Poem
Răzvan Ţupa
MONUMENT OF AIR
Out of all the things they do not tell and maybe / even those which never happen are structures uttering real cities / Clear delights Springing suddenly from awaiting years / of whispers you had no chance to understand but coming out just when you pay no attention: Columns of breathing moods clear passions / you could coldly pass over but each Question is to be found right inside your body Covering everything from the beginning/ until somewhere in remote times even if you couldn’t yet recall: From the beginning to the end / of history everything truly believes in one singular body and its parts some imaginary, others Caught in the middle of every movement / and even pushed to periphery amidst the intensity of the day, intimacies – some kind of nails, growing like hair only to protect you / from your noise from the heat of your each organ you use to light the peaceful flame of fascination Things that are just words / they only are alive when uttered you are happy, otherwise they stay forever / rustling silence and touching whenever all these / are uttered somewhere still alive there is again the most beautiful person and for so many times, like the poem, like / the city, that person is you / the complete breathing
© Translation: 2016, Răzvan Ţupa
LUCHTMONUMENT
Uit al de dingen die niet worden uitgesproken en misschien / zelfs nooit gebeuren zijn er structuren die hele steden uit monden halen / Heldere genoegens Ze duiken onverwacht op na lange jaren / van gefluister dat je onmogelijk kon begrijpen maar precies dan verschijnen wanneer je even niet oplet: Zuilen van ademhaling en aanvallen van klare hartstochten / waar je kil aan voorbijging maar elke vraag is onwrikbaar in je lichaam terug te vinden Alles overspannend van het begin af / tot ergens ver weg ook als je je het nog niet kon herinneren: Van het ene eind van de geschiedenis naar het andere / gelooft alles oprecht in een enkel lichaam met ingebeelde leden, en leden Die midden in elke beweging gevangen zitten / ja zelfs de rand de intensiteit van de dag in worden geduwd, toenaderingen als vingernagels, als groeiend haar enkel Om je te beschermen / tegen je geluid, de warmte van elk orgaan waarmee je de kalme vlam van de fascinatie aansteekt Dingen die niet meer dan woorden zijn / bestaan enkel als ze worden uitgesproken je bent blij, anders blijven ze voor altijd / ruisende stilte En aanraking telkens als die allemaal / worden uitgesproken blijven ze ergens bestaan opnieuw de mooiste persoon en Zo vaak, als het gedicht, als / de stad, ben jíj die persoon / de volledige ademhalingMONUMENT DE AER
Din toate câte nu se spun şi poate/ chiar lucrurile de nu se întâmplă niciodată sunt structuri care scot oraşe întregi din guri/ Bucurii limpezi Ridicate pe neaşteptate din ani lungi/ de şoapte pe care nu ai apucat să le-nţelegi dar exact când nu te uiţi apar: Coloane de respiraţii şi toane pasiuni clare/ peste care ai trece rece dar fiecare întrebare se găseşte fix în corpul tău Întins peste toate de la început/ până cândva foarte departe chiar dacă nu ai putut să îţi amineşti încă: Dintr-un capăt la celălalt/ al istoriei totul crede sincer într-un singur corp cu părţile lui unele imaginate, altele Prinse în mijlocul fiecărei mişcări/ şi chiar împinse în margini în intensitatea diurnă, apropieri ca nişte unghii, ca părul crescute doar Ca să te apere/ de zgomotul tău, de căldura fiecărui organ din care aprinzi flama calmă a fascinaţiei Lucruri care sunt numai cuvinte/ doar când sunt zise există te bucuri, altfel rămân pentru totdeauna/ linişte foşnitoare Şi atingerea de fiecare dată când toate astea/ sunt spuse undeva se mai află încă din nou persoana cea mai frumoasă şi De atâtea ori, ca şi poemul, ca şi/ oraşul, persoana asta eşti tu/ respiraţia completă
© 2011, Răzvan Ţupa
From: „poetic. cerul din delft şi alte corpuri româneşti”
From: „poetic. cerul din delft şi alte corpuri româneşti”
Poems
Poems of Răzvan Ţupa
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MONUMENT OF AIR
Out of all the things they do not tell and maybe / even those which never happen are structures uttering real cities / Clear delights Springing suddenly from awaiting years / of whispers you had no chance to understand but coming out just when you pay no attention: Columns of breathing moods clear passions / you could coldly pass over but each Question is to be found right inside your body Covering everything from the beginning/ until somewhere in remote times even if you couldn’t yet recall: From the beginning to the end / of history everything truly believes in one singular body and its parts some imaginary, others Caught in the middle of every movement / and even pushed to periphery amidst the intensity of the day, intimacies – some kind of nails, growing like hair only to protect you / from your noise from the heat of your each organ you use to light the peaceful flame of fascination Things that are just words / they only are alive when uttered you are happy, otherwise they stay forever / rustling silence and touching whenever all these / are uttered somewhere still alive there is again the most beautiful person and for so many times, like the poem, like / the city, that person is you / the complete breathing
© 2016, Răzvan Ţupa
From: „poetic. cerul din delft şi alte corpuri româneşti”
From: „poetic. cerul din delft şi alte corpuri româneşti”
MONUMENT OF AIR
Out of all the things they do not tell and maybe / even those which never happen are structures uttering real cities / Clear delights Springing suddenly from awaiting years / of whispers you had no chance to understand but coming out just when you pay no attention: Columns of breathing moods clear passions / you could coldly pass over but each Question is to be found right inside your body Covering everything from the beginning/ until somewhere in remote times even if you couldn’t yet recall: From the beginning to the end / of history everything truly believes in one singular body and its parts some imaginary, others Caught in the middle of every movement / and even pushed to periphery amidst the intensity of the day, intimacies – some kind of nails, growing like hair only to protect you / from your noise from the heat of your each organ you use to light the peaceful flame of fascination Things that are just words / they only are alive when uttered you are happy, otherwise they stay forever / rustling silence and touching whenever all these / are uttered somewhere still alive there is again the most beautiful person and for so many times, like the poem, like / the city, that person is you / the complete breathing
© 2016, Răzvan Ţupa
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