somewhere i have never travelled / undeva unde n-am calatorit niciodata

POSTED IN classic poetry, translated English-Romanian March 22, 2019

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

somewhere i have never travelled /
undeva unde n-am calatorit niciodata

 

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me,i and
my life will shut very beautifully,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

e. e. cummings

……………………………………………..

undeva unde n-am calatorit niciodata

undeva unde n-am calatorit niciodata, bucuros dincolo
de orice experienta, ochii tai au tacerea lor:
in gestul tau cel mai fragil sunt lucruri care ma include,
ori pe care nu le pot atinge deoarece sunt prea aproape

privirea ta cea mai mica ma include cu usurinta
desi m-am inchis precum degetele,
tu ma deschizi mereu petala cu petala precum Primavara deschide
(atingand abil, misterios ) primul sau trandafir

sau daca vrei sa ma inchizi, eu si
viata mea ne-om inchide foarte frumos, brusc
ca atunci când inima acestei flori își imaginează
zapada cazand cu grija peste tot;

nimic din ceea ce noi trebuie sa percepem in aceasta lume egaleaza
puterea intensei tale fragilitati: a carei textura
mă obligă cu culoarea țărilor sale
traducand moartea și pentru totdeauna cu fiecare respirație

(nu știu ce este despre tine care închide
si deschide; doar ceva in mine intelege
vocea ochilor tai este mai adanca decat toti trandafirii)
nimeni, nici chiar ploaia, nu are maini asa mici

 

Maria Magdalena