Ion Mircea

Death in Dream

 Shall we speak sometime with the intensities of St. Francis with the birds?

Plague was spreading in dream, and for three days my fear had frightened all the surrounding villages.

But the despot remained a despot both in dream and in our time of plague.

O, when my hatred knew no bounds

and I would have strangled him myself, with these hands,

I awakened and was born.

The windows were thrown open to the walls

and the room became infused with the incense of fresh timber, recently planed.

I say to you, God, to die in dream is the purest seeding in others,

in others who look back at you with your own eyes

and see death in dream.

                                                                                    translated by

                                                                                    Adam J. Sorkin and Liliana Ursu

Light Is Law

 Only in dream is it light beyond night’s power;

never, never is it dark in dream.

I’m speaking to you, equator of the sun.

Nowhere in the world have I found salvation,

nowhere in the world, peace—

as though the whole of the world were one word.

Only in dream

do trees turn in a flash to stone,

before the rustle of their leaves fades, hushed.

Only there, light is law,

and law, light,

just as the Africans’ God is black,

but their devils white.  Never,

never is it dark in dream.

Nor in truth

does the sun ever copper its skin.

                                                                        translated by

                                                                        Adam J. Sorkin and Liviu Cotrău