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Pastel

Pastel

Ana Blandiana

Pastel

My country deprived of fruit,
abandoned by leaves,
abandoned by the grapes
migrated prudently in wine.
My country betrayed by the birds
somersaulted in haste
in the wondering yet still clear sky,

forever content,
smelling of grasses
that pass away in the melting sun,
faithful spiders
weaving white webs
to bind up
the place of leaf, empty.

At night, baked stars
ferment your sky,
the wind flows the day
strong and bitter.
The hours measure your
walnuts falling
and light you
quinces decently.

Ţara mea părăsită de fructe,
Părăsită de frunze.
Părăsită de strugurii
Emigraţi prevăzători în vin,
Ţara mea trădată de păsările
Rostogolite în grabă
Pe cerul mirat şi încă senin,

Veşnic împăcată,
Mirosind a ierburi
Care-şi dau sfârşitu-n soarele domol,
Credincioşi păianjeni
Ţes pânzeturi albe
Ca să bandajeze
Locul frunzei, gol.

Noaptea stele coapte-ţi
Fermentează cerul,
Vântul curge ziua
Tare şi-amărui,
Orele-ţi măsoară
Nucile căzând
Şi te luminează
Cuviincios gutui.

Daria Florea


NOTE: This poem first appeared in the Australian e-magazine Mascara Review.

Translation