
open my palm with its bright and deadly prints,
tell me,if you can,who lived their destiny in silence.
The Mongolian tavern,on the throne with upside-down stones,
won`t say a word.
Motionless, the dragged through dust will follow you with a gaze.
The illusion of death. The power has,though,not perished.
Later, a call will break loose. From it,
The outburst of comprehension, striking.