Vama Veche

Se poate sa fie zi...
Se poate sa fie noapte...
Se poate sa fie vara...
La fel cum iarna poate fi.

Nisipul sa fie ud
Iar marea un pic amara
Nisipul sa zgarie lin
Iar marea sa fie murdara.

Vrei soare, soare iti dau
Sau pielea ti-e ruda cu luna
Pe stanci daca vrei te sarut
Sau in apa... mi-e totuna.

Sa pot sa te aleg dintr-o suta
In ochi sa ai inima mea
Sa-ncerc sa ma ascund de iubire
Dar sa nu te mai
Sa nu te mai pot uita

Iar noaptea sa ai pielea uda
Insetata sa tragi din tigara
Pe mare se aude sirena
Al tau san imi mangaie mana.

Povestea merge mai departe
Ca vantul din Vama Veche...
Eu nu pot sa mai continui
Caci eu mi-am gasit pereche.

Povestea merge mai departe
Ca vantul din Vama Veche...
Eu nu pot sa mai continui
Saruta-ma in ureche.

Am plecat la Vama Veche
Ca sa imi gasesc pereche
Am ajuns la Vama Veche
Si sunt apucat de streche
Stau pe plaja-n Vama Veche
Si-am sarutul in ureche
Doar pe plaja-n Vama Veche
Noi totï vom avea pereche.

Versuri "Vama Veche - Vama veche"

The Aleph

“A man sets out to draw the world. As the years go by, he peoples a space with images of provinces, kingdoms, mountains, bays, ships, islands, fishes, rooms, instruments, stars, horses, and individuals. A short time before he dies, he discovers that the patient labyrinth of lines traces the lineaments of his own face.”
― Jorge Luis Borges, The Aleph and Other Stories

Yellow Spring

Yellow

Paste Fericit! Happy Easter!

Nina Cassian - RIP

Nina Cassian, an exiled Romanian poet who sought refuge in the United States after her poems satirizing the regime of President Nicolae Ceausescu fell into the hands of his secret police, died on Monday at her home in Manhattan. She was 89.

Intense, passionate and cleareyed, Ms. Cassian’s poetry often centered on the nature of erotic love and — both before her exile and after — of loss, death and decay. In “Ballad of the Jack of Diamonds,” published in The New Yorker in 1990 in a translation by Richard Wilbur, she wrote:

Nina Cassian read her poetry at Cooper Union in New York in 2003.  

Credit Jennifer S. Altman for The New York Times

Here is the Jack of Diamonds, clad

In the rusty coat he’s always had.

His two dark brothers wish him dead,

As does the third, whose hue is red. ...

One brother, on his breast and sleeves,

Is decked with tragic, spadelike leaves.

The next has crosses for décor.

The motif of the third is gore.

The Jack of Diamonds is dead,

Leaving a vacuum in his stead.

This ballad seems at least twice-told.

Well, all Rumanian plots are old.

By MARGALIT FOX  APRIL 18, 2014

more here : 

The New York Times 

RIP Nina Cassian

'In unele clipe ideale, sunt pasarea maiastra-a lui Brancusi.
Mi-e gatul ca un cast lunecus
pentru mainile tale. '