section winners 'Students'
Ioana Raluca Petrescu
-
prize winner
Goblins
It will rain on your wings - beware!
They bite you, the goblins, their white smiles
cold as the moon, then just stopped
a smooth path, harmful.
They will look at you, the leprechauns,
Each of his corner, motionless.
Large and dark shadows as their rise through the pines
Such long-winged smoke,
They'll appear princes, came to lose you,
dancers turned the key, turning in balls of crystal glass And
, Pseudo-
pages helpful, wearing white gloves,
Foreigners dreamers traveling on a forgotten paper dragons, for you
Gently wrap the void in silk. Te
seeking an immaterial hand, one or the other
Calls something in you to a quiet room
Where roses sleepy eyelids gently shaking their
And where marble darkens a little, it does
not hurt that you did worse
Come to finally silence.
*** In the land of snakes an old snake dies withered
His tongue becomes twisted, becoming sign
The old serpent with scales
Heavy earth, breath Heavy
reached the underground
He passes and he runs
For fungi and souls
Low
corridors cover the heavy touch its scales
bark below-world
tightens around it smells
the hollow of the substance
That looks so dumb that wisdom embodied in the thunder reptile
In severe gasoline rocky
And deep layers of centuries
stacked layers
Old Cast bronze
forgetfulness and immobility
Mass for years, material, dusty, weighs
Deposits of silence Filled
eye off the snake learns to stones
His scales go, obedient, always lower Snake
Thus
Finds matter
To finally say That
this kind of silence long dreamed
His solitude Wards narrowed by too much sun, the scales
darkened by the light of too many battles,
rendered silent to the soul as the underground caverns
by the din of too many sunsets.
Thus, the snake found
he
middle earth
his heart.
Tea My tea is a world of deep and delicate appearance
where everything speaks and says nothing. His body
clear, velvety green,
sparkle in the soul is a good sigh. His serenity
refinements leafy, secluded
misleading the ocean depths,
Dort her sleep constantly generating
a thousand subtleties royal
Or bitter - sweet as it comes. Getting
walking: dumb, looks calm, and sirens
color aroma, well shaded
plants and countless shades.
You believe that peace
extended, in this wan water and soft, like her, believe
You see fish cloudy
Train benches enigmatic key
And I do not even mention any intoxicating smoke
, fragrant, in large sails
nonchalantly escaping to the skies.
Whether you dive in, look and breath, I have no doubt
Quoiqu'énergiquement I would not recommend
The gentle beauty of these puzzles hot
Done collection of a thousand senses, and a thousand treasures you find there.
The eye of the depth is there,
welcoming, open and dense, clear waters around him, throwing
But storms mysterious green
- huge and serious blast of wind in the grass -
The Dreamer, terrible storm in a cup.
My tea, my good sirs, is a matter
delicate and frail that its own depths drunk
any consistency, so perfect, decomposes softer touch
without change, in that it
is in small fish, small dark leaves and lights,
nothing less than before, but nothing more, otherwise
aroma, bland mystery
who spends his path
Cloudy toward the clouds.
Why? - You ask me-I know not, nor
do not trust, nor grieves me, at all.
I'll drink to vot'santéEt meditate.
Vlad Parau - Castigatorul premiului II
The song of the rebel
Me, I filled the pockets
OF curses and reproaches
And I hated all those who dare to sing the
life in pink.
Me, I walk along the streets
And nobody would greet me hello
Each swear
The hypocrites and their business.
And if I die, I'd die
Life for me was a delusion,
Death is beautiful, life is drunk -
I was lucky not to live!
The umbrella of the dawn of time
It was raining at the beginning of time. It was the storm of Creation.
Destinies orphans, the blind forces of nature have been revenge for
awakened from their eternal rest,
For being aborted from the depths of the matrix of Eden.
It was raining at the beginning of time, in the agony of failure. Drop by drop
have shackled their pace obsessive, tormented, furious.
No words, no words in this first song that called the existence
As a curse on the verge of fulfillment.
And it was early, too soon.
It was raining in the depths of your eyes clear, kid, where everything became blurred.
Your blue hair cascading threw themselves forward for not flooded.
We gazed in silence at the ground covered with broken egg shells
Sub daggers storm of crime that has been called "Creation".
And it was too early for us to be born.
It rained over our fragility. And to survive, we had to love each other.
So you open your umbrella and told me: "Stay together!".
So, God knows, if we had watched from afar the two lovers kissed
under the umbrella round
There would have remained the image of a heart.
That's how you gave life to Earth, which had initially need a heart to exist.
It's raining. I sink into the grooves piously overflowing with fresh water
The handle of the open umbrella that we had met so many times.
it grows and it turns into a big tree to the crown round
which houses and protects under its branches all lovers of the world!
And when they have forgotten our history, which had been the source of each other, as once
it rain at the dawn of time and they remember
at the beginning of everything there was the union with a love for two;
it has been the umbrella.
A life in rainbow sky
I.
Along the Black Sea, eternal
Scheherazade, liar lover,
Where the Dniester gives himself up, seduced, the salty scum of the infinite,
Where old stories are still sung by the waves
In memory of a bygone age, angels and miracles,
There, on a small island enchanted Birthplace of the infancy of nations, the United
Spreads Fairy Tale.
On this island, the castle is a unique playground, which
guards - a boy and a girl - are the only inhabitants.
the middle of the park there is a tree with round crown.
Its strong branches support two swings
front where there is a scale arcuate.
Both children clamber often amused at the perfect symmetry
Between the beginning and end of their climb.
But sometimes when fatigue or boredom outweighs the
They sit on the warm sand to contemplate their scale arcuate
Painted in red, yellow and blue
Like a rainbow sky as a mystical door, like a smile in reverse.
II.
the foot of the Carpathians, where the last echoes of the shuddering forests are lost in oblivion collective
is where the city lies, is where the Kingdom of Adults begins.
Their castle, very big and too empty,
Temple of the ration of pride and decadence,
Lacking any prospect magic
Dresse its gigantic buildings, arrogant and aggressive,
contemptuously defying the sky and the sun, the sacred and true.
buildings to dozens of floors, where the captive euphemistically called "apartment",
Where the home and the prison are synonymous
Where small humanoids live their wonderful cages of concrete and steel, while
Passing their time at the computer to glorify the freedom and Fortunately,
These sacred buildings, these venerable towers, these appalling sarcophagi
drove long
mind And now remain alone in the dark
With their shadows and worries with their sins, Who
frighten even the ghosts , the last to leave,
Looking for places less sinister.
It's cold, it's gray and rainy.
But yet, the green mountains on the horizon
await the arrival of the most beautiful season,
The arrival of the Resurrection.
And it is only once a year
That the sun and rain kiss
As early time, long ago.
Only this time
That a huge rainbow in the clouds taking shape,
Covering the city from one end to another,
Based on the highest towers
which in turn become
share this building heavenly reconciliation. They look warily
the huge arch
between, on one side, hell, and the other Eden,
The huge arch, awakening memories so distant memories of a
another time.
Alas, we will forget too quickly
The old scale arcuate
Painted in red, yellow and blue,
Like a mystic gate, like a smile in reverse.
III.
On the bank of the Danube, which flows giant snake
gently bathed in the countryside with its murky waters
Loaded with legends, stories and myths,
On the bank of that old Styx
There is a peaceful cemetery where lie the memories
And the memory etched in stone for centuries. Among dreamy candlelight
piously citing light
Among the towering cross invaded by ivy,
Here begins the Kingdom of Ultimate Eternity,
Here settle the majesty of the glory dumb
The music of silence and the rate of the endless waiting.
Here time bogged down in nothingness,
Moments follow one another and are repeated forever, canceling the term: The
dawn spreading its light over the tombs of a BLUE chaste
Zenith covering this vacuum of an all-powerful yellow light;
Sunset, before the dawn of the dead, with his red light bleeding.
And these are the old colors of the rainbow, yet
dismissed as the Dead never forgives.
Night falls, the last witness to the eternal sleep
statues and crosses.
A spectrum begins to haunt the premises.
is the image scale in arc
Painted in red, yellow and blue Like a smile
unlike
Whose stones
remember one day.
IV.
Since the Carpathians and to the river Dniester,
Along the Danube to the Black Sea
Extends the ancient Kingdom of Dacia
Who, the Roman conquest,
During the turbulent history
Would take the name of ROMANIA. If
Childhood, Life and Death are the colors of the rainbow sky
Only the inhabitants of these parts can tell.
Yet even they, Romanians, do not always know why
Under the sky of their country flags flying
Painted in red, yellow and blue.
And every time they complain that life is hard,
Whenever they leave the country to seek happiness,
Whenever they work late and can no longer say "Good night" to their children, their faces tired
In there something
Who's dreaming of a ladder arc
Painted in red, yellow and blue
Like a rainbow, or rather, like a smile to the Conversely
Larisa Stefana Mihalache - castigatoarea premiului III
How close their doors the day
Poplars, you've cut
Faces, you have grimes
Hills, you've moved
What good run after the flowers in the evening?
I have no body like the wind
Why do you call me the morning? My thoughts
not raining and I have no summer sun on the eyelids.
Why are you calling me for lunch?
The mouth does not sing like birds
drink, I drink another
milk than milk from the star. My
not up long been other summits.
I will not steal the roses
I do not want to dolls with severed heads.
I can not eat what I ate.
I'm not what I was.
Without me you close the doors of today evening.
Without me.
Landscape Cloudy May
Maybe I want you to stop the wind
with your wing. Whether you approach
my eyelashes like a bird,
that you lean on him as
the big hill.
As if you jumped on
time as if you gave fruit in a full nest of bees.
Maybe I'll call you when I miss the smell of old
.
So as I feel like a cry
fell among fish
Maybe you fall dropwise
clouds on the windows
like rain down.
Maybe we wakes
voices blended as if my dreams were enveloped
of aquatic weeds.
Perhaps the shadow
forget you until the evening.
Global Warming
through us, with the first and the last drop of stale water
do not let us live, we hear even hissing of mineral water slug tries
be stickier than a tube of super glue
penetrates even reversed in the dimension of the bare cut by the stars
we hunt in four points and it is the sixth
imperfect symbiosis between the wafer and the air drop of sweat
I never thought I would bite the constellation
overheated or that I would walk in slow motion on the road too tired
the poor woman the second is agitated between grace and pathos
watered me asphalt bubbling waters
me hot asphalt
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