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      • My mind's not right by Dr. Vicky Gilpin >
        • Chapter- 1 Dr. Vicky Gilpin
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      • On Poetry & Poets by Abhay K.
      • Poetry of Kamla Das –A True Voice Of Bourgeoisie Women In India by Dr.Shikha Saxena
      • Identity Issues in the Poetry of Nissim Ezekiel by Dr.Arvind Nawale & Prashant Mothe*
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      • The Moping Owl : the Epitome of Melancholy by Zinia Mitra
      • Gary Soto’s Vision of Chicano Experiences: The Elements of San Joaquin and Human Nature by Paula Hayes
      • Sri Aurobindo: A Poet By Aju Mukhopadhyay
      • Wordsworthian Romanticism in the Poetry of Jayanta Mahapatra: Nature and the Reflective Capabilities of a Poetic Self by Paula Hayes
      • Reflective Journey of T.S. Eliot: From Philosophy to Poetry by Syed Ahmad Raza Abidi
      • North East Indian Poetry: ‘Peace’ in Violence by Ananya .S. Guha
    • 2014-2015 >
      • From The Hidden World of Poetry: Unravelling Celtic mythology in Contemporary Irish Poetry Adam Wyeth
      • Alchemy’s Drama: Conflict, Resolution and Poiesis in the Poetic Work of Art by Michelle Bitting
      • Amir Khushrau: The Musical Soul of India by Dr. Shamenaz
      • PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME: POETRY'S EROTIC ART by Elena Karina Byrne
      • Celtic and Urban Landscapes in Irish Poetry by Linda Ibbotson
      • Trickster at the African Crossroads and the Bridge to the Blues in America by Michelle Bitting
    • 2015-2016 >
      • Orogeny/Erogeny: The “nonsense” of language and the poetics of Ed Dorn T Thilleman
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      • Children’s Poetry in India- A Case Study of Adil Jussawalla and Ananya Guha by Shruti Sareen
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      • From Self-Portrait with Dogwood: A Route of Evanescence by Christopher Merrill
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      • On the Poets: Contributors in Context by Donald Gardner
      • Punching above its Weight: Dutch Poetry in English, a Selection, 2013-2017 by Jane Draycott
  • Print Editions

Poems by ​Simona Popescu

​MY LIFE
 
My life?
Ce să-i spun despre mine?
 
16 ani. Eu am venit pe lume ca să nu înţeleg nimic.
17 ani: vocea din spatele ghişeului
mîna întinsă biletul
şi.-apoi pe ecran o prostie lată:
Tinereţea învinge totul! (şi toate tinereţea).
18 ani. Şi mă întreabă într-o zi că de ce scriu ce rost are... că...
de ce... pentru cine... ăştia
n-au timp nici de ei... şi. nici nu vor.... şi. nici. nu-i interesează…
Am o faţă tînără şi una bătrînă şi unii o ştiu pe una şi alţii pe cealaltă.
19. Căci spuneţi voi ce să fac
să ştiu ce să nu fac
şi spuneţi voi ce să spun
ca să ştiu ce să nu spun.
Merg înainte cum cred eu chit că
dau cu capul de zid şi dau cu capu de zid…
20. Prietenii sînt buni şi duşmanii răi
măsură ordine şi armonie
care va trăda
care se va metamorfoza
care va fi scos de la inima ta?
21. Mi-e milă de neputinţa poeziei
O lămîie stoarsă în faţa tribului sătul.
Nu avem nici o ţintă, amice
Trecut al tuturor
Patrie a tuturor
Ce-a fost verde s-a uscat
Ce-a fost dulce s-a mîncat.
22. Nu mi-e foame nu mi-e sete
dar simt un gol
în stomac.
Mi-e tare urît.
23. Tinereţea mea a fost făcută pentru aşteptare.
Maturitatea te va-nşfăca
n-ai încotro
lasă-i pe mînă doar pielea ta!
24. Mi-e silă de precocitatea ofilită
mi-e scîrbă de senzaţiile literare…
Cine din noi spunea: “Avem nevoie de un erou”?
Ai acum 24
Ce vor înţelege progeniturile noi?
[...]
25. Cocujo.
Nu ştiu nimic să spun
nu pot să mă adun
şi inima şi creierul îmi sînt străine.
Sînt încă un om tînăr
Simt ca o femeie şi ca un bărbat
Scriu ca o femeie şi ca un bărbat
Simt ca un copil ticălos şi nevinovat
Sînt fără vîrstă
Mă apăr cum pot
Vorbind despre mine despre nimic despre tot.
26. Matrioşka, matrioşka
spune căte păpuşele mai sînt la rînd ?
Ai în miezul tău oare şi păpuşa cea mai bătrînă ?
E acolo zbîrcită senină lipsită de frică
Matrioşka cea mai mică
babă-copilă de care ţi-e de pe-acum aşa milă?
27. Ai grijă ca o mamă de copilul… care ai fost.
28. Mă uit la o carte arabă, cu începutul la sfîrşit.
29 O dorinţă bruscă şi-apoi tot mai intensă să se termine cu mine!
30. Timpul se buclează. Corpul şi-aduce aminte. Ţin în braţe un balon mare şi galben. Îmi pun obrazul pe el. Înăuntru e linişte. Înăuntru se află închisă tăcerea plutitoare pe care eu o ţin acum în braţe. Tăcerea e rotundă şi  are culoarea galbenă. Îi dau drumul în lume.
31. Cei care scriu ca să fie mai buni.
Cei care scriu ca să nu se uite pe ei.
32. Cum trece raza de lună uitată
fecundînd creierul moale şi cald…
şi poemul n-am să-l termin n-am să-l termin n-am să-l termin…
Ce sunt din tot ce-am adunat aici?
Ce sînt din tot ce a rămas pe dinafară?
33. Eu sunt poet prin comportament, mi-a spus odată.
34. Am două inimi în mine. Mi-e bine.
35. Unde e autorul cînd nu mai scrie? Unde e autorul cînd scrie?
36. “Herz Im Kopf”. Inima şi capul sînt împreună, se ţin una de altul, unul de alta. Ochii înghit. Gura tace. Gura tace demult. N-are cu cine vorbi. Dar şi mersul e un fel de vorbit.
37. Am început acest song…
“Cititorule (nu pot să zic lector amice
precum Marţial şi zeci după el
că mi-e ruşine şi nu vreau să crezi
că-ţi fac curte…),
Cititorule, nu ştiu cum să-ncep şi-aş vrea
să fi terminat cu tine deja”…
 
 
MY LIFE
 
 
My life?
What can I tell it about me?
 
At 16. I came into the world to understand nothing.
At 17. the voice behind the window
the hand holds out the ticket
and.—then on the screen, something just stupid:
Youth conquers all! (and all youth).
At 18. One day I wonder why write what’s the point… since…
why… for who… those people
don’t even have time for themselves… and. don’t even want to… and. aren’t even. interested…
Inside me there’s a young girl and an old one and some know one and some the other.
19. Because you tell me what to do
so I will know what not to
and tell me what to say
so I will know what not to.
I proceed the way I know is right by
banging my head against the wall and banging my head…
20. Friends are good and enemies bad
weigh order and harmony
which will betray
which will transform
which will be torn from your heart?
21. I pity the powerlessness of poetry
A lemon wrung for a sated tribe.
We have no plan, amigo
A past for all
A country for all
What was green has withered
What was sweet was eaten.
22. I’m not hungry not thirsty
but I feel empty
in my stomach.
I’m so lonesome.
23. My youth was made for waiting.
Adulthood springs on you
what can you do?
24. I’m fed up with wilted precociousness
I hate literary sensations…
Which one of us was saying “We need a hero”?
You’re 24 now
What will our progeny understand?
[…]
25. I have nothing to say
I’m not a joiner
and my heart and brain seem weird.
I am still a young person
I feel like a woman and like a man
I write like a woman and like a man
I am ageless
I protect myself as I can
Talking about myself about nothing about everything.
26. Russian doll, russian doll
how many of you are there?
Is the one in the middle the oldest?
The wrinkled one calm fearless
The littlest little doll
the baby-baba you feel so sorry for?
27. You’re like a mom taking care of the child… you were.
28. I look at an Arab book, that has the beginning at the end.
29. A sudden desire then even more intense to be done with me!
30. Time curls. The body recalls. I am holding a big, yellow balloon. I put my cheek to it. Inside is quiet. Inside it holds the floating silence I hold in my arms. Silence is round and colored yellow. I release it into the world.
31. Those who write to be better.
Those who write to not be forgotten.
32. The way a forgotten moon-ray
fertilizes a soft, hot brain…
and I won’t finish the poem won’t finish it won’t finish it won’t finish it…
What am I in all I’ve put here?
What am I in all I’ve left out?
33. I am a poet in my manner, someone told me once.
34. I have two hearts. It’s okay.
35. Where is the author when he’s not writing? Where is the author when he is?
36. “Herz Im Kopf.” Heart and head are together, one cares for the other, and the other for one. Eyes swallow. Mouth quiet. Mouth quiet for a while. It has no one to talk to. But walking is also a way of talking.
37. I started this song…
“O reader (I cannot say dear reader, amigo
like Martial and so many after him
because I’m embarrassed and I don’t want you to think
I’m flattering you…),
O reader, I don’t know how to start and I’d rather
be done with you already”…
 
 
(fragments from Lucrări în verde. Pledoaria mea pentru poezie / Works in Green. My Defense of Poetry, Cartea Românească Publishing House, București, 2006, translated by Sean Cotter).
 
 
 

 
2.
 
Sînt un desen de Escher
 
 
Se-mparte fiinţa-n două
la ceasul plictiselii.
Nu „fiinţa”... mai degrabă ceva-nafara ei
un alb învăţător şi-un negru-nvăţător
ca două stranii plante cu rădăcini comune.
 
Percepi contrare unde
şi te-plasezi deasupra
sau cum să spun mai bine? – paralel.
 
Nu sînt cuvinte 
ci doar adverse
ce te dispută
prompt:
 
           Învaţă, -ţi spun!                    Ce rost are să-nveţi?
          
           Ia-o la stînga!                       La dreapta să o iei!
         
           Acum e timpul. Pleacă!       De ce n-ai sta pe loc?
          
            Să nu spui ne-adevăr!          Dar adevărul ce-i?
          
            Rămîi cu toate-aproape!      Desparte-te de tot!
          
            Ca prieteni să-ţi rămînă       De ţi-au greşit sau le-ai greşit
          
            să ai răbdare-ţi spun!           nu-i chip de împăcare!
          
            Tu află-n umilinţă puterea   Nu te-arăta smerit
            ca să creşti!                          şi ţine-i la distanţă!
         
            Să nu uiţi de trecut!             De vrei să-ncepi ceva, să uiţi!
          
           Aşteaptă,                               Ce să aştepţi? Şi cît?
           dar luînd la tot aminte!         Şi de la cine?
          
           Ascultă şi-ncearcă               S-asculţi pe nătăfleţ?
           să-nveţi ce are preţ!             Să-ţi bagi în minte măsura lor?
         
           Părînd a fi aproape              Cum ţii să stai departe
           tu ţine-te deoparte!               Fereşte-te de-aproape!
          
           Și laudă                                Ce laudă s-aduci şi cui
           puterea viului!                      la marginea pustiului?
  
 
cum stau aşa la intersecţii
holbîndu-mă la albele şi negrele indicatoare
sînt un desen de Escher din care nu mai ies
mă tot despart de mine şi iar mă întîlnesc
îmi intru-n piele mă depăşesc mă uit în spate
carcase goale 
structuri exuviale
iar înainte forme (asemănătoare?).
Îmi pregătesc ieşirea din uniplan.
 
 
 
 

 
I Am an Escher Print                       
 
 
My being splits into two
at the hour of boredom.
Not “being” … but something outside it
a sententious-white and a sententious-black
like two strange plants with common roots.
 
You perceive contrary waves
and place yourself above
or how should I say it? – parallel.
 
They are not words
but only oppositions
that promptly
challenge you:
 
You have to learn.                              What good is it to learn?
 
Go left!                                               Go right!
 
It’s time! Just leave!                           Why wouldn’t you stay here?
 
Don’t tell untruths!                             And what is truth, I ask?
 
Stay close to everything!                    From everything you steer away!
 
Have patience I tell you,                    Whether they’ve wronged you or vice versa
so that you keep your friends!                        there’s no way to make up!
 
Find in humility,                                 Don’t show yourself distraught
the power to keep growing!                and keep them at a distance!
 
And don’t forget the past!                  For always to begin you must forget!            
                                                                                                               
Wait!   Wait!                                                   What are you waiting for? And for how long?
And make note of all!                         And from whom?
And from whom?
 
Listen and state                                   Listen to the nitwit?
what has a price!                                 To see through their eyes?
                                                                                                                                               
Seeming to offer assistance                As you seek to stay away
keep yourself at a distance!                Avoid what nearer finds its way!                                                                                                      
And praise                                           Who and what should you praise
the power of the living!                      At the edge of the desert’s blaze?
 
 
As I stand, like this, at intersections
gawking at the black and white signs
I am an Escher print from which I can’t escape
I split from myself and find myself again
I walk into my skin I pass myself I look back
the coccoons ruptured
the exuvial structures
what before were resembling shapes.
I prepare my exit from the uniplane.
 
 
 
(fragment from Night or Day, Paralela 45 Publishing House, București, 1999, translated by Carla Baricz and Simona Popescu.)
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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​Simona Popescu is a poet, prose writer and essayist. She is currently teaching contemporary Romanian literature and creative writing at the University of Bucharest (Faculty of Letters). She published five volumes of poetry (the latest, Work in Green. My Plea for Poetry, has been partly translated in French and German, and published in Luxembourg); a novel, Exuviae (now in its seventh edition, it was translated into Polish, Hungarian and French); a collection of essays, and two books of critifiction about the Romanian surrealist poet Gellu Naum. Her books have been awarded several prizes and  her work was included in numerous anthologies published in Romania and abroad. In 2005 she was invited to represent Romanian literature as part of the Les Belles Étrangères event organised by the French Ministry of Culture.

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  • Home
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    • Contact
    • Media Coverages
    • Copyright Notice
    • VerseVille Blog
  • Submissions
    • Poetry and Essays Guidelines
    • Book Review Guidelines
    • Research Series Guidelines
  • Masthead
  • Editions
    • 2011 Issues >
      • ISSUE-XIV November 2011
    • 2012 Issues >
      • ISSUE-XV March 2012
      • ISSUE-XVI July 2012
      • ISSUE-XVII November 2012
    • 2013 Issues >
      • ISSUE-XVIII April 2013
      • ISSUE XIX November 2013
    • 2014 Issues >
      • ISSUE XX May 2014
    • 2015 Issues >
      • ISSUE XXI February 2015
      • Contemporary Indian English Poetry ISSUE XXII November 2015
    • 2016 Issues >
      • ISSUE XXIII August 2016
      • Poetry From Ireland ISSUE XXIV December 2016
    • 2017 ISSUES >
      • ISSUE XXV August 2017
      • ISSUE XXVI December 2017
    • 2018 ISSUES >
      • ISSUE XXVII July 2018
      • ISSUE XXVIII November 2018
    • 2019 Issues >
      • ISSUE XXIX July 2019
    • 2020 ISSUES >
      • Issue XXX February 2020
      • ISSUE XXXI December 2020
  • Collaborations
    • Macedonian Collaboration
    • Collaboration with Dutch Foundation for Literature
  • Interviews
  • Prose on Poetry and Poets
    • 2010-2013 >
      • Sylvia Plath by Dr. Nidhi Mehta >
        • Chapter-1(Sylvia Plath)
        • Chapter-2(Sylvia Plath)
        • Chapter-3(Sylvia Plath)
        • Chapter-4(Sylvia Plath)
        • Chapter-5(Sylvia Plath)
        • Chapter-6(Sylvia Plath)
      • Prose Poems of Tagore by Dr. Bina Biswas >
        • Chapter-1(Rabindranath Tagore)
        • Chapter-2(Rabindranath Tagore)
        • Chapter-3(Rabindranath Tagore)
        • Chapter-4(Rabindranath Tagore)
        • Chapter-5(Rabindranath Tagore)
        • Chapter-6(Rabindranath Tagore)
        • Chapter-7(Rabindranath Tagore)
        • Chapter-8(Rabindranath Tagore)
        • Chapter-9(Rabindranath Tagore)
      • Kazi Nazrul Islam by Dr. Shamenaz Shaikh >
        • Chapter 1(Nazrul Islam)
        • Chapter 2(Nazrul Islam)
        • Chapter 3(Nazrul Islam)
      • Kabir's Poetry by Dr. Anshu Pandey >
        • Chapter 1(Kabir's Poetry)
        • Chapter 2(Kabir's Poetry)
        • Chapter 3(Kabir's Poetry)
      • My mind's not right by Dr. Vicky Gilpin >
        • Chapter- 1 Dr. Vicky Gilpin
        • Chapter-2 Dr. Vicky Gilpin
        • Chapter-3 Dr. Vicky Gilpin
        • Chapter-4 Dr. Vicky Gilpin
      • On Poetry & Poets by Abhay K.
      • Poetry of Kamla Das –A True Voice Of Bourgeoisie Women In India by Dr.Shikha Saxena
      • Identity Issues in the Poetry of Nissim Ezekiel by Dr.Arvind Nawale & Prashant Mothe*
      • Nissim Ezekiel’s Latter-Day Psalms: His Religious and Philosophical Speculations By Dr. Pallavi Srivastava
      • The Moping Owl : the Epitome of Melancholy by Zinia Mitra
      • Gary Soto’s Vision of Chicano Experiences: The Elements of San Joaquin and Human Nature by Paula Hayes
      • Sri Aurobindo: A Poet By Aju Mukhopadhyay
      • Wordsworthian Romanticism in the Poetry of Jayanta Mahapatra: Nature and the Reflective Capabilities of a Poetic Self by Paula Hayes
      • Reflective Journey of T.S. Eliot: From Philosophy to Poetry by Syed Ahmad Raza Abidi
      • North East Indian Poetry: ‘Peace’ in Violence by Ananya .S. Guha
    • 2014-2015 >
      • From The Hidden World of Poetry: Unravelling Celtic mythology in Contemporary Irish Poetry Adam Wyeth
      • Alchemy’s Drama: Conflict, Resolution and Poiesis in the Poetic Work of Art by Michelle Bitting
      • Amir Khushrau: The Musical Soul of India by Dr. Shamenaz
      • PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME: POETRY'S EROTIC ART by Elena Karina Byrne
      • Celtic and Urban Landscapes in Irish Poetry by Linda Ibbotson
      • Trickster at the African Crossroads and the Bridge to the Blues in America by Michelle Bitting
    • 2015-2016 >
      • Orogeny/Erogeny: The “nonsense” of language and the poetics of Ed Dorn T Thilleman
      • Erika Burkart: Fragments, Shards, and Visions by Marc Vincenz
      • English Women Poets and Indian politics
    • 2016-2017 >
      • Children’s Poetry in India- A Case Study of Adil Jussawalla and Ananya Guha by Shruti Sareen
      • Thirteen Thoughts on Poetry in the Digital Age by Mandy kAHN
    • 2017-2018 >
      • From Self-Portrait with Dogwood: A Route of Evanescence by Christopher Merrill
      • Impure Poetry by Tony Barnstone
      • On the Poets: Contributors in Context by Donald Gardner
      • Punching above its Weight: Dutch Poetry in English, a Selection, 2013-2017 by Jane Draycott
  • Print Editions