IOANA IERONIM

Tempo Rubato


how many words are too many
how few are too few
how much silence is warm nearness
how much of it
desert land

how many kisses would be too many
how is it
without

how could we find
the golden mean
when I the unknown am facing
you the unknown
and stories will tend to fill the territory
if they are allowed -

words can absorb so much
for us they should be able to absorb it all
for in words
we trust

how many words then are too many
how few are too few

will we ever be wise enough
to learn

*

we have lived all of it
and none
on a threshold on a window sill
in a mirror and on its reverse
on either side of a continent of a curtain
of a sea of a screen

we have been sending words and silences
to one another
they travel to the sky and come back on earth
they have bloomed into airy concatenations
whose roots have been lost

now they are everywhere
mute waves of darkness
showers of stars, bodiless broken waves

we have lived all of it
yet all is out there
to be lived

here we are, like the Little Prince
in a non-Euclidean realm
we can watch sunset
and sunrise
whenever we wish

 

Alina Olimpia Gaci Miron

Ioana Ieronim
 

Tempo Rubato

cate cuvinte sunt prea multe
cate sunt prea putine
cata liniste este calda apropiere
cata liniste
e pamant pustiu

cate saruturi ar fi prea multe
cum este
fara

cum am putea gasi
calea de mijloc
cand ma confrunt cu necunoscutul
tu necunoscutul
si povesti ce vor incerca sa umple pamantul
-daca li se da voie-

cuvintele pot asimila atat de mult
pentru noi ar trebui sa poata asimila tot
deoarece-n cuvinte
ne incredem

-atunci cate cuvinte sunt prea multe-
cate sunt prea putine

fi-vom vreodat’ destul de intelepti
pentru a invata

*

am trait tot
si nimic
pe-un prag, pe-un pervaz
intr-o oglinda si pe cealalta parte a ei
pe ambele parti a unui continent a unei draperii
a unei mari a unui ecran

ne-am trimis cuvinte si taceri
unul altuia
ei calatoresc spre cer si se intorc pe pamant
au inflorit in inlantuiri eterice
ale caror radacini s-au pierdut

acum sunt peste tot
valuri tacute de-ntuneric
ploi de stele, valuri imateriale sparte

am trait tot
si totusi totul e acolo undeva
ca sa fie trait

iata-ne, precum Micul Print
intr-un taram non-euclidian
putem privi apusul
si rasaritul
oricand dorim