Poem

Răzvan Ţupa

Side by side

YOU TALK COLOURS WEAR SOUNDS

breathe objects our worship doesn’t accept anymore but unpredictable beings a vegetal mandible a rod of liquid crystal at the ends of my touch phosphorescent your breathing rediscovers them intermittently utters them the smoky rock of ambiguity in the morning and still more than 1.000 handicrafts that can replace the distance

JE ZEGT DAT KLEUREN KLANKEN DRAGEN

dingen ademen onze verering aanvaardt alleen nog onvoorspelbare wezens een plantaardige onderkaak een roede van vloeibaar kristal aan de einden van mijn fosforescerende aanraking vindt je ademhaling ze terug spreekt ze met tussenpozen uit de rokerige rots van onduidelijkheden ’s morgens en nog eens meer dan duizend zelfgemaakte dingen die de afstand kunnen vervangen

SPUI CULORI PORŢI SUNETE

respiri obiecte adoraţia noastră nu mai acceptă decât fiinţe imprevizibile o mandibulă vegetală o vergea de cristal lichid în capetele atingerii mele fosforescente ţi le regăseşte respiraţia le rosteşte intermitent roca fumigenă a neclarităţii dimineaţa şi încă mai mult de 1000 de-obiecte artizanale care pot să înlocuiască distanţa

Răzvan Ţupa

(Romania, 1975)

Among the most important Romanian literary figures who began publishing after 2000, a decade after the fall of communism, Răzvan Ţupa (born in Brăila, a city on the Danube in eastern Romania) is indeed a prime example of his own critique of ‘the problem of generations’ remarked upon in a 2007 entry on his then-website, romanianbodies.blogspot.com: ‘the usage of the term . . . proved to work ag...