Urbi et orbi - Poeme (Poems) - Ediţie bilingvă (Bilingual edition)
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Autorul abordează realitatea direct, fără menajamente, într-o notă personală, de anvergură, restabilind adevărul asupra ideilor controversate, învăluindu-le în mister sau punându-le la îndoială ori de câte ori are prilejul. Uneori, cu un umor disimulat, foarte aproape de scarcasm, ia în derâdere teama omului în faţa morţii, confruntărille dramatice ale acestuia cu încercările vieţii, desenând, din vârful peniţei, un tablou vizionar amplu asupra întregii problematicii ale lumii
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Urbi et orbi - Poeme (Poems) - Ediţie bilingvă (Bilingual edition) - Contu Aurel, Sr
Urbi et orbi
- poeme (poems) -
Ediţie bilingvă (Bilingual edition)
Aurel Conţu
Publicat de Aurel Conţu
Traducere text: Andreea Câmpeanu
Grafica şi coperta: Nicolae Sfetcu
Copyright 2016 Aurel Conţu
Ediția Smashwords (Smashwords Edition)
Cuvânt înainte
Autorul abordează realitatea direct, fără menajamente, într-o notă personală, de anvergură, restabilind adevărul asupra ideilor controversate, învăluindu-le în mister sau punându-le la îndoială ori de câte ori are prilejul. Uneori, cu un umor disimulat, foarte aproape de scarcasm, ia în derâdere teama omului în faţa morţii, confruntărille dramatice ale acestuia cu încercările vieţii, desenând, din vârful peniţei, un tablou vizionar amplu asupra întregii problematicii ale lumii: … mă rostogoleam râzând/în acest uriaş caleidoscop al vieţii/printre mii de cioburi de oglindă/simţeam deruta luminii/ricoşând ca un fluture/Nu mai eram singur/nu mai erai singură/eram milioane de chipuri/aliniate simetric/la aceeaşi coadă/întinsă până/la capătul/cerului/unde aşteptam/zgribuliţi/să ne luăm/porţia/zilnică/de/iluzii…
. Autorul respinge nihlismul ca metodă de revoltă sau instigare existenţială, fără să-l excludă însă total ( „…priveşti alegoric peste marginea ceştii/tragi din ţigară/la ştiri se vorbeşte despre dezastre/despre fumatul în spaţii închise/un prost a aruncat cu piatra în baltă/ce dracu`ne facem/ne lăsăm de fumat/omorâm câinii/ciobanii/fir-aţi ai dracului de nenorociţi/cu legile voastre/cu jandarmii voştri/umflaţi/cum să te laşi de fumat/cu aceste salarii/nu mai vorbim despre pensii/despre euri/pute a Bruxelles de la o poştă…), opunându-i, insidios parcă, cunoaşterea, acel determinism colocvial, impregnat în conştiinţa colectivă, potrivit căruia acţiunea umană este determinată cauzal de un lanţ succesiv de evenimente anterioare :
…nimeni nu ştie exact încotro mergem/noaptea de la capătul vieţii-i/geroasă/şi sumbră/nimeni nu ştie exact/dacă ajungem/undeva/ totuşi/sau dacă rămânem/ în umbră…". Oscilant între trecut şi prezent, cu dese incursiuni în viitor, Aurel Conţu ne incită când la reflecţii filozofice, de care el personal se dezice, când la lectură, de dragul lecturii, când doar la luciditate.
Recenzor
Foreword
The author takes the reality straight, without any caution, in a personal manner, very wide, reestablishing the truth over controverted ideas, warping them in mystery or simply questioning them every time. Sometimes, with subtle humor, very close to sarcasm, the author mocks the fear of the humans towards death, the dramatic clashes with life, drawing in the pen, a visionary landscape of all the troubles of this world : I was rolling with laughter/ in this wide kaleidoscope of life / over thousands crocks of a mirror / I kept feeling the confusion of the world/ you were no longer alone/ we were a thousand faces / lined in symmetry/for the same queue/ across the land /hanging to the sky/ where we were waiting in Shriver/ for our daily ration of illusions / . The author rejects the nihilism as a way for the rebellion or life questioning, without giving up of it totally : you look as in an allegory /over the edge of the cup/ smoking your cigar/ the news talk about disasters/ about the smoking in closed spaces/ a fool has thrown with stones in the water / what the hell are we going to do / we quit smoking/ we kill the dogs/the shepherds/ damn you/ your laws/ your guardians/all swallowed/ how to quit smoking /with these salaries/ with these pensions/ we are not talking about ourselves/ here it smells like Bruxelles ), setting in opposition and insidious knowledge, that colloquial determinism, marked by the common conscience, telling us that the human actions is causally determined by the chain of the past events : no one really knows exactly where we are going / the night that ends the life/ cold and dark/ no one really knows /if we will reach somewhere/ yet /or we shall remain in the shadow. Bouncing between the past and the present, Aurel Cornu, is provoking us to think as a philosopher, even if he denies it, he is charming us to read for the sake of the reading or just to keep a clear mind.
The reviewer
De veghe
dormind trec parcă prin viaţă
mai uşor
mă-ngrijesc să nu cad de pe scări
când cobor
am grijă să rămân viu şi atunci
când se mai întâmplă
să mor
On the watch
I walk the life in sleep
To make it easier
I take care not to fall on the stairs
When going down
I try to stay alive
Even when I die from time to time
Fiorduri
în ţara în care toate nopţile-s albe
în care toate vânturile bat dinspre acelaşi
nord
auster
desenând aurore boreale
carnale
pasteluri celeste
pe cer
copii sunt ramuri
rupte
din pom
dragostea
un joc de culori
între neamuri
oculte
vikingul
nu-i om
Fjords
in the country where all the nights are white
where all the winds blow from the same
austere
north
drawing carnal
aurora borealis
celestial pastels
in the sky
children are branches
broken
from the tree
love
is a game of colors
among occult
peoples
the Viking
is not human.
În dulcele stil clasic
se întâmpla-ntr-o zi de toamnă tulbure ca vinul
într-un moment de cumpănă al vieţii
vâzduhul griu în care se-adunase tot veninul
ne strecura în vene plumbul dimineţii
răceala de oţel a ochilor tăi repezi
mi se-nfingea în suflet ca un apus târziu
scoteam de-acolo trist bucăţi de lespezi
pe care le pusesem peste tine ca peste un sicriu
oricât mi-aş fi dorit să ne mai dăm o şansă
să ne mai răsfăţăm în răsărituri limpezi şi amezi
trecutul năvălea din urmă ca o avalanşă
şi ne-ngropa de vii încă o dată sub zăpezi
In the sweet clasic style
It happened in one autumn day
Gloomy as the wine
In a crossroad of life
The grey skies which had gathered all the venom
Poured the heavy morning in our veins
The steel coldness of your quick eyes
Was stabbing my soul as an late sunset
From which I was pulling out heavy stones
To lay them over you as if you were a coffin
No matter how much I would wish for another chance for us
To keep spoiling clear sunrises and noon
The past was coming over us as an avalanche
And buried us alive once again under the snow
Paşi
înainte de a fi oameni
suntem iedere
plante agăţătoare
urcăm în fiecare zi tot felul de scări
coborâm trepte
lumea-i concepută ca un ziggurat
pentru zei
ca o piramidă căzută din alt
Univers
ca o poartă stelară
într-o zi ne-am pierdut aripile
am ieşit din păsări
în iederi
în vrejuri
pe ziduri
am luat cu asalt cerul
Steps
Before we turn to men
We are ivies
Crouching plants
We climb all kinds of stairs each day
We go down steps
The whole world is meant to be an ziggurat
For the gods
As a pyramid fallen from another Universe
As a star gate
One day we have lost our wings
We came out of the birds
To become ivies
Crouches
On the walls
We went for the sky
Din afară
un corb îmi ciugulea ochii
altul inima
devenisem
un gheizer
din care ţâşnea sânge
lângă mine
Gândul
chircit ca un strugure
căzuse
pe gânduri
From the outside
A raven was eating my eyes
Another one was eating my heart
I had become a geezer
Of blood
Near me
The thought
Crouched as a grape
Was thinking of itself
Cuvintele
prin nisipuri mişcătoare