the irony bug – il verme dell’ironia – viermele ironiei

valeriu dg barbu

trilingual text

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there are words that fill my heart with fright
there are syllables that I rather skip
none of them deserves the height
for giving my bones a stab of meaning deep..
.
trying to give purpose a name
I end up even more broken than before
what this is trying to convey is
that I better speak no more..
.
to write?.. The letters are a scythe blade
purposely twisted to make incisions
the thought, the thought?… What a beautiful green glade..
my mind, poor thing, a sheep grazing on illusions
.
my heart is pressing hot ideals
a crossroads of boiling rivers
hopes drown like gypsies close to the shores
and everything ends in the echo of the towing bells
.
nothing holds my interest
the ennui is dressed in fake joy
and not out of wisdom, my speech I’ll arrest
but even in my dreams I’m…

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letter from far away – lettera da lontano – scrisoare de departe

valeriu dg barbu

trilingual text

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Don’t sit on my chair while I’m away
Don’t promise me pristine train stations either
Time is running out
On guilt and name, so I won’t use makeup
Don’t send me any consolations
Give me news about friends, about yourself, detached from events
When you are ready to forgive, separations won’t feel so heavy
Your mug won’t hold so many questions anymore
You will be waiting for the strike of the hour and not at all for a miracle
Don’t fear the anxiety
If I had been looking for peace or happiness, I would have given up all thought
One thing you should know
We need the clear mind to make room for new moments
And don’t forget, while I am away, don’t sit on my chair

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mentre  sarò andato via, non stare sulla mia sedia
non deve promettermi stazioni intatte,
il tempo diventa sempre meno,
per la…

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Time to go – È ora di andare – Vremea să plec

this post is lovely…

valeriu dg barbu

trilingual text

Image

Who could love like the violin loves its own sound?
Who could shed his own self, to make room for others?..
Who would know how to love, love itself, without wanting anything else?…
The key is turned in ignition… the road slides underneath in all directions…
You feel that you’re moving, but you’re not,
It’s the game of the bearing balls… the ground is spinning impetuously…
I am standing here, still, and numberless shadows spring from me and run into the world
Each one feverishly looking for something, decidedly moments of happiness
They return in the evening, tired and empty handed
It’s time that I leave as well, give my shadows a sort of vacation..
And find out why moments of happiness are so important.. and especially
How much they would charge me..
And If I become a violin while at it, play me,
If I a am…

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