Then we met more often.
I stood at one side of the hour,
you at the other,
like two handles of an amphora.
Only the words flew between us,
back and forth.
You could almost see their swirling,
and suddenly,
I would lower a knee,
and touch my elbow to the ground
to look at the grass, bent
by the falling of some word,
as though by the paw of a lion in flight.
The words spun between us,
back and forth,
and the more I loved you, the more
they continued, this whirl almost seen,
the structure of matter, the beginnings of things.
From the book "Bas-Relief with Heroes"
english translation by Thomas Carlson and Vasile Poenaru.
Poveste sentimentală
Pe urma ne vedeam din ce în ce mai des.
Eu stateam la o margine-a orei,
tu - la cealalta,
ca doua toarte de amfora.
Numai cuvintele zburau intre noi,
inainte si inapoi.
Virtejul lor putea fi aproape zarit,
si deodata,
îmi lasam un genunchi,
iar cotul mi-infigeam în pământ,
numai ca să privesc iarba-nclinata
de caderea vreunui cuvint,
ca pe sub laba unui leu alergind.
Cuvintele se roteau, se roteau intre noi,
inainte si inapoi,
si cu cât te iubeam mai mult, cu atât
repetau, intr-un virtej aproape văzut,
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