Genesis by Raul Constantinescu
mai 27, 2017


In the beginning there was nothing to be,
not the welcoming place, nor instants as falling scales
on the eyes of time,
nor suns, nor eyes, nor rocks, nor sand…
A spark in flight over the archaeii floated –
dream of the beauty without a body
in an endless, fine scattering –
reflection of the shine which himself eats,
a thousand fold wishing unbordered dream…
…It was happening not know what time,
like in an immense corolla with teeth,
that thirstful, blind distances to run backwards
and the blizzards to return in themselves,
like roots, petals, leaves
to run into a grain of poppy
and through seeds, in patterns of crimson flowers
the elements return
in a living passover


(from The Saying of Zalmoxis, (1978-2005)

[Translation by Felix Rian Constantinescu]

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