Yellow Earth


I’ll write a couplet for you.
2 ounces of cotton.

Pairs of pigeons fly high in the sky.
The bride descends from

Don’t cross the river.
sweetness is short.

Your eyebrows are like two crescent bows.
another’s worries.

Aha, let’s drench the bed.
This news will make you sad.

If you like good luck words,
My mouth cannot utter

I miss my mother.
and the melons on the hill.

parched seedlings.
Among human beings, a girl’s life

All my life I will never forget you.
Drink from the river, stay

Please eat.
blossom everywhere.

I try to look out of the window, but…
Married love depends on grain.

Your eyes are wide and clear.
You tread the yellow earth,

you remember.
Nothing. I’m sewing.

When life becomes hard,
Use the oar. Be careful.

I’m afraid I shall not see you again.
May your daughter be nimble-fingered.

Take out your notebook,
They’re just bitter songs.

Why do you collect bitter songs?
I have time.

If he misses me, he should look at this
Barefoot is best.




Wait, wait…
Maybe you really don’t touch
There’s a stain, no doubt.
This color really suits you.

I never touched something
I have such a bad feeling
Don’t you have the key?
We also have second-hand weapons.

And why do you go barefoot?
give me time to return.
She fell asleep.
She didn’t say anything.

I’m in in the terminal stage…
missing you.
the complex relationship
the wolf, she should be naked.

I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say,
But she is not so nice.
The Bucharest Heavy
her clothes on.

you paint over.
and maybe you’re courting
crazy with your cigarettes.

No, you said worse.
and drank my milk.
Some flowers.
Be careful with them.

“Loneliness is not good”
in this hallway.
of cherry seeds.
the bottom lock.

Spread your legs.
They’re woolen.
The water’s not running.
I’m the fool for getting involved.

Place your hands
This is a 12 caliber.
It’s expired.
Brasov, minus 2 degrees.

The key…
Kiss you.
the threshold.
but we’d only be raising dust.

The air…
For 3 months…
he pulled out a hatful
Don’t give her any. She’s allergic to it,

If you run out of paper,
I’ll give you some
peace of mind.
you could let her stay a bit more.

“A sad life is never helpful”
living in Bucharest,
Tap water is riddled with


Idi i Smotri


This is my family.
toothpaste, shoe-polish, soap,
A couple of rounds in the air
Our sacred war of faith.
Very cryptically drawn.

To love… to have children…
I got no time to waste talking
As for crying, there’s already enough
Let it soak through.
The devil is not so black

Hold still, my dear.
You’re deaf and blind.
Your doors squeak.
Soft like a baby’s hair.
We had one like you who got drowned.

You don’t hear birds singing.
I exist…
I burned…
I want to love.
I’ve got only one sheet of film.

At least rip out his tongue.
Like a big and surging wave.
It must be the beavers howling.
Only it makes him cry in his sleep.
And at funerals.

Have you no heart?
A shrapnel, as big as a fist!
Everybody’s howling today.
what a siege means.
He’s the one who said: “Leave

The one who was half deaf.
Poured gasoline over me…
Nurse, water…



Summer Palace


These hallucinations
A mirror held up to the face of God.
Carrying my heavy shell
Seeing her so resolved,

to see my goodness, my tenderness.
last night’s misery again,
As soon as love touches you,

You have a lighter, but no light.
my heart’s emotions
Bitter tears of despair
You’re soaking.

She said love is like a wound
Climbing bravely upwards
I lost consciousness.
I came across a picture

You came into my life.
Nonchalance and coldness.
Tears streamed down my face,
I shut my eyes tight

The memories brought tears,
dark clouds glower overhead,
Because deep inside,
Will be weightless

I love watching girls smoke.
but inside me,
Is somewhere by the water
Bitter tears of despair

the deep and the shallow end.
both faces together.
I don’t know what to write.
I don’t see the face of a young girl.

The reeds are deepest green
Alone and without purpose.
Complex desires.

A distant name.
I heard her whisper good-bye,
They say your heart’s been broken,
Those lethal things.



Like Water for Chocolate


I bought you this yarn.

You’ve recovered
from a lover’s breath.
chopped finely.

how lovely you’ll look
you can let your tears flow,
Mine never come out like her’s.

Weeping was the first symptom
full of white flowers…
she’d swallowed them…

I noticed you like to knit.
fatherless and without milk
in the filthy river of sin.

The candle can be anything:
A sense of melancholy
steamed milk…
a stray bullet…
a caress…

this sexual encounter was
a melody, a word…
The devil’s dog.

The heat that invaded her
flare of a match…
I lost my virginity.
Hurry back.

The rose smell…
of such radiance…
impossible to sleep.
She’s completely deaf.

gaze on her bare shoulders…
until she finished the quilt
knitted and cried
inside her mother’s womb
and the water had evaporated,

make us see a radiant tunnel…
untouched by love’s fire…
with a box of matches inside.
But no crying.
she left me when she died.

we need oxygen
thyme, laurel,
blood in this house…
the smell of her kitchen…
And not a single tear.



One Wonderful Sunday


Can you hear?
I want to take my words back
the cherry trees blossomed.
All is black now.

my dreams.
No sunshine.
A Sunday photo.
Be careful, they will hurt you.

This bird is unhappy.
It can survive by eating paper, so easy.
We’ll see each other next Sunday.

Come over here.
Please don’t make such a sorrowful face.
Please come after me.
But you keep being silent all the time.

My fortunate feeling is all over.
Everyone dreams.
as guarantees.
So we say goodbye here.

Please clap your hands.
Please imagine beautiful dreams for us.
Why did you stop?
In order to blow away the cold wind.

I am a stray dog.
A pig in the lion’s cage.
Dreams can’t make your belly full.
Does your wrist hurt?

The times have changed,
Vertical letters are sharper.
I have a talent for making coffee.
So I had to leave.

The shop will be called ‘Wind Letter’
No, my entire body.
it will only make you feel sad.
Only poor men know the importance

You are too romantic.
I remember our first date.
She has her reasons.
Unfinished Symphony.

Tonight is the most beautiful night
I don’t want to leave you this way.
All I have left is you.
The curtain is blue.


Days of Being Wild


There was a bird…
I wonder what she’s doing now
…I’ve forgot everything

A woman comes out of nowhere
Which lied and flied until it died
it slept in the wind

I always tell myself
from the hospital,
“My heart is broken…”

Are you afraid of missing your ship?
I wanted to be a sailor
kill these nights

in your dream
We are almost closed,
Take off your slippers

my dream last night
my Christian name
I think there’s more you’ve stolen

I won’t know who I love
I may be lost too
Will you marry me?

Sir, are you alone?
This kind of bird
You are cheating yourself

to kill a night with her
my eyes when I die
This is your dream

Maybe I will never see her again
a prostitute before
Why don’t you talk?

I’ll hate myself if I go back again
But I’ve memorized this guy
picked up from the garbage




She forgets the time
her rebellion against her sadness
strong as love.

He loved the beautiful one too much
a boxer, an industrialist, and a poet
whose triumphs have not reduced loneliness.

her spirit surprisingly obsessed
for fear of the murmurings
Unable to sing tonight

The body has been lost in the water
the slander curiously spreads.
… unexpected music … hateful

He loved the beautiful, too
and the magic of modern science
they are playing with fire

Waiting …


Masculin FĂ©minin


It’s difficult to explain
Give me time to dream a while
Don’t you like being in love?

Have you seen that girl again?
…present in light and shadow…
…everything secret, caressing,

This wasn’t the film we’d imagined…
Here on Earth, the cruelest star,
you’ve lied to me once more

Photographs, I mean
He poured petrol over himself
The images seemed old and flickery;

Love, love… in the man’s heart
What I wanted to say was:

Finally, the fleur-de-lys panties
He should have been more careful;

– An article on Bob Dylan
It’s not about desire or the blues
She’s not singing about love

I want to live with you
For me, sexuality involves the skin.

You broke my heart completely
Do you often fall in love?
…speaking with your own mouth,

Yes, I’d really like to sleep with you
O.K., but hands off, then
The light dims

…the screen would light up
…through injections
I’ve a whole lot of photographs

To see life, to really see it,
Your hair, eyes, nose, mouth, hands…

Still thinking about her?
Leave me with my unhappiness
I can’t; I was meaning to tell you

And my love is in the sea, in dreams
It’s the sub-titled version
It’s the echo; I can’t hear

I hear running footsteps
I love sham, I love lies,
but it was all in vain


The Sacrifice

01_The Sacrifice, 1986, Andrei Tarkovsky, image courtesy of Kino Lorber_0

My dear girl…
We had no map with us,
I’ve waited for this all my life.

they don’t love in the same way.
when darkness had fallen
because they are blind…

You keep going on about truth.
and watered the withered tree
Things that are unexplainable

He climbed up the mountain
And your eyes were full of tears.
water in the wells,

Your voice is so weak.
amidst the ruined garden
so close to the sea.

Her hair was unbelievably lovely.
a kind of present for you.
Yes, I did. I fell.

She came from Iceland
She was still alive in those days.
We hope, we lose hope,

someone else inside me, saying:
Don’t you want all of this
You must go to her and convince her.

and lie with her.
on a mountainside
that binds me to life…

I’m sort of a collector.
But those tears meant nothing.
The war ended. She moved to another

Where had all the beauty gone?
Anyway, I looked out the window
and married another.

stroke of the clock,
– and a son he adores.
He began to cry.