postscript

valeriu dg barbu

quadrilingual post (english, italiano, magyar, română)

all the women in my life
I do not know to cry
are nestle so
in the absence and sometimes
they forget me out there
as an umbrella –
I write about them with caution
here on the edge of a book

I actually wanted written at least
one love poem –
and why should it be written? …
today no one reads
all are showing their wounds
left by the horses of Prince Charming

to the nights follows another night
and no one day is not lurking among…
flourished the spine of the book that
I hold in my arms from a life

from the land of absences come sometimes the letters
but always likely
someone is stealing
in my box is enormous spider
does not enter anything else

the drought hide one by one
the maps of the rains
sizzle a drop…

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WordPress, the largest platform Blogger… WordPress, la più grande piattaforma Blogger… WordPress, ce mai mare platformă bloggers

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual post: English, Italian and Romanian languages

WordPress is (still) one of the biggest blogging platforms in the world.
This is an indisputable truth and archi-known.
WordPress is divided into two branches, one free with limited functions, and the other for a fee and with good tools.
The free branch is not really bad, has parts very laudable, but, but, but, since June of 2013, began to appear more and more problems.
You do not count “the views”, stats, in honest mode (as proof, I have an external counter that gives me different from other statistics do wordpress, leaving the impression that wordpress, steal, …I checked and tested with the blogger friends …in addition, careful observations ..)
Until recently, there have been problems with the “Like”, now, do not stick in all blogs, these “Like”
On some blogs, when you want to leave a “Like”, will open a new browser…

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The war of the Flies… La guerra delle mosche… Războiul muștelor

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual post: English, Italian and Romanian languages

With a huge flyswatter, I kill imaginary flies, imitating the gods or
the hands of clock that hunt my intentions, crushing them one by one
from the walls, imaginary, of course… The hardest part was
with a fly fat and old, you it named the Moon
the whip of the sun hits me on the neck, shoulders, leaving deep furrows
but I cannot stop; even more indomitable I hit the air, the light…
the shadow it sees me a fly, I became a fly, humble, I wait the flyswatter, here it is …arrives

Image

Con un enorme schiacciamosche, uccido le mosche immaginarie, imitando gli dèi o
le lancette dell’orologio che che caccia le mie intenzioni, schiacciandole una per una
dai muri, immaginari, naturalmente… La parte più difficile è stata
con una mosca grassa e vecchia, voi la nominate Luna
la frusta del sole mi…

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State of Siege in absolute… Stato d’assedio in assoluto… Starea de asediu în absolut…

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual post: English, Italian and Romanian languages

Eyes wasted in synthetic trees have the outline of soles
Here, wolves of wax lurk in my veins
where the oval exclamations bring siege …and the sun will not come today…
Approaching somewhere an eerie music
as a warrior marching of ants, or by leaves of carnivorous plants…
The wolves grow up, the soles are smarting, and the clock hands pass with a hot iron rod
to mark me the forehead, on shoulder, on the tongue – any form of resistance would be useless

Image

Occhi sprecati negli alberi sintetici hanno il contorno di suole
Qui, lupi di cera stanno in agguato alle mie vene
dove le esclamazioni ovali mettono assedio …e il sole oggi non arriverà…
Si avvicina da qualche parte una musica inquietante
come una marcia guerriero di formiche, o da foglie di piante carnivore…
I lupi crescono, le suole bruciano, le…

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Gotcha… Beccato… Te-am prins…

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual post: English, Italian and Romanian languages

Hey, wait, I know who you are, not turn the page, stay a while
I see you, you know!…
in this room with strange colors
between these branches, often misunderstood,
Look, we can also to touch us –
I, curled up in your hands
you, leaving you on my shoulder
You can laugh, you can cry, you can spit…
you can dream alone …like me
or dream with me
no, do not tell me
when you’re not – as so often – agreed with what I write
you just try to look
from the page towards you – now, you understand
Do you understand that I love you?

Image

Ehi, aspetta, io so chi sei, non voltare pagina, rimani un po’
ti vedo, sai!…
in questa stanza di strani colori
tra questi rami, spesso fraintesi,
senti, possiamo anche toccarci –
io, rannicchiandomi tra le…

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Short weekend… Week-end breve… Weekend scurt…

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual post: English, Italian and Romanian languages

I do not want anything, an apathy seeps slowly
such as glass of windows and lime on the walls drunk of smoke and secrets
I don’t wait for nothing, my ego asks for a little holiday
He is tired of competing with the other “I” brainless
who are now wandering who knows where…
This weekend quiet will last maybe an hour – come the joys, I know…
So is always, cannot have the man a bit of peace…

Image

Non mi va di nulla, un’apatia si filtra lentamente
come le vetrate e la calce sui muri ubriachi di fumo e di segreti
Non ho più nessuna attesa, il mio ego chiede un po’ di vacanza
È stanco di competere con gli altri “io” scervellati
che ora stanno vagando chissà dove…
Questa fine settimana tranquilla durerà forse un’ora – arrivano le gioie, lo so…
Così…

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The Pyre – Part One… Il rogo… Rugul…

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual post: English, Italian and Romanian languages

The motivation of creation is not found in the artist but in his work, so that the work already pre-existed and only the artist knows. The artist sacrifices everything to reveal it. So, being revealed, the work does not feel betrayed, his hiding to be declassified, but revived, materialized, humanized as well as the man, in his turn, is deified, it being the work of the great Creator…
The work invented through comparisons, associations of ideas, hunting for novelty and the impression, is just an exercise; the work revealed by his spiritual form and who moves in object, is true art.
There is a temptation to believe that the work reflects the artist’s soul, a sort of “image and likeness” ethereal. But the artist’s work before his birth there, waiting for him in the incomprehensible nested shells of the sky. Blind, confused, just…

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a comma… una virgola… o virgulă

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual post: English, Italian and Romanian languages

I write the as for first time…
every lyrical intent enter through strings that betrays emotion,
like I write for the mistress
.
each letter, point… increase exaggerated, and raise my hand too far up
me raise up
now, I become as a comma which does not find its place in the strings

Image

scrivo come se fosse per la prima volta
ogni intenzione lirica entra nelle stringhe cui
tradisce le emozioni come scriverei alla donna amata
.
ogni lettera cresce esagerato, mi solleva la mano troppo in su
solleva pure a me…
ora, sono diventato quanto una virgola, che non trova il suo posto nelle stringhe

Image

scriu ca şi cum ar fi întâia oară
fiecare intenţie lirică intră în şiruri care trădează emoţia de parcă
aş scrie iubitei…
.
fiecare literă creşte exagerat, îmi saltă mâna prea sus
mă ridică
sunt devenit acum…

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The fifth season… La quinta stagione… Al cincilea anotimp

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual post: English, Italian and Romanian languages.

Next week, here in Rome, I don’t know if even to you, comes the spring.
Valentine’s Day he will bring with gestures of us all.
Who will remain static, will extend the winter – and if it were even so,
for me it has never been winter but a sort of fifth season irresolute,
a fissure or a threshold, a window through me…
Why should it come the spring if another winter will come along
and everything will be repeated stereotyped? So in the spring, we will return all children… you know?

Image

photo with Dobri Dobrev

La prossima settimana, qui a Roma, non so se pure da voi, arriverà la Primavera.
San Valentino l’ha porterà con i gesti di tutti noi.
Chi rimarrà statico, estenderà l’inverno – e se fosse così,
per me non è mai stato l’inverno ma una sorta di quinta…

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Reality show…

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual post: English, Italian and Romanian languages

I pass of Via Cavour (in Rome) I climb, and then I take a tram and go home
I boil some fresh sausage ham in lard and wine
I drink a cup of mulled wine and I write, and write about
my silly longing of Romania…
A Romanian was laughing in my nose: Come home sir, so …why suffer?
An Italian looked at me wrong, he said: but yes, just go, and also, ye are too many here
Another Italian says dryly: stay here, I just came back from there, listen to me, you’re stayinghere…
Another Romanian: Look, how do this man the whims, I too would like
to sing like a Tudor Gheorghe, “out there is my country”, riding on the Eiffel Tower…
Another, short: but go in to your …beep
The sausages are dried up, cooled wine, I close the…

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