They miss the whisper that runs any day in your mind, "Who are you really, wanderer?"-- and the answer you have to give no matter how dark and cold the world around you is: "Maybe I'm a king."

William Stafford (1914–1993, U.S.A.)

A Story That Could Be True

If you were exchanged in the cradle and
your real mother died
without ever telling the story
then no one knows your name,
and somewhere in the world
your father is lost and needs you
but you are far away.

He can never find
how true you are, how ready.
When the great wind comes
and the robberies of the rain
you stand on the corner shivering.
The people who go by–
you wonder at their calm.

They miss the whisper that runs
any day in your mind,
“Who are you really, wanderer?”–
and the answer you have to give
no matter how dark and cold
the world around you is:
“Maybe I’m a king.”

(William Stafford, 1914–1993, U.S.A.)
(Going Over to Your Place: Poems for Each Other)

William Stafford, American Poet (1914-1993)

O poveste aproape adevărată
(William Stafford, 1914–1993, S.U.A.)

Din leagăn de-ai fi fost pierdut
iar maica ta ar fi murit
fără să sufle vre-un cuvânt nimănui
atunci nimeni nu ţi-ar fi ştiut numele
iar pe undeva prin lume
tatăl tău s-ar fi pierdut, fiindu-i dor de tine,
iar tu ai fi departe.

El n-ar avea de unde şti
Cât de netăgăduit eşti si cât de dornic.
Când vântul suflă puternic
şi ploaia ropoteşte
tu stai la răscruce de drumuri tremurând de frig
privind oamenii ce trec pe lângă tine
şi eşti uimit să vezi cât de stăpani sunt de sine.

Ei nu-ţi vor auzi şoapta
ce-ţi trece mereu prin minte.
“Oare cine eşti tu, străine?”
Iar tu, ori cât de intunecată şi rece
ţi-ar părea lumea din jurul tău, vei răspunde:
“Eu, poate sunt Împăratul!”

Versiune in Limba Româna:
Constantin ROMAN
Londra, 28 Deeembrie 2011

© Constantin ROMAN, 2011

Siegfried Sassoon (1886-1967) - British Poet

An Old FRENCH POET
Siegfried Sassoon (1886-1967)

When in your sober mood my body have ye laid
In sight and sound of things beloved, woodland and stream,
And the green turf has hidden the poor bones ye deem
No more a close companion with those rhymes we made;

Then, if some bird should pipe, or breezes stir the glade,
Thinking them for the while my voice, so let them seem
A fading message from the misty shores of dream,
Or wheresoever, following Death, my feet have strayed.

Celtic Cross, Maramures, Romania

CÂNTEC DE DEMULT
[Siegfried Sassoon (1886-1967)]

Când ma veţi îngropa, cu gând cernit
In freamăt de pădure si izvoare
Şi iarba va ascunde-un oarecare
Tovarăş din trecutul mult jelit,

Atunci pădurea şi pârâul vor cânta,
Să v-amintească glasu-mi de-altă dată
Ecou din viaţa noastră fermecată,
Sau poate pasul meu ce-ar adăsta.

Rendered in Romanian by
Constantin Roman
London, October 2011
Copyright 2011 © Constantin ROMAN, Londra

Caligula Equestrian Statue (BM)

Sculpted Head:
Rodica IULIAN *b Romania,1931)

“He was handsome, the child-Caligula
He was serene the child-Caligula
He had a child-like smile
The child-Caligula.
I ought to have bought him a fair yearling
One hundred yearlings
For him to have a whole Senate of yearlings
To play with
And to let them be
Yearlings, true yearlings
Each and every one of them ridden
By the child-Caligula
The child-Caligula
Never Caligula – the adult.”

(Iulian, Rodica, Stained glass- Poems, page 28,
Translated by Constantin Roman)
(Published in: Blouse Roumaine – An Anthology of Romanian Women, by Constantin Roman)
http://www.blouseroumaine.com/

Radu GYR (1905-1975), Romanian poet, political prisoner

Radu GYR – “Ridică-te, Gheorghe, ridică-te, Ioane!” (Arise, brother Andrew, arise, brother John!)

Nu pentru-o lopată de rumenă pâine,
nu pentru patule, nu pentru pogoane,
ci pentru văzduhul tău liber de mâine,
ridică-te, Gheorghe, ridică-te, Ioane!

Pentru sângele neamului tău curs prin şanţuri,
pentru cântecul tău ţintuit în piroane,
pentru lacrima soarelui tău pus în lanţuri,
ridică-te, Gheorghe, ridică-te, Ioane!

Nu pentru mania scrâşnită-n măsele,
ci ca să aduni chiuind pe tapsane
o claie de zări şi-o căciula de stele,
ridică-te, Gheorghe, ridică-te, Ioane!

Aşa, ca să bei libertatea din ciuturi
şi-n ea să te-afunzi ca un cer în bulboane
şi zărzării ei peste tine să-i scuturi,
ridică-te, Gheorghe, ridică-te, Ioane!

Şi ca să pui tot sărutul fierbinte
pe praguri, pe prispe, pe uşi, pe icoane,
pe toate ce slobode-ţi ies inainte,
ridică-te, Gheorghe, ridică-te, Ioane!

Ridică-te, Gheorghe, pe lanţuri, pe funii!
Ridică-te, Ioane, pe sfinte ciolane!
Şi sus, spre lumina din urmă-a furtunii,
ridică-te, Gheorghe, ridică-te, Ioane!

Arise brother Andrew, arise brother John
(by Radu GYR)

It is not for the sake of a bread on your table,
it is neither for pastures and nor for the stock,
it is rather for living a peace which is stable:
arise brother Andrew, arise brother Jock!

For the sake of your kinsmen who died in the ditches
for the hymns that you sang as you stood in the dock
for the tears of the heavens, as you pained in the shackles
arise brother Andrew, arise brother Jock!

It is not for the anger resounding your body
it’s instead for the sake of your cry to the world,
for the distant horizons with a brimful of planets,
arise brother Andrew, arise brother Jock!

If you wish to regain all the ancestral freedoms,
through the heavenly gates your admission to gain,
break to pieces the shackles which are cutting your body,
arise brother Andrew, arise brother Jock!

As prostrate you may wish once again to embrace
all that’s left from the blaze of your family’s hearth
they all gently come back to take hold of your soul
arise brother Andrew, arise brother Jock!

Arise brother Andrew, by freeing your shackles!
Arise brother Jock, back again on your bones!
Alight to the Heavens, the tempest abated,
arise brother Andrew, arise brother Jock!

(Rendered from Romanian by Constantin ROMAN, September 2011)

Radu Gyr (pen name of Radu Demetrescu; March 2, 1905, Câmpulung-Muscel – 29 April 1975, Bucharest) – Romanian poet, essayist, playwright, journalist, political prisoner.

Radu Demetrescu, aka Radu GYR made his debut at the age of twenty two. He was several times a Laureate of the Society of Romanian Writers to be subsequently employed by the Romanian Academy in its Institute of Romanian Literature. Radu Gyr also held the position of Lecturer of the Department of Romanian Letters and Philosophy, Bucharest University.
In 1940 he is appointed Director General of the nationwide Romanian Theatres, on which occasion he becomes the founder of the “Teatrul Evreiesc” in Bucharest (The Jewish Theatre).
The poet spent time in prison, both before and during the Communist regime.

The above poem caused the writer to be sentenced to death in 1958. However, his life sentence was commuted to a shorter sentence and eventually he was released to be put in charge of the Communist broadcasts aimed at the Romanian diaspora in the West. This was a scenario often replicated in the case of several dissidents who fell foul of the Communist authorities. He died at the age of 70 in Bucharest.

Patrick McGuinness

Patrick McGuinness, Poet and Academic of Irish and Belgian extraction. His first novel, The last Hundred Days, (Seren Books, 1911) is based on his experience of life during the terminal years of Ceausescu’s dictatorship.

Poet si Universitar de origine Irlandeza si Belgiana, Patrick McGuinness a debutat cu romanul intitulat Ultima suta de zile (The last Hundred Days, Seren Books, 1911) care povesteste despre anii traiti in perioada  agoniei  Ceausiste.

Patrick McGuinness:   Father and Son

(in memory of my father, and in welcome to my son)

In the wings there is one who waits to go on,
and another, his scene run, who waits to go.
I would like to think they met; if not here
then like crossed letters touching in the dark;

the blank page and the turned page,
the first and the last, shadows folding
over and across me, in whom they’re bound.

Published in Metre, Spring 2005

Tata si Fiu

(In Memoria Tatalui si  Binevenirea Fiului meu)

In culise un om asteapta sa intre in scena,

iar altul, cu rolul terminat, asteapta sa plece.

Asi vrea sa cred ca s-ar fi intalnit, cel putin aici,

daca nu, intocmai cuvintelor, trecand prin ceata;

o pagina alba si una intoarsa,

prima si ultima, umbre impaturite

peste mine si prin mine, o fibra din trupul meu.

(versiune in limba Romana © Constantin ROMAN, 16 Iulie 2011)

In Memory of my Father, and in Welcome to my Son

Mihai EMINESCU (1850-1889)

Ai Nostri Tineri

Mihai Eminescu -

Ai nostri tineri la Paris învata
La gît cravatei cum se leaga nodul,
S-apoi ni vin de fericesc norodul
Cu chipul lor istet de oaie creata.

La ei îsi casca ochii sai nerodul,
Ca-i vede-n birje rasucind mustata,
Ducînd în dinti tigara lungareata…
Ei toata ziua bat de-a lungul Podul.

Vorbesc pe nas, ca saltimbanci se strîmba:
Stîlpi de bordel, de crîsme, cafenele
Si viata lor nu si-o muncesc — si-o plimba.

S-aceste marfuri fade, usurele,
Ce au uitat pîn’ si a noastra limba,
Pretind a fi pe cerul tarii: stele.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Mihai Eminescu, Memorial, Paris 5e, Photo Copyright Constantin ROMAN, June 2011

The Nation’s Youth

(Mihai EMINESCU)

The Nation’s  Youth, to Paris go to study

The art of tying round its neck a  tie.

And so, to teach at home their folk the mindset,

Of being wiser than a half-baked pie.

*

In town, the down-and-outs look up astounded

To see them twist their whiskers in their carriage,

Or, gripping with their teeth a long Havana

When traipsing up and down, along the Passage.

*

Their nasal vowels smirk their clownish faces:

They prop the pillars of cafes and brothels

To show they do not earn a living, they parade it.

*

Yet all these air-heads vie for the impression

Expressed in their forgotten,  native language

That they are our brightest constellation.

***

English Version by Constantin ROMAN

(All rights reserved, copyright, 2011)

Philip LARKIN (1922-1985), widely regarded as one of the great English poets of the latter half of the twentieth century (Photo courtesy Simon K.)

Philip LARKIN (1922-1985)

Philip Arthur Larkin, CH, CBE, FRSL (9 August 1922 – 2 December 1985) is widely regarded as one of the great English poets of the latter half of the twentieth century. After graduating from Oxford in 1943 with a degree in English language and literature, Larkin became a librarian at the  University of Hull. During this seminal period of  over thirty years  he produced the greater part of his published work and edited the Oxford Book of Twentieth-Century English Verse (1973). He was offered, but declined, the position of Poet Laureate in 1984, following the death of John Betjeman. His poems are marked by what Andrew Motion calls:

a very English, glum accuracy about emotions, places, and relationships,

and what Donald Davie described as:

lowered sights and diminished expectations.

Eric Homberger called him:

the saddest heart in the post-war supermarket

Larkin himself said that for him:

deprivation was what daffodils were for Wordsworth.

Influenced by  W.H. Auden, W.B.Yeats and Thomas Hardy,  his poems are highly-structured but flexible verse forms. They were described by Jean Hartley, the ex-wife of Larkin’s publisher George Hartley (The Marvell Press), as a

piquant mixture of lyricism and discontent,

Larkin’s public persona was that of the no-nonsense, solitary Englishman who disliked fame and had no patience for the trappings of the public literary life. (Source: Wikipedia)

————————————————-

NOTA BIOGRAFICA:

Philip Arthur LARKIN (1922-1985) este considerat drept unul dintre cei mai mari poeti Englezi din a doua jumatate a secolului XX.

Dupa terminarea studiilor facute la Oxford, el a ocupat, timp de peste treizeci de ani, functia de bibliotecar al Universitatii din Hull, perioada in care a publicat majoritatea volumelor sale de poezii.

Dupa moartea lui Betjeman, in 1983, desi i s-a oferit sa fie ales Poet Laureat, Larkin a refuzat aceasta prestigioasa functie.

Influentat de Auden, Yeats si Thomas Hardy, Larkin are reputatia unui poet pessimist, considerat un

“Englez solitar, cu o pronuntata aversiune  fata de onorurile desarte ale cabalei literare”.

AZIL

*

Un cap cu ochii tintuiti

Pe-o perna sade devalmas,

*

Cu parul alb si ravasit

Si vene negre pe grumaz .

*

Un glas vorbeste-n barba alba

Cu oameni care nu mai sunt,

*

Aceiasi ce cu ani in urma

Radeau cu pruncul nou-nascut.

*

Rasul e tanar –  timpul  fugi

Delirul mortii e tot ce stii.

(Versiune in limba Romana de Constantin ROMAN, Londra, Octombire 2010, Copyright, all rights reserved)

Heads in the Women’s Ward (1972)

On pillow after pillow lies
The wild white hair and staring eyes;

Jaws stand open; necks are stretched
With every tendon sharply sketched;

A bearded mouth talks silently
To someone no one else can see.

Sixty years ago they smiled
At lover, husband, first-born child.

Smiles are for youth. For old age come
Death’s terror and delirium.

Famine Emigrant Family, Sculpture detail, Custom House Quay, Dublin, Ireland, (copyright photo by Phil Pix 9with permission)

Famine in  19th century Ireland and in 1980s Romania: The emigrant sculptures are in memory of the native Irish who were forced into emigration during the Great Famine years due to ‘the potato blight’ which caused the rural population either to face starvation, or emigrate. Between 1845 and 1852  many people died and over a million left Ireland to escape starvation. The departure point with their few possessions was the nearby Dublin Docks, from where departed the steam boats to Liverpool . From there, many traveled on to New York to seek a new beginning in the United States. During the Irish potato famine the Romanian foreign minister Vasile Alecsandri (1821-1890), who met PM Gladstone offered to donate  a cargo of corn maize to  alleviate the  Irish famine: although corn flower was a main staple diet in rural Romania, this was completely unknown in Ireland (…): It is not recorded  if the offer was accepted and if it was what the Irish  made of it.

It is ironic that only four generations on from the Irish famine, during the 1980′s Romania which only a century earlier,  under the Ottomans, was considered the ‘granary of Europe’ fell under a ruthless dictatorship of the cobbler President Nicolae Ceausescu and as a direct consequence of it Romania’s population  was brought to near starvation by the communist  leader’s drive to pay off immediately the country’s foreign debts, This was incurred due  to an unsustainable forced  industrialization which was carried out by importing foreign technology and know-how resulting in a huge national debt. To repay it the bulk of Romanian home-produced foodstuff went to export, whilst the native population went hungry, reduced to eating chicken claws and knuckles, after queuing for long hours at state-owned shops, hoping to get something to eat: milk, eggs, meat were unobtainable and oil, butter, bread were rationed. To make things worse Ceausescu embarked on a nation-wide scale redevelopment which involved demolishing historic city centres to have them replaced by high-rise blocks of flats (of sardine-can size) to cram in the dislodged population.

The Poem “Exile” and the “Metaphysical Cat” respectively, by Marin Sorescu, are inspired by the grim reality lived by starving Romanians in general and the the inhabitants of Bucharest in particular, who were given only 72 hours notice before the bulldozers moved in to flatten their homes, to make room for Ceausescu’s megalomaniac Palace (the second largest in the world, built in 1980s -see photo blow). Out of a population of 22 millions several hundred thousand of ethnic  Germans emigrated to West Germany, during the 1970s and 1980s leaving empty once thriving historic towns and villages. Likewise the nearly one-million strong Romanian Jewish population  migrated to Israel during Ceausescu’s passport-for-dollars policy which brought much-needed hard currency but deprived the country of skilled professionals. Yet this was nothing compared to the bulk emigration of ethnic Romanians which was yet to follow:  millions of Romanians  fled the country before and especially after the dictator’s death, in 1989, to seek their fortune abroad. The fall of communism enhanced rather than put a stop to emigration, particularly of the young and the able-bodied skilled labourer and professionals, as the old mentality and bureaucratic control  perpetuated in the shape of a privatised Communism.

Romania has a declining demography with an increasing aged population.

EXIL

Au inflorit cartofii in Marmatia

si voi tocmai acum plecati spre sud

cind ceru-i aiurit si descusut

cind se confunda bocetul cu natia ?

Veti inventa durerea ca o tara

poate veti da peste-un mormant mai cald…

Scobim scobim cartofii de smarald,

saracii mei cartofi de piatra rara.

Ce zeu pastrat in saramuri celeste

ar fi dispus din nou sa ne adune ?

La noi la voi e plans de-ngropaciune

la voi la noi e-un capat de poveste

EXILE

As the potato flowers are in bloom
You take the road which ever us do part?
Now that the sky is gray and overcast
And tears confound the country and the doom?

The grief will be for you the new abode
Perhaps a warmer grave and newer ethos
We shall unearth those emerald potatoes
Those precious stones dug out from where we hoed.

What kind of God preserved in secret heavens
May still be glad to gather our bones
With you, with us we cry on our tombs
With you with us a story ends in ruins.

Translated from Romanian by Constantin ROMAN (London SW1, 25 June 2006)

Ceausescu's Folly built in the 1980s for which 40% of downtown historical Bucharest had been demolished

These are the ruins of the historical and residential centre of Bucharest, capital of Romania, during the 1980s. On the horizon, looming large is the largest building site in Europe making room for the second largest building in the world (after the Pentagon).
This was to become a monument to the glory of Nicolae Ceausescu, crowning thirty years of absolute power over a nation of over 20 millions.
People were given 72 hours to move out of their houses only to be crammed into concrete brutalist buildings on the outskirts of the city. In the process they abandoned in the street furniture and excess chattels as well as their pets: this accounts for the huge canine population of Bucharest which plagues the city well into the 21st century.
———————-
In a society which went through this trauma and now is subjected to a pre-programmed amnesia it may not be surprising that such memories are relegated to oblivion. There is even evidence of self-denial – making it all look that the ‘epoch’ (sic) of Nicolae Ceausescu was a “happy one” and that the brutalist building we see here being erected at a tremendous human sacrifice (like the pyramids) should become a ‘symbol’ of Romania (like Dracula!) and be considered to be a “monument of architecture”…

What we see before our eyes it is an act of deliberate and wanton cultural genocide – the razing of memory and of Romania’s past.
Historic churches (including the Vacaresti Monastery) were demolished and others were partially destroyed (Antim Monastery the Mihai Voda monastery) or “moved” to a new location (the Mihai Voda monastery church and scores of other churches moved and hidden from view behind brutalist concrete buildings).

Here was the historic downtown made of leafy neighbourhoods with ‘fin de siecle’ architecture of a charm which deserved the name of “Petit Paris” – alas no more – what was once “Little Paris” can be surmised only in the pages of impressions by Patrick Leigh Fermor, Satcheverell Sitwell, Olivia Manning, Marthe Bibesco, Matyla Ghyka or Paul Morand…
A Swiss 21st c visitor calls Bucharest a “Cannibal city” disfigured by billboards and crowded with ugly uninspired glass and steel architecture completely out of character with the city.

——————————————–
Mircea Dinescu: “THE METAPHYSICAL CAT” (“PISICA METAFIZICA”)

Poet’s NOTE:

Once upon a time, when we kept our sharp claws hidden in a velvet paw, an anonymous cat taught the Romanians a splendid lesson of Dignity: during a working visit on the Cathedral Hill in Bucharest, the “Most Beloved Son of the People”, accompanied by Raven, his favoured Labrador dog (Corbul – a present from the British Liberal party leader the Right Honourable the Lord David Steel of Aikwood, n.t.), descended from his official limo in order to admire the bulldozers inflicting a Hiroshima-like destruction to a historical residential neighborhood in downtown Bucharest. In the meantime a lone cat, which just lost its masters, was sitting on a pile of rubble, surveying like an omen the ruined housing estate, apparently defiant of the official visitor who just arrived.
At this point, Colonel Raven – because in those days all dogs belonging to the Comrade had grades, made a run for the ancient goddess, being encouraged to the task by its master. As it happened, just when action was meant to reach its climax, a lightning of claws emerged from the fur ball resulting in a fountain of blood and squeals. Uncle Nick flabbergasted by the shame inflicted on his gun dog, ordered his praetorian guard: “You catch that cat!”
In disdain, the culprit which was guilty of the punishable offense of undermining the national security, made itself scarce under a fallen fence and the lads sweated it out until late at night chasing up the illusory ghost of the cat, through the ossuary of a neighborhood, which only fourtyeight hours earlier was full of life and smelling the scent of lilac trees in bloom.
A few years later as a homage to this feline dissident master I wrote the following poem:

“THE METAPHYSICAL CAT”

(Pisica metafizica)

You catch that cat, shouted the Regent,
For it the Law can’t be so linient,
The foreign cat which does not give a dime
The Balkan cat, illegal and supine
Politically incorrect feline -
The hungry Balkan cat!
The metaphysics cat in search of trysts
Congenitally anti-communist
Consumerist who never tried alone
To strip a salmon fillet off the bone
Who never listened to the BBC
Who never went to Harrods for a spree.
How come that we inherited such cat?
Maybe from sermons of Adam Bhayat?
Or was it from some petty bourgeois gal
As surely not from the Neanderthal?
For Goodness’ sake do something with that cat!
Do kill it with a stroke of cricket bat
The Government will surely not complain
So long as it will not affect its gain
The bad-luck, idle cat and poor achiever
Which purrs and purrs whilst you all slog like beaver
Its languid manner shows its true disdain…
You Celtic ancestors, in overalls,
Do come and rescue us, heed our calls!

(Translated from Romanian by Constantin ROMAN, London SW1, June 2006)

PISICA METAFIZICA
de Mircea DINESCU
(Gandul, II, nr.329, Bucharest, 30 Mai 2006)

Pe vremea cand noi înca aveam ghearele îmbracate în catifea, o pisica anonima a oferit o frumoasa lectie de demnitate poporului român.

Aflat într-o vizita de lucru pe Dealul Mitropoliei, cel mai iubit fiu al poporului, însotit de cîinele favorit pe nume Corbu, s-a dat jos din limuzina sa admire joaca buldozeristilor „de-a bomba de la Hiroshima” din cartierul Uranus.

Pe o gramada de moloz, o pisica ramasa fara stapan veghea ca un duh al caselor demolate, ignorand parca voit alaiul oficial. Colonelul Corbu – caci ai cainii din preajma tovarasului aveau grade – s-a repezit spre zeitatea antica, încurajat de stapan, numai ca, în clipa fatala, un fulger de gheare izbucnit din ghemul îmblanit a transformat botul fiarei într-o fantana arteziana de sange si schelalaituri.

Atunci nea Nicu, îngrozit ca odorul sau a patit o asemenea rusine, a strigat catre garda pretoriana: „Prindeti pisica!”

Infractoarea ce adusese atingere sigurantei nationale s-a furisat însa dispretuitoare pe sub un gard prabusit, iar baietii au transpirat zadarnic, pîna pe înserat, fugarind stafia pisicii prin osuarul unui cartier care cu cateva zile înainte era înca viu si mirosea a liliac înflorit.

Profesoarei de disidenta felina i-am dedicat eu, cativa ani mai tarziu, acest poem omagial:

PISICA METAFIZICA
de Mircea DINESCU

Prindeti pisica!, a strigat regentul,
Pisica ce sfideaza Parlamentul
Pisica hamesita din Balcani,
Ca-i apolitica si ilegala
si fara buletin de Capitala,
Pisica hamesita din Balcani.
Pisica metafizica si trista
Prin nastere cam anticomunista?,
Cu gena dintr-o lume de consum,
N-a dezbracat în viata ei vreun peste
N-a cumparat jurnal în frantuzeste
Si nici gumari din magazinul Gum.
De unde dracu’ am mostenit pisica?
Din neorealismul lui De Sica?
Din mediul mic-burghez?
Din Neanderthal?
Faceti ceva! Dati-i în cap cu steagul
Caci nu va protesta areopagul
Din gaurile lui de cascaval.
Ea cîntareste lumea doar cu ochii
Ea poarta ghinionul precum popii
Ea toarce-n vreme ce voi toti munciti,
Lingoarea ei s-a cam mutat în lucruri,
Extrageti sabia din strung si pluguri
Voi, traci în salopete, si voi, sciti!

“Blouse Roumaine  – Antologie de Femei Exceptionale” – Recenzie

Selectectata, prezentata si editata  de Constantin Roman,

Cu o Prefata de Catherine Durandin (Profesor la INALCO, Paris)

(Traducere din limba engleza, 1.100 pagini, 160 biografii critice, 600 citate, 4.000 referinte bibliografice, 6 indexuri)

Santiago de Mora-Figueroa y Williams, marchiz de Tamarón,  un aristocrat spaniol de vita veche,  European anglofil  rafinat  si pana nu de mult ambasadorul Spaniei la Londra, a comparat candva continutul unei antologii cu o capodopera culinara:

O antologie perfecta, aidoma unei capodopere perfecte, trebuie sa ne transforme pofta in pasiune, pentru simplul motiv ca acest ansamblu de hors d’oeuvres reprezinta in cele din urma nu numai un meniu bine echilibrat si gustos, dar  tot odata el trebuie sa fie atat de rafinat incat sa ne indemne sa gustam tot mai mult. La fel si o antologie trebuie sa ne prezinte cu niste  delicatese despre care sa nu mai fi auzit vre-o data nici un gurmand al literaturii.

Henri Matisse: "Blouse Roumaine" (1940)

Analizand cu mai multa atentie analogia marchizului de Tamarón, putem afirma ca ea, de fapt, reprezinta insasi filozofia antologiei “Blouse Roumaine”. Totusi, gandindu-ne retrospectiv la aceasta galerie a femeilor din Romania ne dam seama ca ea a fost initial conceputa dupa modelul unei ii romanesti, asa cum a fost ea pictata de marele Henri Matisse, in celebrul sau tablou intitulat “Blouse Roumaine”. Realizat in 1940, in plin razboi, cand Franta era ocupata de Hitler, Matisse si-a gasit refugiul in crearea a ceeace a devenit insusi simbolul femeilor romane. Tabloul se afla acum in colectia Muzeului de Arta Moderna de la Paris.  Aluzia noastra la pictura lui Matisse este facuta tocmai pentru ca aceasta  “Antologie a femeilor Exceptionale” din Romania se poate compara cu o broderie de borangic pe o ie populara romaneasca, asa cum publicul a putut, nu de mult, sa admire in expozitia retrospectiva de la Royal Academy

Catalogul retrospecivei dela Royal Academy, Londra, 2005, unde este prezentata colectia de ii romanesti oferita de Theodor Pallady prietenului sau Matisse.

(Matisse his art and his Textiles – the Fabric of Dreams, London, 2005) si in acelasi an la Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, unde a fost prezentata colectia de textile ale pictorului francez. Printre acestea o buna parte dintre exponate au fost iile romanesti primite cadou de Matisse de la prietenul sau Theodor Pallady si care l-au inspirat pe marele Maestru francez in seria de compozitii cu aceeasi tema – ia Romaneasca, adica acea  “ Blouse Roumaine”. Pentru cititorii care nu au vazut retrospectiva, analogia titlului cartii noastre poate fi comparata cu o galerie de miniaturi de portrete dintr-un muzeu de arta: aceste portrete de femei aparand ca niste astri care stralucesc in galaxii occidentale sau nebuloase orientale, o constelatie cuprinzand o suta saizeci de stele.

Realizarea manuscrisului a implicat o adevarata asceza,  dar si o curba de initiere, printr-o munca de daruire si dedicatie pe o perioada de un deceniu intreg.  Pe undeva, poate ca  gestatia cartii care a dat nastere unei opere asa cum a fost ea descrisa de Marchizul de Tamaron:

un meniu de gustari delicioase si deosebite, prezentate atragator, dar stimuland concomitent  imaginatia dar si  papilele gustative.

Ultima vizita a lui Pallady facuta lui Matisse la Nisa, putin inainte de al Doilea Razboi Mondial: cei doi erau prieteni inca din studentia lor dela Paris. Colectia de ii Romanesti care i-au inspirat "Visul" lui Matisse a fost un dar facut de Pallady.

Pentru ca o asemenea selectie nu numai ca ofera o hrana cerebrala si sufleteasca, dar si o hrana care sa satisfaca apetitul academic, impingand limitele  gustului dincolo de retetele obisnuite ale istoriei, politicii, literaturii, muzicii. cinematografiei, dramaturgiei, feminismului sau poate ale stiintei – pentru ca “Blouse Roumaine” este de fapt o carte transdisciplinara.

Acest ansamblu de eseuri impresioniste, subiective si  esoterice este precedat de un capitol introductiv care face o prezentare generala a societatii romanesti din punct de vedere istoric, cultural, social si politic. De fapt, fundalul  frescei sociale da tonul intregului narativ prezentat sub un unghi European, permitand cititorului sa evalueze Romania nu doar sub un unghi exotic si izolat national, dar mai de graba sub o perspectiva mult mai larga, al unui concert de natiuni, inlesnind o perceptie incadrata in coordonatele unui teritoriu familiar cititorului strain. Prin acest rationament autorul a facut incursiuni esentiale in tari ca Franta, Spania, Italia, Germania sau Anglia, tari care timp de doua secole au reprezentat acel “play ground” al aristocratiei si intelectualitatii romanesti, familii ca Bibescu, Sutu, Ghica, Brancoveanu, Cantacuzino, Rosetti, Golescu, Alecsandri si mai apoi ai a unor exilati si destarati de conditii diferite – artisti si scriitori ca: Brancusi, Eugen Ionescu, Emil Cioran, Vintila Horia, Mircea Eliade, George Enescu, Dinu Lipatti, Clara Haskil, Nadia Gray, Elvira Popesc, sau Elena Vacarescu.

Nu intamplator antologia este complectata cu un corp important de circa 600 de citate, in majoritate traduse in engleza pentru prima oara, pornind de la o baza bibliografica de circa 4.000 de titluri din Romana, Franceza, Spaniola, Italiana, Portugheza, Germana, precum si unele direct din originalul Englez. Aceste sute de citate confera narativului o eruditie speciala, indemnand cititorul sa intreprinda o misiune de explorare uimitoare si exaustiva al unui teritoriu putin cunoscut. Demersul prin care autorul mentine angajat cititorul deschide  o poteca noua intr-un teritoriu virgin, dar care ofera, la fiecare pas, o perspectiva de nestavilita desfatare.

Alina Cojocaru, prima balerina a Operei Covent Garden

Pe masura ce intoarcem paginile acestei carti, descoperim o cavalcada exotica de femei, care reflecta culoarea, parfumul si vocile unor timpuri trecute, dar si ale unor vremuri care ne aduc in cotidianul actual: culori din campurile de floarea soarelui din Lunca Dunarii pana la verdele inchis al acelui “codru des” omnipresent in spiritul romanesc, acel “codru frate cu Romanul” evocat de Eminescu, iar dupa ocupatia armatelor sovietice, codrul Muntilor Carpati unde s-a refugiat si a luptat rezistenta anticomunista ai anilor ’50 si ’60.  Iarasi alte evocari ne aduc aproape de sunetul buciumului  Muntilor Apuseni pana la muzica clasica a saloanelor pariziene, dela vocile cercurilor literare, pana la cele ale celebrelor scene dela Scala, Covent Garden, Opera Metropolitana din New York, sau ale prestigioaselor Comédie Française, Teatro Real de Madrid, sau Royal Shakespeare Company. In secolele trecute, cateva dintre aceste femei, aflate mereu in cautarea unui nou ideal, sau refugiu, au ajuns uneori pe meleaguri indepartate, pe malurile fluviului La Plata, sau in cautarea izvoarelor Nilului.

Dar dincolo de acele revelatii neasteptate, ‘Blouse Roumaine’ implica  legaturi cu figurile unor oameni de cultura si politica de dimensiune internationala, in special cea Europeana si Americana. Aceste convergente si complicitati sunt posibile pentru ca romancele noastre, debarcand la Milono, Paris, Madrid, Londra, New York, Montevideo  sau Buenos Aires au inspirat poeti si compozitori, au creeat noi roluri pe scena operei si teatrului si au tinut saloane literare. Aceste muze au captivat si cucerit mari oameni politici si aristocrati, facand capetele incoronate sa viseze si sa spere, iar muritorii de rand sa isi piarda complect capul. Unele dintre ele  au reusit sa confere chiar o respectabilitate actului de sinucidere al amantilor lor, inainte de a se lepada de rochile de bal in favoarea vestimtelor manastiresti pentru iertarea pacatelor lumesti. Si totusi, in ciuda unor asemenea optiuni, sau precautii,  unele dintre cuvioasele maici au fost suspectate de a fi intreprins o ultima cucerire – aceea de a-l seduce chiar pe Dumnezeu!

Anne de Pougy nascuta Anne Marie de Chassagne, inainte de a deveni printesa Ghika: dupa o viata mondena care a captivat atentia societatii franceze in perioada Belle Epoque si-a sfarsit viata la o manastire: "Parinte, a marturist printesa duhovnicului ei, in afara de omor si de furt am comis toate pacatele"

In umbra acestor incantatoare si redutabile amazoane deslusim o armata intreaga de curtezani, amanti, admiratori, sponsori si uneori soti: regele George V al Marii Britanii, regele Alfonso XIII al Spaniei, regele Carlos I al Portugaliei, Prinnti Mostenitori ai Romaniei, contele Carnarvon, contele Asquith, contele Mathieu de Noailles, lordul Thomson of Cardington, Sacheverell Sitwell, Noel Coward, David Farrar, Paul Morand, Marcel Proust, Pierre Lotti, Anatole France, Puvis de Chavannes, Vincent Van Gogh, Mark Twain, Verdi, Puccini, Richard Strauss, Eric Satie, iar mai recent Humphrey Bogart, Lord Lloyd Webber, Roberto Alagna, Michel Foucault sau Jacques Lacan.

Dar contempland aceasta  tapiserie, aceasta ie taraneasca cu bogate cusaturi policrome, nu putem sa nu descoperim si un aspect mai sumbru al secolului XX: ecestea sunt femeile care au pierit in inchisori pentru convingerile lor politice, acele ‘passionarii” romance, care la sfarsitul celui de al doilea razboi mondial  s-au refugiat in munti impreuna cu sotii si fratii lor, organizand acel ‘maquis’ anticomunist, sau pur si simplu milioanele de  femei  ‘ilustre necunoscute’, simple taranci sau femei casnice de la oras, care au scrasnit din dinti, opunandu-se in mod tacut, dar cu incapatanare  tavalugului dictaturii.

Constantin ROMAN evoca aceste eroine printr-o recunoastere plina de tristete a distrugerii brutale,   sub communism, a culturii si societatii romanesti – o societate care inainte de razboi era plina de un dinamism descris in cartile unor autori ca: Paul Morand si Marcel Proust, Marie de Edinburgh si Patrick Leigh Fermor, Sacheverell Sitwell, Elizabeth si Margot Asquith, de  Violet Trefusis si Olivia Manning, Panait Istrati sau Gregor von Rezzori, Colette, sau Virginia Ocampo, de catre Printesa Hélène Chrissoveloni Soutso, Printesa Marthe Bibesco, sau contesa Anna de Noailles.

Aceasta era tara misterioasa de pe  “meleaguri indepartate” care a inspirat celebrele versuri ale Dorotheei Parker:

Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song, /A medley of extemporanea /

Regina Maria a Romaniei in port national

And love is a thing that can never go wrong / And I am Marie of Romania

Ceea ce intr-o traducere romaneasca libera ar fi:

Viata-i un ciclu de cantec al firii /  Un potpuriu de imprevizibil /

Dand gres Iubirii e imposibil / Pentru Maria a Romaniei

Unele dintre aceste femei evocate in Antologie reprezinta o societate romaneasca considerata ‘exotica’, sau ‘insolita’, societate care face obiectul corepondentei Reginei Victoria, a lui Napoleon III, sau ai primilor Mnistri Britanici Ramsey MacDonald si Winston Churchill, ai Presedintilor Roosevelt si de Gaulle. In paralel o sinergie diferita s-a materializat  printr-o serie intreaga de portrete de romance realizate de artisti straini de reputatie mondiala ca de pilda: Rodin, Ignacio Zuloaga, Whistler, Singer Sargent, de Laszlo, Vuillard, Paul César Helleu, Edmond Lapeyre, Puvis de Chavannes, s.a. Alte portrete s-au imortalizat de catre fotografi ai inaltei societati Londoneze precum: Walter Barnett, Alexander Bassano, Van Dyke, Lafayette sau Russell Westwood, sau au fost prezentate in filmele unor regizori precum Federico Fellini in ‘La Dolce Vita’ si mai recent de scenografii de opera Francesca Zamballo, si David Pountney.

Ignatio Zuloaga: portretul contesei Mathieu de Noailles, nascuta Printesa Brancoveanu (Muzeul de Arta , Bilbao)

De fapt parcurgand ‘Blouse Roumaine’  nu putem trai nici cel mai marunt moment de plictis, privind aceasta galerie de regine si femei aristocrate , dar si de femei din toate clasele sociale, femei pline de exuberanta, talent si imaginatie, care au fascinat in permanenta societatea britanica in perioada interbelica:  un exemplu tipic era  amanta regelui Carol II-lea, diabolic-de-seducatoare si  mondena (si divortata de doua  ori), Magda Lupescu, cea care i-a tinut ocupati timp de cateva decenii pe gazetarii  ziarelor de scandal, inspirand cupletul de mai jos:

Have you heard of Madame Lupescu
Who came to Romania’s rescue?
It’s a wonderful thing
To be under a King:

Is democracy better I ask you?

iar in traducere libera in romaneste:

Lupescu e-adevarat

Romania a salvat:

Ca sa stai sub un rege

E sublim, se-ntelege:

Nu-i democratia-usor de suportat?

La celalalt capat al spectrului descoperim femei inspirate de idealuri mai inalte; femei care si-au ales cariera de piloti de razboi, care au castigat medalii internationale de parasutism, care au realizat performante istorice de zbor fara co-echipier, trecand pentru prima oara Marea Mediterana, singure la mansa, sau devenind campioane mondiale  de atlentism, dar si devenind sufragete  zgaltaind din temelii redutele monopolului masculin in profesii ca diplomatia internationala, arhitectura, sau dreptul – femei dotate cu autentice “cojones”, care au inspirat mase de femei sa le urmeze exemplul.

Pentru ca aceste fiinte pline de viata, femei tenace dar si frumoase, fie ele ca ar fi luat drumul exilului sau ca ar fi optat sa ramana in tara, sub dictatura, au avut fiecare  in parte de istorisit  o poveste extraordinara sau poate cel putin au putut sa ne ofere un crampei de citat memorabil. Pentru ca “Blouse Roumaine” nu reprezinta doar o ‘Corala al Romaniei’ dar si un ‘Memorial al Durerii’, fiindca firul vietii acestor romance, mame, sotii, surori, reprezinta chiar acea pelicula de film care se desfasoara in fata ochilor nostri si care nu se poate rezuma doar la simple bucate pentru gustul initiatilor  academici: aceste vieti sunt de fapt o liturghie ortodoxa, o epifanie romaneasca care, prin ochii mintii, readuc la viata, o realitate fascinanta, dar estompata de sita vremii sau de amnezia preprogramata impusa de vremelnici guvernanti, o realitate care are catene organice nebanuite in subconstientul European.

Acest narativ al ‘iei romanesti’, prin continut lui  liric, dar si spiritual, cu accente satirice, fara compromisuri, poate aparea unor cititori, pe undeva, daca  nu polemic, cel putin sfidator, prin acele incursiuni in meandrele  istoriei recente, care  reflecta o realitate politica schizofrenica, a unei lumi plina de contraste si contradictii, pentru ca, in complectarea acestei perioade istorice, cititorului i se ofera o retrospectiva a unei epoci mai emotive a Golgotei ispasite sub comunism de o natiune intreaga: mai precis de eopca intunecata si necrutatoare a Anei Pauker si a Elenei Ceausescu, dar si al poetilor de Curte si ai unor pitici morali si saltimbanci, umbre din trecutul apropiat care explica mostenirea sistemului communist in Romania post-moderna.

Considerand toate aspectele mentionate mai sus, putem conchide, revenind tot la marchizul de Tamarón, ca  sinteza de imagini bipolare dar conjugate in paginile antologiei  “Blouse Roumaine” reprezinta o marturie cu totul aparte, marturia:

“unei bucurii, a unei dureri si al unui privilegiu  in a pastra memoria si prin acest act de pietate in a prezenta frumusetea fizica al unor glorii trecute, un obiectiv pe care autorul si l-a asumat  cu un brio si cu o  ‘joie de vivre’ inegalabile”.

“Blouse Roumaine  – Antologie de Femei  Exceptionale”

Selectectie, prezentare si editare  de Constantin Roman,

Cu o Prefata de Catherine Durandin (Profesor la INALCO, Paris)

(Text in limba engleza, 1.100 pagini, 160 biografii critice, 600 citate, 4.000 referinte bibliografice, 6 indexuri)

Constantin ROMAN, PhD (Cambridge), Professor Honoris Causa, Commander of the Order of Merit,

Constantin ROMAN, scriitor Anglo-Roman resident la Londra, doctor al Universitatii din Cambridge, Profesor Honoris Causa al Universitatii din Bucuresti, Comandor al Ordinului pentru Merit (Roomania), este Geofizician Consilier International pe probleme de Energie si fost Consilier Personal al Profesorului Emil Constantinescu, Presedintele Romaniei (1996-2000).

Catherine DURANDIN autoarea Prefetei Antologiei este scriitoare, istorica, analista politica, autoarea  unor romane si carti de istorie despre Romania,  Profesoara la INALCO (Institut National de Langues et Civilisations Orientales) de la Paris .si consiliera a Guvernului Francez.

Comanda Antologia in limba Engleza:

http://www.blouseroumaine.com

Vintila HORIA (1915, Romania-1992, Spain)

Vintila HORIA (1915, Romania – 1992, Spain)

(Poet, Novelist  Diplomat, WWII concentration camp Detainee, Exile, Academic, Winner of the  1960 Goncourt Literary Prize)

Écrivain français d’origine roumaine (Segarcea, Roumanie, 1915 — Madrid, 1992).  Son œuvre en langue roumaine ainsi que ses écrits en français, Journal d’un paysan du Danube (1966) ou Persécutez Boèce (1987), entre autres, sont marqués par le thème de l’exil auquel il a été lui-même confronté durant presque toute sa vie pour son opposition au régime communiste et son anti-soviétisme. Une campagne politique acèrbe menée par les milieux communistes en France, inspirés par les services secrets Roumains le contraignit à refuser en 1960 le prix Goncourt pour son roman Dieu est né en exil.

DEDICATION (Horia Vintila)

Through streets of Babylon I look confused

For Thee my Lord to come in your pursuit

My voice is hoarse and broken like a lute

Which lost its soul for being over used.

For Thee, my Lord, I search in vain the mornings

At crossroads laden with the traffic warnings

My restless body tired without reason

Through hints of winter and of barren season.

You see, my Lord? To cope I do not seem

As you elude me through this tangled maize

Give me a sign to dedicate in praise

My heavy pen, my poem and my dream.

Do steel my voice and make the strings resound

My  forehead with Thy gentle hands surround

To place me on the whiteness of the page

And live again Thy spirit as a sage.

Rendered in English by Constantin ROMAN

(all rights reserved, 2009)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n7gLVe1p94k&feature=related

Inchinare   (Horia VINTILA)

Prin targuri, Doamne, sufletul mi-alunec
Si printre oameni in zadar Te caut.
Mi-e glasul rupt si ragusit: un flaut
Cu sufletul rapus de prea mult cantec.

Te-astept in dimineti intunecate,
Prin zgomotul rascrucilor umblate
Si-am obosit de cand Te caut Doamne,
Prin zvon de ierni si prin uscate toamne.

Nu vezi? Sunt singur si prea greu mi-e scrisul
De-a nu Te fi-ntalnit pe nici o cale.
Da-mi semn sa-nchin Minunatiile Tale,
Condeiul greu, poemele si visul.

Fa-mi glasul drept si coardele sonore,
Cuprinde-mi fruntea-n maini de aurore
Si lasa-ma pe albul unei pagini
Sa ma culeg sfios dintre paragini.

NOTE: The English version of this poem is to be found in the forthcoming  Anthology of Romanian Poetry in Translation:

Traducerea in Engleza face parte din Antologia intitulata “Poeme Razlete – Random Poems”, de Constantin ROMAN, editata de “Centre for Romanian Studies (London)”

“Poeme Razlete” – “Random Poems” by Constantin ROMAN, edited by the Centre for Romanian Studies (London)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n7gLVe1p94k&feature=related