A mixture of art in all its forms and random grabs from life and whatever else bubbles up….

Strigoii…

Strigoii

Cu roşii fanare, galbene, verzi

Trec noaptea strigoii prin lanuri de grâu

Şi câinii spre lanuri în noapte tot bat ―

Strigoii la crâşmă în pod au intrat,

Şi podul se vede bizar luminat

De roşii fanare, galbene, verzi.

Strigoii, din pod, îşi iau înapoi,

Lăsate din viaţă, demult, amanete…

Aşa spune basmul ce azi l-am uitat

Că noaptea, la crâşmă, apar siluete

Cu roşii fanare, galbene, verzi.

Dar când despre ziuă cocoşu-a cântat,

Cad buzna, din pod, grămezi de strigoi

Şi-n hău, peste lanuri, strigoii se pierd

Roşii, galbeni şi verzi.

The Ghosts

With lamps of red, yellow, and green

night ghosts pass through fields of grain.

Dogs bark at the black fields.

Ghosts flow into the attic of the inn,

the attic is lit extravagantly

by red lamps, yellow ones, and green.

From the attic the ghosts reclaim

hostages from the times of their lives.

A story I forgot tells how

in the attic night, silhouettes appear

with red lamps and yellow and green.

Then, in the dawn, when the cock sings,

a gathering of ghosts falls from the attic.

Across the fields these ghosts are lost

in red and yellow and green.

George Bacovia (1881-1957)

r ts r s s g e d i g

5 responses

  1. Brrrr…!

    May 3, 2011 at 16:44

    • May 3, 2011 at 16:48

      • Wow, thanks Androxa!

        May 3, 2011 at 18:01

  2. Pingback: Trafic cu Hituri (runda 66) « Teo Negură

  3. Pingback: Miercurea fără cuvinte 3 – rostul mişcării « Teo Negură

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