Just a new World War

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual text: English, Italian and Romanian languages

half-evangelists, half-priests, bearers of leaflets in mailboxes
half-judges, the cleaners of cesspools and porters, brokers, traveling salesmen, whores,
false singers and non-poets, miserable speculators,
mushroomed a tinkling bustle in the bladder of this city
in the lungs of the slums, into my bones scratched as the trees
with the skew passing of the years
just a new World War could purify this breed, by burning
then, from the ashes it could make an another Prometheus
which would set fire to the gods of plastic, of silicon and cardboard

Soltanto una guerra mondiale
Semi-evangelizzatori, mezzo-preti, portatori di volantini nelle cassette postali
semi-giudici, pulitori di fosse biologiche e facchini, brokeri, commessi viaggiatori, puttane,
falsi cantanti e non-poeti miseri speculatori,
in un tintinnante via vai nella vescica di questa città
nei polmoni delle baraccopoli, nelle mie ossa graffiati come gli alberi
con passare di lato dagli…

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Do you believe in awards?…

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual text: English, Italian and Romanian

A drop of soul glided on a cheek unseen by the mirrors
A thread of souls trickles on mysterious brook
A stream of souls descends among the willows
A river of souls embracing the earth
A sea of souls washes in streams the quadrants
An ocean of souls is the spirit of the earth
How many people does it take to be a world?

Credi nei premi?…
Una goccia d’anima scivola sulla guancia invisibile agli specchi
Un filo di anime scorre verso un ruscello misterioso
Un ruscello di anime scende tra i salici
Un fiume di anime abbraccia la terra
Un mare di anime sta lavando in torrenti i quadranti
Un oceano di anime è lo spirito della terra
Quante persone ci vuole per essere un mondo?

Crezi în premii?…
Un strop de suflet lunecă pe un obraz nevăzut de oglinzi
Un fir de…

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Compelling needs

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual text: English, Italian and Romanian

People need of things
of words, of poetry, of other people
only to retrieval of themselves
Each of us is lost in the immensity of the Ego
and uses everything for this purpose…
The Ego exists, loves, discovers and brings forward
The vain

Necessità imperiose
La gente ha bisogno delle cose
delle parole, di poesia, di altre persone
soltanto per ritrovare se stesso
Ognuno di noi si perde nell’immensità dell’Ego
utilizzando qualsiasi cosa per trovarsi…
L’Ego esiste, ama, scopre e …porta avanti
l’invano

Imperioase nevoi
Oamenii au nevoie de lucruri
de cuvinte, de poezie, de ceilalți oameni
doar pentru regăsirea Sinelui
Fiecare dintre noi este rătăcit în imensitatea lui
și folosește orice pentru aceasta…
Egoul există, iubește, descoperă și …duce mai departe
zadarul

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Readout of Emil Cioran

valeriu dg barbu

more biographical:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emil_Cioran

Trilingual text: English, Italian and Romanian

I guess I have never missed an opportunity to be sad
At the doomsday will be weighed only tears
More resist the sanctity; more is evidence that our instincts have excellent health
We believe in God only to avoid the tormenting monologue of loneliness
God is the positive expression of nothing
With a little care, we could make God happier. But we have abandoned him, and he is now more alone that before the world began

Leggendo Emil Cioran
Credo di non avere mai perso un’occasione di essere triste
Al giudizio finale saranno pesate soltanto le lacrime
Più resistiamo alla santità più forniamo prova che i nostri istinti hanno ottima salute
Si crede in Dio soltanto per evitare il monologo tormentoso della solitudine
Dio è l’espressione positiva del niente
Con un po’ di premura, avremmo potuto rendere Dio più felice. Ma…

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Dilettantes…

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual text: English, Italian and Romanian

Nobody recognizes that it is dilettante in the verb to be
We all believe us the specialists in life, in death, in something
And the coolest we like to provide the advice, especially in love
If we give up all the worries that troubles us
And to we learn again to wonder us
All responses could fall within us naturally
Even in the absence of a trite question

Dilettanti
Nessuno riconosce che è un dilettante nel verbo essere
Tutti ci crederemo specialisti nella vita, nella morte, in qualcosa
E di più ci piace dare consigli soprattutto nell’amore
Se rinunceremo a tutte le preoccupazioni che ci inquieta
E imparare di nuovo a meravigliarci
Tutte le risposte scenderebbero in noi naturalmente
Anche in assenza della più banale domanda

Diletanți…
Nimeni nu-și recunoaște diletantismul verbului a fi
Toți ne credem specialiști în viață, în moarte, în ceva
Și…

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Too many the Self in a body so poor

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual text: English, Italian and Romanian

A soul in a vacuum, a soul in grams, a waste to much,
You cannot claim to have roots if you aspire to have wings
Misunderstandings accompany you to the heights
And not even Death might make you something while climbs

Longings bulk, longings in bunch as a shrub
Winnows the years, anonymous trajectory
The sky does not know of the loneliness the depths
Your birth seems unnecessary in an obsolete century

Soul in vain on a wasteland, full of incense
How can live so many the Self in a body so poor
Which cover it too many weaknesses?
Who among the Self is real, who for Death open the door?

Troppi Sé in un povero corpo
Anima sottovuoto, anima a grami, uno spreco pure,
Non puoi pretendere di avere radici se aspiri ad avere le ali
Incomprensibilità ti accompagna verso le alture
E…

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Drunkenness

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual text: English, Italian and Romanian

We cried together apparent for no reason
The tears they surprised us with an open mouth to kiss
And so we got terribly drunk
each within his trap called remoteness
We laughed together, this time even without reason
The tears they surprised us with an open mouth to kiss
And so we got terribly drunk
each within his trap called… too – near
We are so fragile, whatever we get drunk, especially
the expectations of open mouths for the kiss never touched
For so much crying, laughing, the our cheeks has manufactured the serial wrinkles
I wanted to write you all these between the wrinkles with the lips
Then you to read between the lines, but
,,the remoteness,, and the ,,too – near,, is the same thing, and
my lips are now cemented
as a group of statues unfinished or as a tomb

Ubriachezze

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Just now

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual text: English, Italian and Romanian

Scroll the collar of soul and bite the hand of bearer of bread
You would hesitate because you do not believe in destiny
Your biography is written wrongheaded, upside down
The fear emphasizes, the vanity puts crooked accents
The faith corrects with red, the disease crumples the sheets
Love erases everything and now, only now, you do not understand
What’s the writing, the bread, the destiny, the in vain…
The teeth remain as the only anchor in reality
Expanding the impossible …and how not to bite!…

Solo ora
Arrotoli colletto dell’anima e mordi la mano al portatore del pane
Esiteresti perché non credi nel destino
La tua biografia è scritta all’incontrario, capovolta
La paura sottolinea, l’orgoglio mette storti accenti
La fede corregge in rosso, la malattia accartoccia i fogli
L’amore cancella tutto e ora, solo ora, non capisci
A cosa serve la scrittura, il…

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The Stranger

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual text: English, Italian and Romanian

Give me a sign to I can follow you
I do not have your speed or your wings – said the body toward
The Self wanderer
I only have a moment in advance; I’m here, the inner shadow –
Replied The Self deeply moved
From somewhere, as a fresh fright or healing
Appeared a mirror and this mirrored a third, a stranger…

Lo straniero
Dammi un segno per seguirti
Non ho le tue velocità né le tue ali – disse il corpo verso
il Sé errante
Ho soltanto un attimo come anticipo, sono qui, l’ombra interna –
replicò il Sé commosso
Da qualche parte, come un fresco spavento o guarigione
Apparve uno specchio che rispecchiò un terzo, uno straniero

Străinul
Mai lasă-mi un semn să-ți pot de urmă
Nu am vitezele nici aripile tale – zise trupul către
Sinele hoinar
Am doar o clipă…

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Too we want …

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual text: English, Italian and Romanian

Motto: ,,do not wanting you the death of your enemies today
Tomorrow they could become reliable allies in other wars,,
Soon it will be a cruel war against indifference
Because increasingly are prefiguring that we will be
runaways, as the snails without shells –
Behold… The Earth as it crumbles and we want just money,
we want just purchasing power for illusions…

Troppo si vuole…
Motto: ,,non desiderare la morte dei tuoi nemici di oggi
Domani potrebbero diventare alleati affidabili in altre guerre,,
Presto sarà una guerra crudele contro l’indifferenza
perché sempre più si sta prefigurando che saremo
fuggiaschi, come le lumache senza conchiglie –
Ecco… La Terra come si sbriciola e vogliamo soltanto soldi,
vogliamo soltanto il potere d’acquisto per le illusioni

Prea vrem…
Motto: ,,Nu dori moartea dușmanilor tăi de astăzi
Mâine ei ar putea deveni aliați de nădejde în alte războaie,,

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Next stop

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual text: English, Italian and Romanian

everything is fully simulated, nothing is left alive
The world does not exist from longtime,
All this cream is artificial:  sweet hates, soluble loves,
baits as decorations – packing of Ego round, but not perfect …
the norm of the normal imposed, induced
even death is not natural
Death is a clone of: cosmetics, neon, awnings
I suspect that even the birth is just a game of mirrors
we chewed illusions spray, we drinked smoke spray
clothed with mottled shadows
every faith, every act of pure art,
each axiom, any ideas, all are thrown in your bag
to be clown from the God of Money
the last poet, a couple of centuries ago, has left us
went to collect stars like flowers and then close them in the herbaria
that you do not know
the last mad ago selfless ascetic with Saturn’s ring on…

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obsolete eternities… or proverbs of low-frequency

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual text: English, Italian and Romanian

The struggle for the Progress has become a tradition, a conservatism, in the name of progress must lay down its weapons…
The Nonsense that produce stupor become works of art, therefore, the endeavor to amaze is a chore of idiots!…
The ideas are the sweat of mind and still do not manufactures antiperspirants about it, just you take in a mockery a brain awake until the annihilation…
Ah, the smell of the night: seeds bursting, coagulated blood and fire young, placentas still wet and the eyes burned in the short circuiting of insomnia…
In what waters bathe themselves the angels!… Tears of gratitude and compassion, then it rains and our wheat is going to sprout again…
All living beings in the universe have in common the pain, the struggle and the fall in absolute…
God has feelings, and so even the whims / God…

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Everything …is between

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual text: English, Italian and Romanian

two stains of color almost identical,
one blue, the other, dark blue rather
First, it saw they in the air and you are loved
here, on the sea of emerald
looking, humble and serene at the shore immense sand…
there, in peak of sunset
scans the high sky to be stretched with the wing, still fragile
here, there, not – between, are the people, a motley mix of pain and pride
the stone of night, finding the stains, and to crushed the contour shade and the core,
it faded they … but, colors have the echo, yes, yes, them have
what it they see yesterday, now filling alive peace in around
between-step, between beating of wings, between night-day
between-eyelids to rebuilding the world
and do not be surprised by where there is so much blue round

due macchie di colore quasi identicche,
una blu…

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A terrible race of longings

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual text: English, Italian and Romanian

The fingers of the wind fondling the longings
The infirmities take deep roots in the hostile soil
It flourished the wet eyelids and I see myself willow
here, on the only side of the river of the imperious need of oblivion
And as the ray that can no longer return
Not even the sound again in the flesh of the instrument
I let myself be nibbled to exhaustion and not-I hope to all pointless reincarnations

Una terribile razza di nostalgia
Le dita del vento accarezzano le nostalgie
Le incapacità prendono radici profonde nei suoli ostili
Mi fioriscono umido le palpebre e mi vedo salice
qui, sull’unica riva del fiume dell’imperioso bisogno dell’oblio
E come il raggio che non può più tornare
Neppure il suono di nuovo nella carne dello strumento
Mi lascio rosicchiato a esaurimento e non-spero a tutte le inutili reincarnazioni

O rasă…

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Cold intimate

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual text: English, Italian and Romanian

Have you ever had the feeling that
Your body is a bowl and the Self is the goldfish?
That inside you one is silent and the other
speaks, speaks continuously for fear of death?
A kind of intimate cold it radiates, as though the seasons
are definitive closed in you and that the only way out is
the prayer?

Freddo interiore
Hai mai avuto la sensazione che
Il tuo corpo è una boccia e il tuo Sé è il pesce rosso?
Che dentro di te uno tace e l’altro
parla, parla continuamente di paura della morte?
Una sorta di freddo interiore irradia come se le stagioni
sono definitivamente chiusi in te e che l’unica via d’uscita è
la preghiera?

Frig interior
Ai avut vreodată senzația că
trupul tău este un bol iar sinele peștișorul?
Că înăuntrului tău unul tace iar celălalt
vorbește, vorbește continuu…

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