Liliana Ursu
Reverberations
I walked on a path between fir trees.
A hand reached out of the night
holding a plate of raspberries.
At one with their fragrant color,
I devour this small, companion event—
carefully enfold it
inside words to sustain me until
I reach the stars.
The moon rises late, unnaturally
late. She is black
with small signs.
(Translated from the Romanian by the poet with Adam J. Sorkin and Tess Gallagher)
Liliana Ursu
Parallel Events
Oh, the rending of soul from flesh
in the clear river
that flows anonymously
beneath this watery garden.
A wooden bridge lowers across the garden
where an orange tabby steps
one foot at a time into its shadow,
black, blacker.
(Translated from the Romanian by the poet with Adam J. Sorkin and Tess Gallagher)
Liliana Ursu
Messenger
What message do you have for me
and from whom, little bird,
almost fused to the bark of the walnut tree?
Only the blue-gray sky of your collar
reveals where you cling
to the ashes of time
in which I dress myself.
A small straw-thatched
window, moon-like, is lodged
in the fog-shrouded trunk,
and on it, if I gaze through — a book
written with a prayer.
Only one.
Oh, why have you come, bird,
to perch in His light
and sweep the ashes from my path,
turning it blue once more
and full of song?
Sometimes I am the ax
in the lonely woman’s hand. Sometimes
the gnarled strawberry beside her path,
wild and sweet.
(Translated from the Romanian by the poet with Adam J. Sorkin and Tess Gallagher)
