{"id":2000,"date":"2017-04-19T23:32:54","date_gmt":"2017-04-19T23:32:54","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/?p=2000"},"modified":"2017-04-19T23:34:47","modified_gmt":"2017-04-19T23:34:47","slug":"liviu-ofileanupoezie","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/liviu-ofileanupoezie\/","title":{"rendered":"Liviu Ofileanu\/Poezie"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><img decoding=\"async\" loading=\"lazy\" class=\"alignnone wp-image-2001\" src=\"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/04\/17974149_1383831078322696_824196370_n.jpg\" alt=\"17974149_1383831078322696_824196370_n\" width=\"421\" height=\"421\" srcset=\"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/04\/17974149_1383831078322696_824196370_n.jpg 568w, http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/04\/17974149_1383831078322696_824196370_n-150x150.jpg 150w, http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/04\/17974149_1383831078322696_824196370_n-300x300.jpg 300w, http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/04\/17974149_1383831078322696_824196370_n-210x210.jpg 210w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 421px) 100vw, 421px\" \/><br \/>\n(din volumul \u201erecriminator &#8212; gesturi codificate\u201d)<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>experimentalistul<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<br \/>\nhai, nu te mai g\u00e2ndi mult, las\u0103 \u00een mine, f\u0103-m\u0103 femeie, am creier cu sterilet, zice Ea. \u0219i Ea e ca o fraz\u0103 uria\u0219\u0103, o groap\u0103 neagr\u0103.<br \/>\nca s\u0103 o \u00een\u021belegem, \u00eei punem semne, \u00een special punctul, sf\u00e2r\u0219it acolo unde Ea continu\u0103 f\u0103r\u0103 Noi dincolo de sf\u00e2r\u0219it.<\/p>\n<p>nu oblig\u0103 nimeni pe doi oameni s\u0103 fac\u0103 dragoste. Ei fac dragoste fiindc\u0103 vor s\u0103 fac\u0103 dragoste. abia s-au v\u0103zut \u0219i s-au \u0219i dorit,<br \/>\nau produs copii \u00eenvelindu-se cu frunze. distan\u021ba dintre sughi\u021bul de pl\u00e2ns \u0219i hohotul de r\u00e2s e c\u00e2t un bra\u021b peste um\u0103r.<\/p>\n<p>dar tonul \u00eentreb\u0103rii? glasul tremur\u0103tor? accentul cade str\u00e2mb,<br \/>\ntotul e f\u0103cut ca s\u0103 mai vrei o dat\u0103, ca s\u0103-\u021bi aminte\u0219ti ce n-ai voie s\u0103 ui\u021bi, totu-i la vedere, totul e-afar\u0103, la revedere.<br \/>\ns\u0103 nu \u021bi se fac\u0103 mil\u0103 de tine. a\u0219a te ui\u021bi \u0219i-a doua zi \u00een oglind\u0103,<\/p>\n<p>\u0219i te recuno\u0219ti \u00een fotografia-de-grup, acolo-n spate, \u0103la blurat.<br \/>\nde ce a\u0219a? erau at\u00e2tea metode ca s\u0103 nu. pentru c\u0103 e\u0219ti inteligent<br \/>\n\u0219i nu trebuie s\u0103-mi duc vorbele la cap\u0103t. cum deschizi gura te expui, e un lux pentru care pl\u0103te\u0219ti prin izolare. \u0219i dac\u0103 taci e tot aia.<\/p>\n<p>pentr-un simplu bun\u0103-ziua cheltuie\u0219ti dou\u0103 sc\u00e2ntei \u00eentre sinapse. trebuie s\u0103 doar\u0103 dac\u0103 lipse\u0219ti. dac\u0103 nu, e clar: nici nu erai \u00een poz\u0103 \u2013 pe locul t\u0103u poate sta oricine. acum nu-mi mai pas\u0103.<br \/>\nm\u0103-ntreb omene\u0219te: ce mai faci, b\u0103? dar cine s\u0103 r\u0103spund\u0103?<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<br \/>\n<strong>proiect abandonat (I) viespe<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<br \/>\nimaginez \u00eent\u00e2lniri private cu poe\u021bi de seam\u0103 la o cafea fa\u021b\u0103-n fa\u021b\u0103 \u00een \u021bara unchiului sam. \u00eentre portavioane \u0219i F-116 rotindu-se \u00een jurul becului din sufragerie: duhul beatnicilor \u00een sevraj atemporal,<br \/>\namintirea m\u0103celului din vietnam \u0219i c\u0103derea turnurilor gemene.<\/p>\n<p>\u0219i de la viespi avem ceva de-nv\u0103\u021bat: de pild\u0103, cum se r\u0103coresc Ele c\u00e2nd e-afar\u0103 40. cum scriu dou\u0103 r\u00e2nduri m\u0103 opresc s\u0103 le interpretez:<br \/>\nam un gr\u0103unte de-ndoial\u0103 pentru orice, chiar \u0219i pentru aer \u2013 pentru c\u0103 nu se vede dar se simte, tr\u0103sne\u0219te a pi\u0219at de c\u00e2ine schizofren.<\/p>\n<p>dup\u0103 40 m-am prins c\u0103 totu-i o cacialma, prietenii mei au chint\u0103 spart\u0103 \u0219i-mi z\u00e2mbesc dintr-un careu \u00eenverzit. cu to\u021bii ar dormi mai mult ori de c\u00e2te ori visul se \u00eentinde peste firele de troleibuz.<br \/>\nne trezim \u00eencet, facem conversa\u021bie cu trupuri adormite.<\/p>\n<p>lumea re\u00eencepe s\u0103-\u0219i deteste plozii, s\u0103 zac\u0103 sub mas\u0103. \u0219i aici dai cu magia-n fasole. revin: viespea se las\u0103 \u00een g\u0103leata f\u00e2nt\u00e2nii pe cele opt picioru\u0219e. \u00ee\u021bi bea chipul. te sub\u021biaz\u0103. uite de-aia-s Io a\u0219a tras la fa\u021b\u0103.<br \/>\nam \u0219i-acu&#8217; o g\u00e2lm\u0103 pe ceaf\u0103 \u0219i-ncepe s\u0103 doar\u0103 dac\u0103 m\u0103 g\u00e2ndesc.<\/p>\n<p>orice lucru bine f\u0103cut e f\u0103cut p\u00e2n\u0103 la cap\u0103t. dac\u0103 nu \u0219tim unde-i cap\u0103tu&#8217; \u0103la, asta-i o alt\u0103 poveste. s\u0103 tr\u0103ie\u0219ti e-o treab\u0103 suportabil\u0103 dar nepl\u0103tit\u0103. c\u00e2nd revin la cartea mea constat c\u0103 imagina\u021bia autorului e varz\u0103. \u0219i m\u0103 pun pe scris la o alta \u2013 m\u0103 pricep la sf\u00e2r\u0219ituri.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<br \/>\n<strong>oxigen<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<br \/>\nunii vor spune acelea\u0219i bancuri \u0219i tot Ei vor r\u00e2de primii, \u00eenainte de poant\u0103. pentru c\u0103 nu poanta-n sine \u00eei face s\u0103 r\u00e2d\u0103, ci mutra celui ce-i ascult\u0103. c\u00e2nd facem, \u00een sf\u00e2r\u0219it, ceva c\u00e2t-de-c\u00e2t bine, o facem dintr-un reflex dob\u00e2ndit. \u0219i dac\u0103 pentr-un simplu bun\u0103-ziua se pun \u00een mi\u0219care<\/p>\n<p>o groaz\u0103 de senzori, dac\u0103 pentru at\u00e2ta lucru se omoar\u0103 creierul,<br \/>\nc\u00e2te calcule face \u00een ultima zi? \u00eemi spun s\u0103 fac totul bine, exact ca-n prima zi. sunt mereu atent la nuan\u021be, r\u0103pit de puterea sentimentelor. nici nu plec de-acas\u0103 \u00eentr-un loc \u0219i sunt deja acolo,<\/p>\n<p>a\u0219tept\u00e2nd ca s\u0103 m\u0103-ntorc. mu\u021benia e un lux de clasa-nt\u00e2ia.<br \/>\n\u0219i ce faci dac\u0103: dac\u0103 ajungi \u00eentr-un loc dificil cu aerul rarefiat.<br \/>\nce s\u0103 faci, deschizi tubu&#8217; la maxim, \u00eenv\u00e2r\u021bi roti\u021ba cu grij\u0103<br \/>\n\u0219i nu te ui\u021bi \u00een jos. dac\u0103 te ui\u021bi, te ui\u021bi a\u0219a din coada ochilor,<\/p>\n<p>doar ca s\u0103 vezi unde vei face pasul urm\u0103tor. mul\u021bi s-au ascuns \u00een avalan\u0219\u0103 de frica mor\u021bii de cancer. un lucru-i sigur: am pierdut manualu&#8217; cu instruc\u021biuni \u0219i m\u0103 cam dor m\u00e2inile. le str\u00e2ng \u0219i iar le sl\u0103besc, m\u0103 uit \u00een jos doar ca s\u0103 v\u0103d de unde-am s\u0103 cad. m\u00e2na<\/p>\n<p>alunec\u0103 de pe coard\u0103, catarama se desface. \u0219i m\u0103 duc, m\u0103 duc, m\u0103 duc mii de metri-n z\u0103pad\u0103&#8230; deocamdat\u0103, asta am Io \u00een cap. dac\u0103 se va-nt\u00e2mpla, n-o s\u0103 am timp de vorbe, de instruc\u021biuni \u0219i poze.<br \/>\ndac\u0103 s-a-nt\u00e2mplat, am \u0219i adormit \u00een c\u0103dere \u2013 \u0219i e-at\u00e2t de cald aici.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>statutul sperietorii<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<br \/>\nm\u0103 opresc din cititu&#8217; unui roman \u0219i-ncerc s\u0103-i imaginez continuarea, pre\u021b de c\u00e2teva s\u0103pt\u0103m\u00e2ni. se zice c\u0103 nu-i greu s-ajungi pe c\u00e2mp.<br \/>\nadic\u0103 nu c\u0103 nu-i greu, ba e foarte u\u0219or, \u00eens\u0103 \u0219i mai \u0219i dec\u00e2t s-ajungi<br \/>\ne ca s\u0103 r\u0103m\u00e2i deasupra, s\u0103 ai t\u0103ria de a te suporta. c\u00e2nd te specializezi<\/p>\n<p>\u00eentr-un domeniu alte sfere \u021bi-apar anodine: \u021b\u0103ranu-i str\u0103in de fizic\u0103 atomic\u0103. c\u00e2nd lacrimile subliniaz\u0103 un eveniment se spune c\u0103 pl\u00e2ngi de necaz ori bucurie. \u0219i pl\u00e2nsul difer\u0103, un ochi de sperietoare \u0219tie diferen\u021ba. nu-i o metafor\u0103 propozi\u021bia sufletul se dezghea\u021b\u0103 \u2013<\/p>\n<p>sperietoarea r\u0103m\u00e2ne locului, aceea\u0219i fa\u021b\u0103 coclit\u0103, schi\u021b\u0103 de furie.<br \/>\nc\u00e2nd porumbul s-a cules, Ea st\u0103 pe c\u00e2mp ca s\u0103 p\u0103zeasc\u0103 roua,<br \/>\nEa nu poate avea orice nume, \u00eens\u0103 oricine \u00eei d\u0103 unul va suporta consecin\u021bele, va fi tat\u0103. de\u0219i e stoars\u0103 de respira\u021bie, tras\u0103 de limb\u0103,<\/p>\n<p>gesturile ei largi sunt la cheremul v\u00e2ntului, emo\u021bie paralizant\u0103, intransmisibil\u0103, o muzic\u0103 spectral\u0103, v\u0103zut\u0103 \u0219i uitat\u0103 instantaneu.<br \/>\ne firesc s\u0103 fie a\u0219a. adic\u0103 nu e chiar firesc, \u00eens\u0103 ar fi dureros ca s\u0103 nu o mai vedem cum \u00eemparte razele de parc\u0103 ar fi aflat scopul vie\u021bii.<\/p>\n<p>lumea se mi\u0219c\u0103, n-are timp de r\u0103spunsuri. sperietoarea face totul ca<br \/>\ns\u0103 \u021bin\u0103 lumea la distan\u021b\u0103 \u2013 de-aceea ne \u0219i dorim proximitatea ei.<br \/>\no v\u0103d cresc\u00e2nd copii, sp\u0103l\u00e2nd c\u0103m\u0103\u0219i, r\u00e2njind senil\u0103 ca un clovn.<br \/>\ndar nu mi-o imaginez niciodat\u0103 lovit\u0103 de un camion.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>apa curge nestingherit\u0103 pe sub pod<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>c\u00e2nd ochiul se uit\u0103-n oglind\u0103, ce vede? un alt ochi care-l prive\u0219te,<br \/>\nun sex de femeie, iris dilatat de neuroleptice? diane wakovski nu \u0219tia s\u0103 \u00eenoate. s-au \u00eenecat destui tineri care n-au apucat s\u0103 fac\u0103 dragoste.<br \/>\nau depus eforturi ca s\u0103 se \u021bin\u0103 drep\u021bi ca lum\u00e2n\u0103rile-de-nunt\u0103,<\/p>\n<p>s\u0103 fac\u0103 pluta cu gura \u00eenchis\u0103 \u2013 unii au cedat \u00eenaintea celorlal\u021bi \u0219i ceilal\u021bi s-au bucurat foarte. e greu s\u0103 afli un loc unde s\u0103-\u021bi la\u0219i capul. s\u0103 \u00eeno\u021bi cum se \u00eenota pe vremuri \u0219i te uitai la lun\u0103 prin cupele sutienului. to\u021bi au ceva de \u00eenecat \u00een\u0103untru, \u00ee\u0219i semnaleaz\u0103 pozi\u021bia<\/p>\n<p>ultim\u0103. hipnoza ar trebui s\u0103 aib\u0103 o putere de \u0219aman asupra spiritului, \u00eens\u0103 iov ne-a demonstrat c\u0103 n-are. orice ai \u00eeneca trebuie s\u0103 aib\u0103 o idee de sacrificiu. c\u00e2nd \u00eemi seac\u0103 resursele \u0219i nu mai v\u0103d lumina \u00een ap\u0103, m\u0103 trezesc cu o or\u0103 mai devreme dec\u00e2t ora la care sun\u0103 ceasul.<\/p>\n<p>dau cu ap\u0103 pe m\u00e2ini \u0219i pe fa\u021b\u0103 ca s\u0103 se duc\u0103 funinginea visului. nici nu se lumineaz\u0103 bine \u0219i am deja primele r\u00e2nduri, ni\u0219te bruioane pentru alte bruioane la care o s\u0103 lucrez intens c\u00e2nd voi avea stelu\u021be de ghea\u021b\u0103 \u00een p\u0103r. \u0219i p\u00e2n\u0103 c\u00e2nd sun\u0103 ceasul lumina mea explodeaz\u0103-n<\/p>\n<p>oglind\u0103 \u2013 m\u0103 simt pulverizat la miezul nop\u021bii \u00eentre ziua-de-ieri \u0219i ziua-de-ast\u0103zi, aproape fericit, \u00eenecat \u00eentr-un ochi de ap\u0103,<br \/>\nsatisf\u0103cut profesional precum investigatorul unui zbor pr\u0103bu\u0219it \u2013radiind cu pepita-de-aur \u00een m\u00e2n\u0103 \u2013 cheia dezastrului.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>partea bun\u0103 a lucrurilor<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<br \/>\n\u00een vise timpul capoteaz\u0103. \u0219i dac\u0103, totu\u0219i, este ceva timp acolo,<br \/>\nEl se afl\u0103 sub chip de femeie sau b\u0103rbat, mereu ceva de dorit,<br \/>\nde str\u00e2ns \u00een bra\u021be. am crezut c\u0103 pot fi cumva de folos ca o scar\u0103 de policlinic\u0103 unde pe fiecare treapt\u0103 cineva nem\u00e2ncat a\u0219teapt\u0103 s\u0103 i se<\/p>\n<p>recolteze s\u00e2nge. nimic despre con\u021binutul radioactiv al ustensilelor, nimic despre poten\u021bialul cancerigen al unei \u00eent\u00e2lniri ratate. la trezire avem \u00een minte flash-urile unui bairam \u0219i gustul de pisic\u0103 moart\u0103.<br \/>\nau fost zile grele \u0219i acelea nu erau dec\u00e2t \u00eenceputul \u2013 vor veni zile mai<\/p>\n<p>grele \u0219i nici atunci nu va fi sf\u00e2r\u0219itul \u2013 c\u00e2nd pretutindeni vezi corpuri inerte \u00ee\u021bi dai seama \u00eenc\u0103 o dat\u0103 c\u0103 poezia nu poate salva nimic,<br \/>\ne doar o nobil\u0103 starea de prostra\u021bie \u2013 parc\u0103 ai fi b\u0103ut toat\u0103 noaptea, te-ai f\u0103cut mang\u0103 \u0219i deceniile au \u021b\u00e2\u0219nit ca o vrabie speriat\u0103.<\/p>\n<p>nu mai \u0219tii unde-ai fost, pe cine-ai \u021binut de vorb\u0103, orice indicator de<br \/>\npe strad\u0103, fiecare semn \u021bi-ar\u0103tau c\u0103 trebuie s\u0103 fii atent, peste c\u00e2teva secunde ori minute e\u0219ti \u00een pericol. \u0219i eram: \u00eemi deschideam ochii undeva-departe, o lumini\u021b\u0103 \u00een bezn\u0103, acolo m\u0103 reped \u0219i acum<\/p>\n<p>dar Ea se stinge \u0219i se aprinde mai la dreapta. o reg\u0103sesc \u0219i m\u0103 duc mai la dreapta, parc\u0103 \u0219i Ea m\u0103 caut\u0103 \u0219i ceva o \u00eempiedic\u0103. cu c\u00e2t venim unul spre cel\u0103lalt cu at\u00e2t ne \u00eendep\u0103rt\u0103m \u2013 greutatea pufului de p\u0103p\u0103die preseaz\u0103 cu for\u021ba lacrimii o gean\u0103 rebel\u0103 pe vremuri.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>suprafe\u021bele ne \u00een\u0219al\u0103 privirea<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<br \/>\nm\u0103 ocup de lucruri neclintite. am puterea de a le muta. nu-i u\u0219or ca s\u0103 faci un lucru s\u0103 vorbeasc\u0103, gramatica le-a t\u0103iat cheful de a se confesa. dar s\u0103 se mi\u0219te? Ele sunt acum la genul neutru \u0219i \u00een plin\u0103 levita\u021bie.<br \/>\np\u00e2n\u0103 \u0219i groparul expert \u00een cavit\u0103\u021bi coboar\u0103 cu fiecare mort<\/p>\n<p>o parte din El. \u0219tim de la \u0219coal\u0103 cum arat\u0103 un cerc, cum s\u0103 fie p\u0103tratul, rombul \u0219i triunghiul. \u0219tim din fa\u021ba blocului c\u0103 fetele au ceva \u021b\u00e2\u0219nitor \u0219i care nu se vede ca la Noi, prin pantaloni. mintea st\u0103 \u00eentr-un col\u021b \u0219i se g\u00e2nde\u0219te \u2013 Ea \u00een\u021belege c\u0103 minus e minus, asta \u00eenseamn\u0103<\/p>\n<p>ceva care nu mai e de fa\u021b\u0103 \u2013 cum se poate aduna ceva care nu-i?<br \/>\nmintea are complexe de genul: nas c\u00e2rn, picioare icsate, \u0219olduri-de- butoi-cu-varz\u0103. Ea se afl\u0103 \u00eentr-un perpetuu offside: o albastr\u0103 bilu\u021b\u0103 de pix indic\u0103 mereu punctul cu var: e\u0219ti pedepsit c\u0103 exi\u0219ti,<\/p>\n<p>moartea te caut\u0103-n lume \u0219i Tu e\u0219ti la masa de scris, azil de o persoan\u0103. pentru c\u0103 nu te g\u0103se\u0219te, tragi o cinzeac\u0103. te caut\u0103 la morg\u0103 \u0219i nu te g\u0103se\u0219te \u2013 tragi o sut\u0103. te caut\u0103 \u00eentre napoleon, stalin \u0219i madam bovary, cicciolina \u0219i arnold swarzennegger \u0219i culmea, nu te g\u0103se\u0219te!<\/p>\n<p>\u2013 \u00eei bagi o dubl\u0103 \u0219i numaidec\u00e2t apar stelu\u021be mai verzi ca dolarii.<br \/>\nla \u00eenceput abia am mi\u0219cat o coal\u0103 de varz\u0103. pe urm\u0103 am exersat cu fusta iubitei. dup\u0103 c\u00e2teva luni am ridicat obiecte greu\u021be: \u021big\u0103ri \u0219i pahare de 50 ml, plastice de 2 l \u0219i m\u00e2inile pe s\u00e2ni cu facultate.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>un program de s\u0103n\u0103tate mental\u0103<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<br \/>\n\u00eentr-o zi ai s\u0103-\u021bi pierzi capul, zicea mama, e-a c\u00e2ta oar\u0103 c\u00e2nd pierzi ghiozdanul \u0219i m\u0103nu\u0219ile? dar c\u00e2nd m\u0103 certa mama eram bucuros pentru c\u0103 sup\u0103rarea ei aducea \u0219i mai mult\u0103 bun\u0103tate. o hait\u0103 de c\u00e2ini m\u0103 sim\u021bea venind ca pe o c\u0103\u021bea \u00een c\u0103lduri. toamna \u00eent\u00e2rzia s\u0103 vin\u0103,<\/p>\n<p>seceta uscase totul. doar pepenilor le-a mers bine, ace\u0219ti porcu\u0219ori vegetali s-au v\u00e2ndut excelent. am luat o lubeni\u021b\u0103 verde ca m\u0103tasea broa\u0219tei, ro\u0219ie \u0219i dulce pe din\u0103untru, r\u0103ceala de form\u0103 a c\u0103lug\u0103ri\u021belor.<br \/>\npe o alt\u0103 filier\u0103 a sunetelor \u00eenalte, octavele strigii \u00een cercul \u00eentunecat<\/p>\n<p>al iri\u0219ilor. cum s\u0103 mai iei cu tine ceva dup\u0103 lec\u021bia lui macedon?<br \/>\nni\u0219te corela\u021bii \u00een fluxul ideilor care ne asalteaz\u0103? obsesiile noastre se aseam\u0103n\u0103 pe m\u0103sur\u0103 ce devenim sinceri unul cu cel\u0103lalt? acele opuse culori, percep\u021bii feroce sunt schi\u021bele omului devenit?<\/p>\n<p>piesa continu\u0103 doar c\u0103 unele am\u0103nunte ale vie\u021bii te fac praf.<br \/>\nvorbesc pentru c\u0103 am nesiguran\u021ba convingerilor,<br \/>\nm\u0103 tem c\u0103 n-am s\u0103 mai aud niciodat\u0103 splendida voce care-i a mea doar \u00een timp ce vorbesc. am r\u0103mas undeva captiv \u00eentre timpuri<\/p>\n<p>precum bucuriile ce nu se mai \u00eentorc niciodat\u0103. de la o v\u00e2rst\u0103 b\u0103nuim cam pe unde e cap\u0103tul. de-aia se \u0219i laud\u0103 b\u0103tr\u00e2nii cu absen\u021ba viitorului \u2013 ochii sl\u0103besc, lentilele se fisureaz\u0103, imaginile cap\u0103t\u0103 o patin\u0103 de lucru vechi \u0219i valoros pe care nu \u0219i-l permite nimeni.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<br \/>\n<strong>\u00een apropiere de hermannstadt<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<br \/>\n\u00een nop\u021bile reci cu lun\u0103 trist\u0103, \u00een \u0219ura lui nea ion, chiar \u00eentre paie<br \/>\nr\u00e2ndunelele \u0219i-au f\u0103cut cuiburi \u0219i au pui cu ciocuri galbene.<br \/>\nm\u0103 tulburasem foarte urm\u0103rindu-le plecarea, \u0219tiind c\u0103 nu voi fi<br \/>\nde fa\u021b\u0103 c\u00e2nd se vor \u00eentoarce la casa-de-lemn din c\u00e2mpie.<\/p>\n<p>zborul lor e-asemenea unei lum\u00e2n\u0103ri de veghe \u2013 arde ce arde<br \/>\n\u00eens\u0103 mortul trebuie \u00eengropat. \u00een veghile mele de noapte<br \/>\nm-am c\u0103l\u0103uzit dup\u0103 steaua singur\u0103t\u0103\u021bii, o stea galben\u0103 lumin\u00e2nd pe din\u0103untru, steaua evreilor du\u0219i la abator \u2013 f\u0103r\u0103 s\u0103 pot exprima<\/p>\n<p>ceea ce sim\u021beam lumin\u00e2nd, nefiind prezent \u00een prezentul \u0103sta,<br \/>\nci prezent \u00een prezentul care va fi fost s\u0103 fie \u2013 un cer senin.<br \/>\n\u0219i \u00een toridele ore de amiaz\u0103 ale verii se st\u00e2rne\u0219te un v\u00e2nticel<br \/>\nde peste mun\u021bi ca s\u0103 \u00eempr\u0103\u0219tie scrumul caselor arse,<\/p>\n<p>frica de sf\u00e2r\u0219it, gaj al toamnei care va veni galben\u0103 peste oase.<br \/>\nnici n-am luat bine o carte \u00een m\u00e2ini c\u0103 v\u00e2ntul o deschide la sf\u00e2r\u0219it,<br \/>\nv\u00e2ntul mut\u0103 cenu\u0219a din strad\u0103 \u00een c\u0103r\u021bi \u0219i proiecte esen\u021biale.<br \/>\nceea ce p\u0103rea s\u0103 durere se n\u0103ruie; doar mi\u0219carea mai poate salva<\/p>\n<p>dar mi\u0219carea-i dureroas\u0103 pentru cel cu o stea \u00eentre omopla\u021bi \u2013 o lumin\u0103 galben\u0103 \u0219i t\u0103ioas\u0103. dac\u0103 nici stelele nu r\u0103m\u00e2n la locul lor,<br \/>\nce se va alege din galbenul lor morganatic? firmele de ecarisaj au f\u0103cut bani frumo\u0219i adun\u00e2nd pot\u0103ile ora\u0219ului \u00een timpul trecut.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<br \/>\n<strong>la d\u0103r\u00e2marea schelei<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<br \/>\nam sentimentul c\u0103 \u00eemi m\u0103n\u00e2nc p\u0103rin\u021bii. mi-au trimis fotografii cu singurul pom din gr\u0103din\u0103, un cire\u0219. din bruma lor legume \u0219i fructe, c\u00e2teva borcane cu dulcea\u021b\u0103. am sentimentul c\u0103 am stricat o parte din lucrare. grija de a recupera cuiele ruginite, lemnul care a rezistat<\/p>\n<p>intemperiilor. nicio urm\u0103 din pa\u0219ii zidarilor, niciun cuv\u00e2nt porcos<br \/>\nnu se mai aude. privirea porne\u0219te direct prin fereastr\u0103, fragmenteaz\u0103 ora\u0219ul \u00een uli\u021be b\u0103ltinde \u0219i ocole\u0219te ogarii prip\u0103\u0219i\u021bi \u00een sc\u0103ri de imobil. acesta e ora\u0219ul meu, garsoniera mea, fotoliul \u0219i orizontul dincolo de<\/p>\n<p>ochelari, pe sub imaginea lecturii mele, comunic\u00e2nd prin raze X<br \/>\ncu altul, acela\u0219i. totul e s\u0103 merg, s\u0103 nu stau locului,<br \/>\ncon te partiro, sunavi per mari che io no so.<br \/>\no p\u0103tur\u0103 de l\u00e2n\u0103 alb\u0103, un pix \u0219i un carne\u021bel unde Naratorul este<\/p>\n<p>identic cu Autorul. am \u00eenceput s\u0103 cobor scara \u2013 cuvinte dr\u0103g\u0103la\u0219e \u0219i nepieritoare, doar gura ce abia le rosti e plin\u0103 de p\u0103m\u00e2nt \u2013 p\u0103m\u00e2ntul \u00een\u021belege totul. \u0219i tot cobor\u00e2nd, sunt atent la trepte ca s\u0103 nu alunec,<br \/>\ns\u0103 nu m\u0103 trezesc deodat\u0103 c\u0103zut pe alt p\u0103m\u00e2nt.<\/p>\n<p>\u00eenc\u0103 zece, dou\u0103zeci, o sut\u0103 \u0219i scara tot nu se termin\u0103 \u2013 acolo sunt muzee \u0219i galerii de art\u0103, acolo-s amfiteatre \u0219i mari biblioteci.<br \/>\nacolo unde sunt academii \u0219i observatoare, acolo-s \u00eenchisori \u0219i ospicii.<br \/>\n\u0219i mai departe sunt alte dep\u0103rt\u0103ri la care \u0219i g\u00e2ndul ajunge obosit.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><em>\u00a0&#8211; selec\u021bie realizat\u0103 de Nu\u021ba Istrate Gangan &#8211;\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><img decoding=\"async\" loading=\"lazy\" class=\"alignnone wp-image-2001\" src=\"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/04\/17974149_1383831078322696_824196370_n.jpg\" alt=\"17974149_1383831078322696_824196370_n\" width=\"421\" height=\"421\" srcset=\"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/04\/17974149_1383831078322696_824196370_n.jpg 568w, http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/04\/17974149_1383831078322696_824196370_n-150x150.jpg 150w, http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/04\/17974149_1383831078322696_824196370_n-300x300.jpg 300w, http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/04\/17974149_1383831078322696_824196370_n-210x210.jpg 210w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 421px) 100vw, 421px\" \/><br \/>\n(din volumul \u201erecriminator &#8212; &#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"coauthors":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4rsGx-wg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2000"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2000"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2000\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2003,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2000\/revisions\/2003"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2000"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2000"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2000"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/coauthors?post=2000"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}