The document contains several poems about love, nature, and imagination. The first poem describes a romantic encounter. The second depicts two people communicating through words that fly between them. Another poem finds beauty in winter and transparent hands. Another is a love poem where the subject remains bored but beautiful. One poem describes adolescents learning to walk on waves. The last two are in French and describe learning to fly by tightening shoulders, raising on toes, closing eyes/ears and imagining flight.
The document contains several poems about love, nature, and imagination. The first poem describes a romantic encounter. The second depicts two people communicating through words that fly between them. Another poem finds beauty in winter and transparent hands. Another is a love poem where the subject remains bored but beautiful. One poem describes adolescents learning to walk on waves. The last two are in French and describe learning to fly by tightening shoulders, raising on toes, closing eyes/ears and imagining flight.
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The document contains several poems about love, nature, and imagination. The first poem describes a romantic encounter. The second depicts two people communicating through words that fly between them. Another poem finds beauty in winter and transparent hands. Another is a love poem where the subject remains bored but beautiful. One poem describes adolescents learning to walk on waves. The last two are in French and describe learning to fly by tightening shoulders, raising on toes, closing eyes/ears and imagining flight.
Copyright:
Attribution Non-Commercial (BY-NC)
Available Formats
Download as DOC, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
and kissed the sole of your foot, wouldn't you limp a little then, afraid to crush my kiss?...
Sentimental story
Then we met more often.
I stood at one side of the hour, you at the other, like two handles of an amphora. Only the words flew between us, back and forth. You could almost see their swirling, and suddenly, I would lower a knee, and touch my elbow to the ground to look at the grass, bent by the falling of some word, as though by the paw of a lion in flight. The words spun between us, back and forth, and the more I loved you, the more they continued, this whirl almost seen, the structure of matter, the beginnings of things.
Winter song
You are so beautiful in winter!
The field stretched on its back, near the horizon, and the trees stopped running from the winter wind ... My nostrils tremble and no scent and no breeze only the distant, icy smell of the suns. How transparent your hands are in winter! And no one passes - only the white suns revolve in quiet worship. and the thought spreads in circles ringing the trees in twos in fours Of love
She remains bored and very beautiful
her black hair is angry, her bright hand for ages now has forgotten me,- for ages too has forgotten itself, hanging as it has from the neck of a chair. In the lights I drown myself, set my jaws against the coursing of the year. I reveal my teeth to her but she understands this is no smile- sweet, illuminated creature she reveals myself to me while she remains bored and very beautiful and for her alone I live in the appalling world of this inferior heaven.
Adolescents on the sea
This sea is covered with adolescents
learning to walk on waves, upright, sometimes resting their arms on the currents, sometimes gripping a stiff beam of sunlight. I lie on the broad beach, an angled shape, cut perfectly, and I ponder them like travelers landing. An infinite fleet of yawls. I wait to see a false step, or at least a grounding up to knee in the diaphanous swell beneath their measured progress, sounding. But they are slim and calm - as well, they've learned to walk on waves - and standing
La leçon de vol
poésie par Nichita Stanescu
Tout d'abord tu serres tes épaules
ensuite tu t'élèves sur la pointe des pieds tu fermes les yeux et te bouches les oreilles. Tu te dis à toi-même : maintenant, je vais voler. Après quoi, tu dis : je vole et c'est juste cela le vol.
Tu serres les épaules
à la manière des rivières qui se rassemblent dans un seul fleuve. Tu fermes les yeux pareillement aux nuages qui encerclent le champ. Tu te hausses sur la pointe des pieds telle la pyramide qui s'élève sur le sable. Tu renonces complètement à l'ouïe l'ouïe de tout un siècle ensuite tu te dis à toi-même : maintenant, je volerai dès ma naissance jusqu'à la mort. Après quoi tu te dis encore : je vole - et c'est bien cela le temps.
Tu rassembles tes rivières
pareillement à tes épaules tu t'élèves sur le bêlement des chèvres et dis : Nevermore et tout de suite après : froufrou - flûte ! tu bats tes ailes de quelqu'un d'autre, et ensuite tu deviens ce quelqu'un d'autre et celui-là sera à jamais ce quelqu'un d'autre.
La leçon de vol
poésie par Nichita Stanescu
Tout d'abord tu serres tes épaules
ensuite tu t'élèves sur la pointe des pieds tu fermes les yeux et te bouches les oreilles. Tu te dis à toi-même : maintenant, je vais voler. Après quoi, tu dis : je vole et c'est juste cela le vol.
Tu serres les épaules
à la manière des rivières qui se rassemblent dans un seul fleuve. Tu fermes les yeux pareillement aux nuages qui encerclent le champ. Tu te hausses sur la pointe des pieds telle la pyramide qui s'élève sur le sable. Tu renonces complètement à l'ouïe l'ouïe de tout un siècle ensuite tu te dis à toi-même : maintenant, je volerai dès ma naissance jusqu'à la mort. Après quoi tu te dis encore : je vole - et c'est bien cela le temps.
Tu rassembles tes rivières
pareillement à tes épaules tu t'élèves sur le bêlement des chèvres et dis : Nevermore et tout de suite après : froufrou - flûte ! tu bats tes ailes de quelqu'un d'autre, et ensuite tu deviens ce quelqu'un d'autre et celui-là sera à jamais ce quelqu'un d'autre