Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Claudiu Komartin

Autumn comes with or without us

See, we can do it too, he told me,
we too can feel safe,
we can lose the thread of the story without being ashamed,
we can smoke listening & relaxed to
the breath of the city, its clamour slowed by cold
we could get out on the balcony & set fireworks off

syntax is a fog we are carving
random silhouettes out of, contours that immediately crumble
great smoke galleons on their way eastwards
and us with our neurotic chatter
alert to the clock’s ticking on the edge of the parapet
as if we were waiting for something we couldn’t refuse
from which powerful cables – black-shining veins – come in and out
thinking of all the autumns we could have blown
our brains away, hooting crazily

hooting at hell, as after a job well done.

Toamna vine și fără noi

Toamna vine și fără noi

Vezi, putem și noi, mi-a spus,
putem și noi să ne simțim în siguranță,
putem să pierdem firul poveștii și să nu ne fie rușine de asta,
putem să fumăm ascultând relaxați
respirația orașului, zgomotele lui încetinite de frig
am putea ieși pe balcon să aprindem artificii

sintaxa e-acum o ceață în care decupăm
siluete întâmplătoare, contururi care se spulberă într-o clipă
mari galioane de fum călătorind spre răsărit
iar noi cu pălăvrăgeala noastră nevrotică atenți la
ticăitul ceasului pe care cineva l-a lăsat pe balustradă
parcă am aștepta să vină ceva de nerefuzat, ceva
din care intră și ies cabluri puternice vene strălucitor de negre
gândindu-ne la toamnele în care am fi putut
să ne zburăm creierii hohotind

hohotind al naibii, ca după o treabă bine făcută
Close

Autumn comes with or without us

See, we can do it too, he told me,
we too can feel safe,
we can lose the thread of the story without being ashamed,
we can smoke listening & relaxed to
the breath of the city, its clamour slowed by cold
we could get out on the balcony & set fireworks off

syntax is a fog we are carving
random silhouettes out of, contours that immediately crumble
great smoke galleons on their way eastwards
and us with our neurotic chatter
alert to the clock’s ticking on the edge of the parapet
as if we were waiting for something we couldn’t refuse
from which powerful cables – black-shining veins – come in and out
thinking of all the autumns we could have blown
our brains away, hooting crazily

hooting at hell, as after a job well done.

Autumn comes with or without us

See, we can do it too, he told me,
we too can feel safe,
we can lose the thread of the story without being ashamed,
we can smoke listening & relaxed to
the breath of the city, its clamour slowed by cold
we could get out on the balcony & set fireworks off

syntax is a fog we are carving
random silhouettes out of, contours that immediately crumble
great smoke galleons on their way eastwards
and us with our neurotic chatter
alert to the clock’s ticking on the edge of the parapet
as if we were waiting for something we couldn’t refuse
from which powerful cables – black-shining veins – come in and out
thinking of all the autumns we could have blown
our brains away, hooting crazily

hooting at hell, as after a job well done.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère