Urletul limbii la naşterea poetului / The howl of the language at the birth of the poet

POSTED IN Romanian May 1, 2021

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Urletul limbii la naşterea poetului / The howl of the language at the birth of the poet

într-o noapte în timp ce vuia
codrul din creştete
Dumnezeu mă soma c-o nuia
moale: rosteşte-te!

mă rosteam însă cum să-mi înalţ
slava cu ţipete?
nici o scară spre cerul de smalţ
nici un scripete

mă rosteam însă vai! ce arbust
gingaş e sîngerul:
cum să-ncapă în trunchiu-i îngust
dracul şi îngerul?

mă rosteam şi dansau tot mai jos
astrele sprintene
Dumnezeu apăsîndu-mi gelos
burta sub pintene

mă soma şi-am urlat ca din teasc:
fiara luminii mă
cotropeşte şi – iată: îmi nasc
propria inimă!

Stefan Augustin Doinas

…………………………………..

The howl of the language at the birth of the poet

One night while roaring each tree
from the woods on their dwelf
with a wand God was daring me
softly: utter yourself!

I was uttering but how can I rise
my glory with shouts?
not one ladder to the enamel skies
not one pulley clouts.

I was uttering but alas! how
a frail shrub like dogwood
to fit in its narrow trunk bough
devil and angel could?

I was uttering and they danced low and lower,
the lightsome nimble stars
God pressing with jealousy knower
my belly under spurs.

He dared me and I howled like from press:
the beast of light
seizes me and – behold: I give birth
to my own heart!

Translated by Maria Magdalena Biela