Constantin Preda
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    • Nichita Stanescu >
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      • *** (to Laura)
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Love, young lioness

Love, young lioness
jumped forth in front of me.
It had waylaid me tensely 
for a while.
She drove her white fangs in my face
it bit me, the lioness, today, by the face

And suddenly, around me, nature,
became a circle, tumbling over itself
sometimes larger, sometimes closer
like the grasp of waters.
And sight gushed upwards
a sliced in two rainbow
and hearing came across it
far, by the skylarks

I put my hand to the brow
to my temple and to my chin
but the hand does not recall them,
and it slides unknowingly
onto a desert, glistening
over which, slowly walks
an auburn lioness
with movements shrewd
for a time
and for yet another time…
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  • Home
  • Poetry
    • Days of Red
    • A Veteran
    • Why are they laughing
    • A drink with Tom about old masters and young mistresses
    • Antwerp Scene
    • Suddenly, early
    • Metonymy
    • The Sauntering Step
    • On Second Thought
    • Listening to November
    • Apprenticeship
  • Poetry in Translation
    • Nichita Stanescu >
      • To bend light
      • Song
      • Old song for new moon
      • Sad Love Song
      • Love, young lioness
      • *** (to Laura)
      • Through the orange tunnel
    • Mircea Cartarescu >
      • When You Need Love
      • The Collision
      • Adieu! In Buharest
      • The West
  • Articles
  • Biography
  • Contact