Gellu Naum

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Pentru Gellu Naum / for Gellu Naum Editura LiterNet 2003

Redactori / Editors :
Razvan Penescu rpenescu@liternet.ro
Anca erban aserban@liternet.ro

Editor format .pdf Acrobat Reader / Editor for the pdf Acrobat Reader:
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Coperta / Cover design: Dan Stanciu
Fotografie de / Photograph by: Gheorghe Rasovszky

Text : 2003 autorii i Iulian Tnase (coordonator)/ authors and Iulian Tnase (coordinator)
Toate drepturile rezervate autorilor / All rights reserved to the authors.

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ISBN: 973-8475-18-x

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pentru
Gellu Naum

for
Gellu Naum


Volum coordonat de / Volume coordinated by
Iulian Tnase

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Cuprins / Contents

Fotografie de grup cu Gellu Naum.................................................................................................................................................................... 11
Group Photo with Gellu Naum.......................................................................................................................................................................... 14
CONSTANTIN ABLU (Bucureti)............................................................................................................................................................ 17
Scurta albastr .................................................................................................................................................................................................. 17
The blue jacket................................................................................................................................................................................................... 19
TEFAN AGOPIAN (Bucureti) ....................................................................................................................................................................... 21
Mama mea obosit ............................................................................................................................................................................................ 21
My weary mother............................................................................................................................................................................................... 21
RICHARD ANDERS (Berlin) ............................................................................................................................................................................ 22
Pentru Gellu Naum scris n parte culcat ........................................................................................................................................................... 22
For Gellu Naum partly written laying down ..................................................................................................................................................... 23
Fr Gellu Naum zum Teil im Liegen geschrieben............................................................................................................................................. 24
J.T. BARBARESE (Philadelphia)...................................................................................................................................................................... 25
Sub luna albastr............................................................................................................................................................................................... 25
Under the blue moon ......................................................................................................................................................................................... 27
ILINCA BERNEA (Bucureti) ........................................................................................................................................................................... 29
ntlnirea ........................................................................................................................................................................................................... 29
Strange meetings ............................................................................................................................................................................................... 32
JAMES BROOK (San Francisco)...................................................................................................................................................................... 35
n memoria lui Gellu Naum............................................................................................................................................................................... 35
G.N., in memoriam ............................................................................................................................................................................................ 35

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ION COCORA (Bucureti)................................................................................................................................................................................. 36
Gellu Naum........................................................................................................................................................................................................ 36
Gellu Naum........................................................................................................................................................................................................ 37
ANDREI CODRESCU (New Orleans) .............................................................................................................................................................. 38
Ratarea unei ntlniri ......................................................................................................................................................................................... 38
The failed encounter .......................................................................................................................................................................................... 39
IRA COHEN (New York) ................................................................................................................................................................................... 40
Pentru Gellu Naum, cu ocazia primei sale lecturi n America.......................................................................................................................... 40
For Gellu Naum On The Occasion Of His First Reading In America .............................................................................................................. 41
MIRCEA DINESCU (Bucureti) ....................................................................................................................................................................... 42
De ce mi-e fric de Gellu Naum........................................................................................................................................................................ 42
Why I am afraid of Gellu Naum ........................................................................................................................................................................ 43
RZVAN EXARHU (Bucureti)........................................................................................................................................................................ 45
aum.................................................................................................................................................................................................................... 45
aum.................................................................................................................................................................................................................... 46
IOAN FLORA (Bucureti).................................................................................................................................................................................. 47
Iapa Dunrea..................................................................................................................................................................................................... 47
The Mare Danube.............................................................................................................................................................................................. 52
VASILE GRNE (Chiinu) ........................................................................................................................................................................... 57
gellunaum.......................................................................................................................................................................................................... 57
gellunaum.......................................................................................................................................................................................................... 58



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VAH GODEL (Geneva).................................................................................................................................................................................... 59
Cnd zgura..................................................................................................................................................................................................... 59
When the cinders............................................................................................................................................................................................ 59
Quand les scories........................................................................................................................................................................................... 59
ADELA GRECEANU (Bucureti) ..................................................................................................................................................................... 60
ntrebtorul........................................................................................................................................................................................................ 60
The Inquirer....................................................................................................................................................................................................... 61
NORA IUGA (Bucureti).................................................................................................................................................................................... 62
Nimic iari nimic ............................................................................................................................................................................................. 62
Nothing still nothing.......................................................................................................................................................................................... 62
GREGOR LASCHEN (Utrecht) ........................................................................................................................................................................ 63
Temeiurile Occidentului .................................................................................................................................................................................... 63
The Grounds of the Occident............................................................................................................................................................................. 63
Abendlands Grnde ........................................................................................................................................................................................... 64
OANA LUNGESCU (Londra)............................................................................................................................................................................ 65
august 2001 ....................................................................................................................................................................................................... 65
August 2001....................................................................................................................................................................................................... 66
VIRGIL MIHAIU (Cluj) .................................................................................................................................................................................... 67
Taii mei de la nou-sute-chenz, ce nu s'au ntlnit dect n acest poem constnd din catrene....................................................................... 67
My fathers of nineteen-quinze, who did not meet except in this poem consisting of couplets........................................................................... 71
FELICIA MUNTEANU (Bucureti).................................................................................................................................................................. 75
Vai de capul meu ............................................................................................................................................................................................... 75
Poor Fellow Me!................................................................................................................................................................................................ 77


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HERTA MLLER (Berlin) ................................................................................................................................................................................ 79
Pentru Gellu Naum............................................................................................................................................................................................ 79
For Gellu Naum................................................................................................................................................................................................. 79
Fr Gellu Naum................................................................................................................................................................................................. 80
VALERY OISTEANU (New York) ................................................................................................................................................................... 81
Partea cealalt .................................................................................................................................................................................................. 81
The other side .................................................................................................................................................................................................... 82
OSKAR PASTIOR (Berlin)................................................................................................................................................................................ 83
Dou fragmente pentru Gellu Naum................................................................................................................................................................. 83
Two fragments to go to Gellu Naum.................................................................................................................................................................. 85
Zwei Fragmente fr Gellu Naum....................................................................................................................................................................... 87
IOANA PRVULESCU (Bucureti) ................................................................................................................................................................. 89
Hazard obiectiv ................................................................................................................................................................................................. 89
Objective chance ............................................................................................................................................................................................... 90
SIMONA POPESCU (Bucureti) ....................................................................................................................................................................... 91
KATSINA ........................................................................................................................................................................................................... 91
KATSINA ........................................................................................................................................................................................................... 94
GHEORGHE RASOVSZKY (Bucureti) ......................................................................................................................................................... 97
ntr-o zi de noapte ............................................................................................................................................................................................. 97
In a day of night................................................................................................................................................................................................. 99
SEBASTIAN REICHMANN (Paris) ............................................................................................................................................................... 101
Marea noapte din zi......................................................................................................................................................................................... 101
The Great Night of Day ................................................................................................................................................................................... 103
La grande nuit du jour..................................................................................................................................................................................... 105

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FRANKLIN ROSEMONT (Chicago).............................................................................................................................................................. 107
Simetrie perfect.............................................................................................................................................................................................. 107
Perfect symmetry ............................................................................................................................................................................................. 108
PENELOPE ROSEMONT (Chicago).............................................................................................................................................................. 109
Spinoza ............................................................................................................................................................................................................ 109
Spinoza ............................................................................................................................................................................................................ 110
JOACHIM SARTORIUS (Berlin) ................................................................................................................................................................... 111
Prima noapte ................................................................................................................................................................................................... 111
The first night .................................................................................................................................................................................................. 112
Die erste Nacht ................................................................................................................................................................................................ 113
DAN STANCIU (Bucureti) ............................................................................................................................................................................. 114
De la rsrit la spus, de la apus la regsit...................................................................................................................................................... 114
From East to saying, from West to rejoining .................................................................................................................................................. 115
ALEX. LEO ERBAN (Bucureti) .................................................................................................................................................................. 116
pisigaleria naumiensis..................................................................................................................................................................................... 116
cats' gallery...................................................................................................................................................................................................... 117
ELENA TEFOI (Bucureti)............................................................................................................................................................................ 118
Dect toate acestea, mai greu ......................................................................................................................................................................... 118
Rather than all this, it is harder ...................................................................................................................................................................... 119
IULIAN TNASE (Bucureti) ......................................................................................................................................................................... 120
29 septembrie 2001.......................................................................................................................................................................................... 120
September 29, 2001 ......................................................................................................................................................................................... 122


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CHRISTIAN TNSESCU (Bucureti) ......................................................................................................................................................... 124
Ziua dinaintea aniversrii Zenobiei ................................................................................................................................................................ 124
The day before Zenobia's Birthday.................................................................................................................................................................. 127
SASHA VLAD (San Francisco)........................................................................................................................................................................ 130
Polilogogram pentru Gellu i Lygia Naum................................................................................................................................................... 130
Polylogogram for Gellu and Lygia Naum....................................................................................................................................................... 130
ERNEST WICHNER (Berlin).......................................................................................................................................................................... 131
Btrnul poet .................................................................................................................................................................................................... 131
The old poet ..................................................................................................................................................................................................... 132
Der alte Dichter............................................................................................................................................................................................... 133

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desen de Lyggia Naum /
drawing by Lyggia Naum

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Fotografie de grup cu Gellu Naum


Exist momente cnd realitatea devine incalificabil i de neacceptat. Ziua de 29 septembrie 2001 a
reprezentat, fr ndoial, un astfel de moment. Dispariia fizic a lui Gellu Naum n aceast zi a nsemnat pentru
muli dintre apropiaii si, dar mai ales pentru d-na Lyggia Naum, ceva cu totul inacceptabil. Noi tiam sau cel puin
speram c Gellu Naum nu moare aa, cu una, cu dou, c btrnul din Copacul-animal, stnd "mort pe blegar n
groapa lui contemplativ" este cu totul altcineva. Acum nelegem ns c ne-am nelat, c btrnul care "sttea mort
cu o plrie veche pe cap" nu era altcineva, c discipolii care i spuneau: "Te respectm. Iat are loc solemna ta
comemorare" ar putea fi, printre alii, chiar autorii acestei antologii comemorative.

Aceast carte s-a nscut firesc, aa cum numai lucrurile fcute din dragoste se pot nate. Ea este prilejuit de
mplinirea unui an de la moartea celui mai mare poet suprarealist romn. Textele ei alctuiesc mpreun un fel de
antologie a iubirii, depozitar a unui fragment al unei memorii colective care poart amprenta lui Gellu Naum. Cu
cteva excepii, textele din carte snt poeme.

Coordonnd aceast antologie, am neles o dat n plus ct de iubit a fost i este Gellu Naum de oameni att de
diferii ntre ei, dar foarte asemntori n dragostea pe care i-o poart descoperitorului Zenobiei. Toi cei 37 de
autori ai crii au ntmpinat cu bucurie ideea realizrii unui volum colectiv dedicat lui Gellu Naum. Andrei Codrescu
i-a trimis poemul a doua zi dup ce a primit invitaia. La fel i Joachim Sartorius. ntr-o scrisoare ctre doamna
Lyggia, Herta Mller nu i-a ascuns bucuria c poate "s participe la cartea pentru Gellu Naum". Mircea Dinescu i-a
amintit, n anul 2002, de ce i era fric de Gellu Naum, n 1985. Sasha Vlad care, mpreun cu Jim Brook, a tradus n
englez Zenobia a trimis printre primii nu un text, ci o polilogogram, un joc vizual care ne arat c graniele dintre

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cuvintele "Lygia" i "Gellu" snt inexistente atunci cnd orizontalitatea (privirii) este sinonim cu verticalitatea
(obiectului). Ct privete graniele dintre Lyggia i Gellu Naum, acestea niciodat nu au existat i cei care le cunosc
povestea tiu foarte bine acest lucru.

i dac tot am ajuns aici, trebuie spus c un rol deosebit de important n conceperea acestei antologii l-a avut
doamna Lyggia Naum. Nu o dat mi-a mrturisit c ine foarte mult la aceast carte i c abia ateapt s apar. i
ateptarea aceasta nu a fost deloc una contemplativ: doamna Lyggia i-a consumat mult energie n discuii lungi,
nu ntotdeauna reconfortante, pn cnd, mpreun, am dat contur unei idei. I-am citit cu voce tare fiecare text al
crii i i-am surprins pe chip bucuria i, totodat, tristeea pe care i le producea lectura textelor n care Gellu Naum
era omniprezent. Cnd, mpreun cu Dan Stanciu, i-am propus s-i publicm n carte unul din desenele acelea
mediumnice, despre care se vorbete n romanul Zenobia, dar i n volumul Surrealist Women. An International
Anthology (University of Texas Press, Austin, 1998), editat de Penelope Rosemont, n Salvarea speciei. Despre
suprarealism i Gellu Naum, de Simona Popescu (Editura Fundaiei Culturale Romne, 2001) sau n Gellu Naum, Pote
roumain prisonnier au chteau des aveugles, de Rmy Laville (Editions L'Harmattan, 1994) doamna Lyggia nu a
ezitat s fie de acord. Este pentru prima oar cnd un desen mediumnic de-al doamnei Lyggia apare tiprit ntr-o
carte n Romnia.

Dup toate semnalmentele, antologia de fa pare a fi o fotografie de grup care-i cuprinde n cadru pe cei mai
apropiai prieteni ai lui Gellu Naum. Fotografia este, fr doar i poate, reprezentativ, dei nu neaprat exhaustiv.
Dac cineva nu a ncput n acest cadru, este numai vina hazardului obiectiv. Deoarece autorii textelor din carte
provin din spaii culturale diferite (Romnia, Germania, Statele Unite, Frana, Elveia), i pentru c am considerat
necesar ca fiecare dintre autori s poat avea acces la textele celorlali, am hotrt ca toate textele s fie
traduse/publicate nu doar n limba romn, ci i n englez. De asemenea, textele care au fost scrise ntr-o alt

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limb dect romna sau engleza apar i n versiunea original, respectiv n german sau francez. Am ales engleza ca
numitor comun al tuturor textelor, din motive lesne de neles.

Cartea Pentru Gellu Naum datoreaz mult ctorva persoane al cror sprijin n apariia ei a fost esenial.
Mulumirile se ndreapt firesc ctre: Dan Stanciu, Dan Matei, Ernest Wichner, Octavian Logigan, Nora Iuga, Christian
Tnsescu, Sasha Vlad i Jim Brook.

Cred c aceast carte i-ar fi plcut lui Gellu Naum i, mai ales, l-ar fi bucurat s-i vad prietenii mai vechi sau
mai noi strni laolalt, n jurul su. Probabil ne-ar fi mustrat puin pentru c am scris frumos despre dumnealui, dar
nu s-ar fi suprat pe noi i ne-ar fi iubit mai departe. Cred, de asemenea, c s-ar fi recunoscut n oglinda acestei
cri, cci, n definitiv, adevratul autor al ei nu sntem noi, cei prezeni n aceste pagini, ci el, btrnul-tnr
suprarealist, att de prezent n realitatea i suprarealitatea noastr.


Iulian Tnase

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Group Photo with Gellu Naum


There are moments when reality becomes unspeakable and unacceptable. The day of September 29, 2001,
represented, undoubtedly, such a moment. The physical disappearance of Gellu Naum on that day meant for many of
those close to him and especially for Lyggia Naum something totally unacceptable. We knew, or at least hoped,
that Gellu Naum would not die that easily, that the old man from The Animal-Tree lying "dead on dung in his
contemplative hole" was someone else altogether. But now we realized that we were wrong, that the old man who
"lay dead with an old hat on his head" was not someone else, that the disciples who were telling him, "We respect you
/ Look your solemn commemoration is taking place," could be, among others, even the authors of this
commemorative anthology.

This book was born naturally, as only things originating in love can be born. The occasion of its appearance is
the one-year anniversary of the greatest Romanian surrealist poet's death. The texts that compose this book make
up together a kind of anthology of love, a depository of a fragment of the collective memory that bears the imprint of
Gellu Naum. With few exceptions, the texts in this book are poems.

While coordinating this anthology, I realized once more how loved Gellu Naum was and is by people so
different from one another but so similar in their love for the discoverer of Zenobia. All thirty-seven authors of this
book greeted with joy the idea of putting together a collective volume dedicated to Gellu Naum. Andrei Codrescu
sent his poem the next day after he received the invitation; so did Joachim Sartorius. In a letter to Lyggia Naum,
Herta Mller expressed her joy at being able "to participate in the book for Gellu Naum." Mircea Dinescu remembered
in 2002 why he was afraid of Gellu Naum in 1985. Sasha Vlad who, in collaboration with James Brook, translated

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Zenobia into English was among the first to send not a text but a polylogogram; a visual game that shows us that
the boundaries between the words "Lygia" and "Gellu" are nonexistent when the horizontality (of sight) is
synonymous with the verticality (of the object). As for the boundaries between Lyggia and Gellu Naum they never
existed; a well-known fact for those who know their story.

And having reached this point, I should say that Ms. Lyggia Naum had an extremely important role in the
conception of this anthology. She confessed numerous times to me that she was very fond of this book and could
hardly wait to see it come out. And this waiting was not at all a contemplative one: Ms. Lyggia spent a lot of energy
in long and not always comforting discussions until, together, we gave form to this idea. I read aloud each text of the
book and on her face I could catch a glimpse of joy and, at the same time, sadness caused by the reading of these
texts where Gellu Naum was omnipresent. When along with Dan Stanciu we proposed to Ms. Lyggia Naum that we
would publish in the book one of the mediumistic drawings mentioned in the novel Zenobia and also in Surrealist
Women. An International Anthology (University of Texas Press, Austin, 1998), edited by Penelope Rosemont, in
Salvation of the Species: On Surrealism and Gellu Naum by Simona Popescu (Publishing House of the Romanian
Cultural Foundation, 2001), and in Gellu Naum: A Romanian Poet Prisoner in the Castle of the Blind by Rmy Laville
(Editions L'Harmattan, 1994) she agreed without hesitation. It is for the first time that one of these mediumistic
drawings by Ms. Lyggia appears in a book in Romania.

By all indications, this anthology seems to be a group photo that reunites Gellu Naum's closest friends. The
photo is undoubtedly representative, although not necessarily exhaustive. If someone didn't fit in the frame, only
objective chance is to blame. Given the fact that the authors of the texts belong to different cultural spaces
(Romania, Germany, USA, France, Switzerland), and given the fact that we considered necessary that each author had
access to the others' texts, we decided that all texts be translated/published not only in Romanian but also in

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English. Also, the texts written in languages other than Romanian and English appear in their original version, in
German or in French, respectively. We chose English as the common denominator of all texts for obvious reasons.

For Gellu Naum owes much to a few people, whose help was essential to its publication. Thanks go naturally
to: Dan Stanciu, Dan Matei, Ernest Wichner, Octavian Logigan, Nora Iuga, Christian Tnsescu, Sasha Vlad and James
Brook.

I think that this book would have been to Gellu Naum's liking and that he would have especially rejoiced to see
older or newer friends gathered around him. Perhaps he would have scolded us a little for writing so nicely about
him, but he wouldn't have been angry at us and would have still loved us. I also think that he would have recognized
himself in the mirror of this book because, ultimately, its true author is not us, the ones present in these pages, but
him, the old young surrealist who is so present in our reality and surreality.


Iulian Tnase

(English version by Sasha Vlad)

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CONSTANTIN ABLU


Scurta albastr
(fragmente)

1.
mbrac scurta albastr de la gellu
gsesc n buzunar o bancnot mototolit
pe care sunt scrise cteva litere
m simt ca un pasager n tramvai
cu o durere brusc n inim
netiind cui s m adresez
fiindu-mi jen i ruine
cu mna stng amorit
pielea nc vie la subsuoar
i mirosul acut de via din jur
pocnetul i flama electric din cabina vatmanului
o dr umed n jurul buzelor mele
de parc port masca altcuiva
iar dinii dinii
alearg pe inele unei spaime nesfrite

2.
pun scurta albastr pe mine
cu o anume stngcie
ca atunci cnd i faci patul
ntr-o odaie strin
ca atunci cnd adormi
n rumoarea vocilor din tren

n haina aceasta pot pleca departe
simt n ea mpcarea copacilor scorburoi
care pot cdea n orice clip
simt c nu-i pas de nimic
n mijlocul strzii se oprete pe rou
parc vrnd s se sinucid
i-i mngi ncet reverele
pn cnd i revine din criz


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o, scurt albastr
cu ce m aleg eu purtndu-te pot oare
nvinge cruzimea i indiferena lumii
prin bezna mnecilor n ce direcii s-apuc
doar o zi dac mai ntrzii
buzunarele tale mucegiesc
ca pleoapele unui orb

3.
n zori
mi strecor minile
prin mnecile scurtei albastre
prin ntunericul ce-a primit i minile lui gellu
copiez ceva ce nimeni nu tie
unde se oprete

iar noaptea
nainte s m culc
dezbrac scurta albastr
i acopr cu ea telefonul
mi-o nchipui n linitea mare cobornd
spre lacul ohrid
scufundndu-se n rul ce-l traverseaz
intrnd fr spaim n marele web

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CONSTANTIN ABLU


The blue jacket
(fragments)

1.
I put on Gellu's blue jacket
I find a crumpled banknote in one of its pockets
a few letters are written on it
it feels like traveling on a tramway
a sudden pang in the heart
not knowing whom to call
embarrassed and ashamed
with my left arm gone to sleep
skin still sensitive in the armpit
and the surrounding acute smell of life
the crack and electric flame from the operator's cabin
a humid trail circling my lips
as if I wore the mask of another
and my teeth teeth
run along the tracks of a never-ending anguish

2.
I wear the blue jacket
a little awkward
as if making the bed
in a stranger's room
as if falling asleep
in the turmoil of voices on a train

I can travel far and wide in this jacket
I can feel the peace of hollowed trees
that may fall at any moment
I feel it has no worries at all
it stops on the red light in an intersection
as if attempting suicide
and I gently stroke its lapels
until it gets over this fit


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oh blue jacket
what do I get from wearing you maybe I can
see the last of the world's cruelty and indifference
through the darkness of the sleeves which way to take
one more day
and your pockets get mouldy
like the eyelids of a blind man

3.
at dawn
I work my hands
through the sleeves of the blue jacket
through the darkness that welcomed Gellu's arms as
well
I copy something that nobody knows
where it leads

and at night
before my sleep
I take off the blue jacket
I cover the phone with it
I imagine it slides in silence
toward the Ohrid lake
diving into the river that intersects it
fearlessly entering the wide web


(English version by Octavian Logigan)

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TEFAN AGOPIAN

Mama mea obosit
se dedic lui Gellu Naum

Copil fiind cotrobiam vagoane,
n vagonul cinci m-am ntlnit cu mama.
Ea era gras i se spla pe picioare.
n vagonul cinci aveam cinci ani.
Se mai ntmpl, dac nu ai uitat, c n
vagonul cinci aveai cinci ani i mama ta
se spla pe picioare. Pulpele ei erau groase
i ntre ele mi-am dat seama c stau eu.
Ce poate fi mai frumos dect o femeie gras
care se spal ntr-un lighean i un bieel
care-i nchipuie c toat viaa va sta
ntr-un smoc de pr puin umed?
M-am trt de acolo, zoaiele mi curgeau
pe fa. Ieeam din vagin, din mndra
mea mam. Care se spla ntr-un lighean
pe picioare.
My weary mother
dedicated to Gellu Naum

As a child I rummaged through train carriages
in carriage number 5 I ran into my mother.
She was fat and she was washing her feet.
I was 5 in carriage number 5.
It so happens, in case you do not remember, that in
carriage number 5 you were 5 and your mother
was washing her feet. Her thighs were heavy
and I realized I was staying between them.
What can be more tempting than a fat woman
who washes in a washbasin and a little boy
who imagines he would always stay
in a tuft of moist hair?
I crept away, the lees falling
from my face. I took the way out of the vagina out of my proud
mother. Who was washing her feet in a washbasin.

(English version by Octavian Logigan)

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RICHARD ANDERS


Pentru Gellu Naum scris n parte culcat

ncercuit e vrful limbii de un roi de cuvinte n timp ce dinii mei minusculi gheari stau mprejur ca intuii n
semicerc i par cu ntunecatele crevase s observe un cuvnt dup altul cum piere pe vrful limbii dovedindu-se de
prisos pn cnd doar acele cuvinte mai rmn care in piept vrfului limbii i astfel nu se mai rostesc

Cum se falsific de spaim cuvintele rmase ratate de orbul vrf al limbii de parc n-ar zbrni prin gura mea ci
ar edea ca ochii mui n gvanele lor atavice sub fruntea bulbucat expuse ploii de sgei din privirea slbticiunii

De ea de mult au fugit retrgndu-se n grota capului s nu cad prad n oroarea limbii mele grele
nfierbntate de neinut n fru urmnd o singur prdalnic dorin

cuvntul potrivit s-l nimereasc ntocmai ca un ochi al nimnui


(traducere din limba german de Nora Iuga)

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RICHARD ANDERS


For Gellu Naum partly written laying down

Circled is the tip of tongue by a swarm of words while my teeth miniature glaciers lie around it as if startled
inside a semicircle and they seem to notice with their dark crevasses word after word as they disappear from the tip
of tongue being supplementary until only those words remain that withstood the tip of tongue and thus they are not
uttered anymore

How are falsified because of dread the words that remained that were mistaken by the blind tip of tongue as if
they did not buzz in my mouth but they could instead see like speechless eyes in their atavistic depths under the
bulging forehead that was exposed to the rain of blood from the look of the beast

They fled from it a long time before retreating to the grotto of the head and they are not prey to the horror of
my heavy tongue heated unleashed pursuing one unquenchable wish

The right word to hit exactly as the eye of nobody


(English version by Octavian Logigan)

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RICHARD ANDERS


Fr Gellu Naum zum Teil im Liegen geschrieben

Ein Pulk von Wrtern kreist um meine Zungenspitze whrend meine Zhne winzigen Eisbergen gleich wie
angewurzelt im Halbkreis herumstehen und mit ihren dunklen Kavernen zu beobachten scheinen wie ein Wort nach
dem anderen auf der Zungenspitze zergeht und sich so als nichtig erweist bis nur solche Wrter brig bleiben die zu
der Zungenspitze gengend Abstand halten und so unausgesprochen bleiben

Erschrocken verdrehen sich die brig gebliebenen von meiner blinden Zungenspitze verfehlten Wrter so als
schwirrten sie nicht in meinem Mund herum sondern sen noch als stumme Augen in ihren angestammten Hhlen
unter wulstiger Stirn dem Pfeilregen der Blicke wilder Tiere ausgesetzt

vor dem sie sich lngst in die Hhle meines Kopfes zurckgezogen haben um dem Horror meiner schweren
feurigen scharfen nicht mehr im Zaum zu haltenden Zunge anheim zu fallem die nur der einen Begierde folgt

das richtige Wort zu treffen wie Niemands Auge

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J.T. BARBARESE


Sub luna albastr
(fragmente)
(pentru Gellu Naum)

Aciunea este aezarea
oaselor fosile ntr-un cerc de frnghii

i cum copilul neinstruit a plecat
spre alte ri de-a lungul unei coaste de sticl fumurie

pornind pentru totdeauna spre lumea
pe care o cuta. Sub lun

barurile strluceau i aerul
muca ncet din puternicul aici-i-acum al verii

rnd pe rnd. Luna i apsa pasul
cu geometria unui avion cu reacie. n timpul zilei

fizica tinereii i arta
fosilele sub un acoperi cu bolt

pn ce lumea umplea un muzeu
cu biei care caut secrete. Totul era afar-nuntru.

Oasele uriae de pe pietre i fereau
umbra de soare. Cerul

apra linitea n lume
i lumea era deplin n camerele sale

loturile, spaiile, diamantele din
lanurile cu cenu, muzeul universitii


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n care numele obiectelor se tot schimbau
ca indicatoarele strzilor i luna, nemernica, ncepu s hoinreasc.

i o u se trnti.

.......................................
......................................., o fereastr

parc urlnd la mine deschise ua
s-a nchis nspre mine, a stat o vreme i s-a dus

acum
n fiecare vedere nevzut, cntnd
cntecul pe care se pare c l-ai cntat i tu

i care ne spune tot drumul unui biat
care mpletea frnghii

sub boltele albastre, i mai aminteti?



(n romnete de Octavian Logigan)

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J.T. BARBARESE


Under the blue moon
(fragments)
(for Gellu Naum)

The plot is the disposition
of fossil bone in a ring of rope

and how the unguided child walked
abroad around a dark glass coastline

shoring off for good the world
he looked for. Under the moon

the monkeybars shone and the air
nibbled at summer's hard here-and-now

a thing at a time. The moon stamped
with a jet's geometry. By day

the physics of being young displayed
like fossils beneath a vaulted roof

until the world in a museum filled
with boys seeking secrets. Everything was outside-in.

The giant bones on the flagstones tucked
their shadows away from the sun. The sky

stood for silence in the world
and the world stood whole in all its rooms

the lots, the courts, the diamonds in
the cinderfields, the university museum


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where its objects' names were turned around
like streetsigns and the moon, that rat, went roaming.

And a door slammed.

.......................................
......................................., a window

as though screaming at me open and the door
shut on me spun around and gone

now
in every sight unseen, singing
the song it sounds like you've sung

and talking the way around a boy
who fingered the ropes

under blue vaults, remember?


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ILINCA BERNEA


ntlnirea
n memoria lui Gellu Naum

N-am s spun nimnui despre ntlnirile noastre din interiorul ferestrei

Ieri era mai trziu dect azi
Am tcut n cor ca s ne auzim mai bine
Am ateptat dimineaa cu pietre pe mas i ploi n pahare
Eu sus pe un munte, El i mai sus, pe o cmpie
Spunndu-mi n cuvinte de iarb: Zenobia e clciul meu invulnerabil

O s vezi c umbl descul pe acoperiuri nalte
Numai ea tie numele i rostul fiecruia dintre noi dincolo de zbuciumul aparenelor

Dinuntrul ferestrei se aude o muzic o voce se prelinge peste capetele noastre

Luna-i ntoarce minutarul dinspre zori napoi nspre noapte
ntunericul umbl singur prin cas, ne nchide fereastra



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Numai Zenobia tie s disting linia vieii n toate jocurile astea fr noim
Pe care le jucm cu ochii nchii sau deschii (e totuna)
Acum cnd fachirii suprapopuleaz planeta
Ea tie s tac despre lucrurile cu adevrat importante

Ne vom ntlni toi la poalele anotimpului mam
Zenobia o s ne tearg ochii de cenu

O s ne recompun tigvele din sunete

Sufletele nu putrezesc

Se fcea c Gellu mi scria pe ziduri, pe ape, pe frunile necunoscuilor din ferestre
"S fii cuminte dac vrei s rmi treaz!"

Voi fi cuminte, voi nfrunta lumea, n-am s-i cad prizonier
N-am s las pe nimeni s-mi nchid ochii cu comaruri
S-mi astupe gura cu himere

N-am s spun nimnui despre ntlnirile noastre din interiorul ferestrei
N-am s suflu o vorb despre copacul n lemnul cruia ne sunt ncrustate adevratele chipuri
Despre zeitatea de ap care ne hotrte paii

Ploaia m urmrea prin odi ca un cine flmnd

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O trans necrutoare mi arunca-n urechi ecoul tcerilor lui

l vedeam cu arttorul artndu-mi locul unde se termin drumurile i unde ncep treptele

acolo m atepta o cas pregtit anume pentru logodna mea
cu un mire necunoscut
din care deocamdat nu se vede dect umbra

El i Zenobia l cunosc de mult

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ILINCA BERNEA


Strange meetings
in memoriam Gellu Naum

I won't tell anybody about our inside-the-window meetings

Yesterday was earlier than today
We kept silence together for a better understanding
We waited for the next morning with rocks on the table and rains in the glasses
With me high up, on a mountain, and him even higher up, on a plain
Telling me in words of grass: Zenobia is my invulnerable heel

You'll see she walks about barefoot on high rooftops
Only she knows the name and purpose of each one of us beyond
The struggle of appearances

From inside the window music is heard, a voice flows over our heads
The moon is turning back to the night from the early morning
The darkness is walking all alone through the rooms and closing our window



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Only Zenobia knows to distinguish the life line between so many games without purpose
Games that we are playing with opened or closed eyes (never mind)
Now, when the illusionists are overpopulating the planet
She knows to keep silent about really important things

We will all meet at the foot of the Mother Season
Zenobia will clean up our eyes from cinders
She will recreate our skulls from musical sounds

The souls are not fading away

It happened that Gellu wrote to me on the walls,
on the foreheads of the unknown people in the windows:
"Behave if you want to remain awake!"

I will behave I will face the world I will fight with it I won't get caught in its prison
I won't let anybody to close my eyes with nightmares
I won't let anybody to close my mouth with fairy tales...

I won't tell anybody about our inside-the-window meetings
I won't say a word about the tree on which our real faces are carved
Or about the water daimon that determines our steps


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The rain was following me through the rooms like a starving dog
A trance without mercy was casting in my ears the sound of his silence

I was seeing his ghost with the forefinger pointed to the place where the roads end and the stairs begin

out there a home awaited my marriage to my unknown mate
for now he is invisible only his shadow could be seen but

Zenobia and Gellu know him from a long time ago


(translated by the author)

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JAMES BROOK


n memoria lui Gellu Naum

Lacrimi se risipesc n traneele solare
unde gsim deja stins acel fermector cntec negru


(traducere de Sasha Vlad)




JAMES BROOK


G.N., in memoriam

Tears are scattered in the solar trenches
where we find already extinguished that dark and delightful song

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ION COCORA


Gellu Naum

St dinaintea mrii
nsemnat cu fierul rou ca i deportaii
contempl pielea cuvintelor n cenua focului de corali
are revelaia parabolei ntr-un crng
mtsos de propoziii
simte pe vrful limbii ca pe un badijonaj cu tinctur de iod
gustul insomniei
nsceneaz spectacole protocolare de armsari verzi
face s nfloreasc pe cretetul filozofilor grdina
ndeamn troscoelul s creasc sub tlpile copiilor
coboar floarea de chiparos n sngele hingherului
inventeaz o retoric n care
aterne patul iubitei i pune ntreg harul
de a-i descrie lobul urechii

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ION COCORA


Gellu Naum

He's standing in front of the sea
branded with the red-hot iron like a deportee
contemplating the words' skin in the ashes of the coral fire
he has the revelation of a parable in the silken
grove of sentences
feeling the taste of insomnia on the tip of his tongue
like an iodine tincture bandage
he stages haughty performances with green stallions
makes gardens blossom on philosopher's heads
urges the knot grass to grow underneath children' soles
dips the cypress flower in the dog-catcher's blood
invents a word flourish in which
he lays his lover's bed and concentrates all his talent
on describing her earlobe


(English version by Virgil Stanciu)

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ANDREI CODRESCU


Ratarea unei ntlniri
poem pentru i cu Gellu Naum

Se stingea pumnalul rou
i luminile de la Intercontinental
i telefonul elibera o tocan de voci
nc neobinuite cu libertatea
le-am ascultat un anotimp incert
"Dac vii, Codrescu, vino imediat."
Era prin mijlocul lui ianuarie 1990
veneam de la Jim Brook cu noi traduceri
i un buchet de bune urri din San Francisco.
"Nici azi nici mine nu ne poi lsa"
s-a agitat productorul
"c satelitul trece numai de dou ori pe zi"
"Da, da", i-am spus, "dar un Gellu Naum
numai o dat pe secol!"
i eram gata s dau satelitul dracului
dar apoi a nins i au trecut dou zile imense
cnd zvonurile i mpucturile nu erau
nc desprite i turma ziaritilor
s-a adunat sub satelit s-i transmit
povetile fr noim
i Gellu Naum s-a suprat pe mine
nu venisem imediat la apel
povetile lui fermecate nu le-am auzit
s-au dus direct n urechile vntului
prostiile sateliilor au czut din cer n arhive necitite

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ANDREI CODRESCU


The failed encounter
poem for and with Gellu Naum

About when the red blade broke
and the Intercontinental Hotel lights went out
and the phone was vomiting a stew of voices
not yet used to speaking freely
I listened in the uncertain season:
"If you visit me Codrescu, come now."
It was in mid-january 1990
in Bucharest & I had been sent by Jim Brook
with a sheaf of new Naum traductions
and a bouquet of good wishes
from San Francisco to hand to the maestro.
"You can't go now or tomorrow!"
shouted my producer, "the satellite
only goes overhead twice a day!"
"OK, but a Gellu Naum only once a century!"
& I was ready to defy the satellite
but then it snowed & two immense days
rolled by made from rumors and gunshots
not yet sorted out & I crowded in with the herd
of the world press spouting uncertain stories
into the satellite going like a sheep overhead
and Gellu Naum was mad at me
because I hadn't responded to his appeal
I failed to hear his magical stories
which were released into the wind of Now
while the idiot tales streamed down
from satellites into unread archives


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IRA COHEN


Pentru Gellu Naum, cu ocazia primei sale lecturi n America

Timothy Baum aplaud fiindc minile sale
snt amorite
Miguel Algarin ia n mn penisul de plastic al lui
Valery
i descoper virtuile sngelui
sub pielea bine ntins,
invoc pe Ramses & oraele antice glbui,
coapte de soare
George-Therese o briz proaspt din
Hawaii
mprtie prin camer un aer cu parfumuri amestecate
Bill Wolak este vlguit de
copiii dezechilibrai emoional
(Noi tot vom merge ntr-o zi la New Jersey)
Ce elixir romnesc mi nfierbnt creierul,
ce elocven latin mi d un tic nervos
invizibil?
Nodulii limfatici mi se umplu cu mercur
iar uvoiul meu de pipi ndreptat n sus
contrazice gravitaia, teribila vanitate
de a fi n via.


(traducere de Iulian Tnase)

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IRA COHEN


For Gellu Naum On The Occasion Of His First Reading In America

Timothy Baum claps because his hands
are asleep
Miguel Algarin takes Valery's plastic
cock
in his hand
and discovers the virtues of blood
under stretched skin,
invokes Rameses & the sunbaked straw
cities of antiquity
George-Therese a fresh breeze from
Hawaii
blows thru the room an air of mingled
fragrance
Bill Wollak is drained by the
emotionally unbalanced children
(We will go one day to New Jersey)
What Rumanian elixir fevers my brain,
what Latin eloquence makes me twitch
invisibly?
My lymph nodes fill with mercury
and the upward flow of my piss
contradicts gravity, the terrible vanity
of being alive.

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MIRCEA DINESCU


De ce mi-e fric de Gellu Naum

ncurajat probabil de timiditatea-mi nnscut, cineva, la o ntlnire cu cititorii, m-a ntrebat dac nu cumva
mi-e fric de potopul tinerilor poei ce s-a abtut cu mult zgomot i binecuvntat furie peste literatura
contemporan.
Am rspuns sincer i dezarmat: mie mi-e fric de Gellu Naum. Nu fiindc ar avea alura unui tietor de lemne
nnobilat de regina Angliei, aflat n week-end n satul Comana, ci datorit cuptorului su de alchimist ce mi-a
marcat copilria literar ca o boal celest nct i astzi i simt dogoarea i flacra magic.
La gura Athanorului su am neles c multe butoaie cu cerneal i hectare de hrtie s-au consumat zadarnic n
literatur. Fiindc Gellu Naum a demonstrat cum se poate obine cu puin plumb fie el i tipografic aurul necesar
pentru a rscumpra tcerile de altdat.
Mergi pe strad i cnd dai colul te izbeti de un vers de Gellu Naum.
Strlucitor i insolent.
Nu poi scpa de el. Vrei s-l prti autorului i el i rspunde c e stul de atta tat
Ne-am obinuit pn la urm cu straniile lor siluete i oricum Bucuretiul avea cam puine statui.
Zilele acestea Gellu Naum se preface a mplini aptezeci de ani.
Ca i cum suprarealismul ar putea mbtrni. Ca i cum nu din plria Sa ar ni tinerele generaii.
S-l lsm aadar pe marele poet, retras n citadela poeziei romne Comana , lng cuvintele sale de trestie
i papur i, ca nite elevi srguincioi i citadini ce sntem, s-i silabisim versurile cuneiforme.
1985

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MIRCEA DINESCU


Why I am afraid of Gellu Naum

Probably roused by my inborn shyness, someone, at a reading, asked me whether I was afraid of the deluge of
young poets who prey on contemporary literature in tumult and blessed fury.
Disarmed I replied in all earnestness that I was afraid of only Gellu Naum. Not because he has the stance of a
woodcutter that has been ennobled by Her Majesty the Queen of England who was in the village of Comana during
one weekend, but because of his alchemist's furnace that left its mark on my literary childhood, as if a celestial
malady, and I feel the tepidity of its magical flames even today.
At the mouth of his Athanor I understood that many barrels of ink and hectares of paper were wasted in
literature. Because what Gellu Naum demonstrated was that with some lead, be it typographical lead, one may
ransom the wanderings of yore.
You are walking on the street and when you go around the corner you stumble on a verse from Gellu Naum.
Bright and brazen.
You cannot get rid of it. You want to tell on it, directly to its author, and what he replies is that he had enough
of such much father.
We eventually grew accustomed to their strange silhouettes and anyway Bucharest had only a few statues.
These days Gellu Naum pretends he is seventy.
As if surrealism could grow old. As if young generations are not taken out of its hat.

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Therefore let us leave the great poet, who retreated to the citadel of Romanian poetry, Comana, with his
spirited and turbulent words, and because we are his diligent students and his citizens, let's spell out his cuneiform
verse.
1985

(English version by Octavian Logigan)

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RZVAN EXARHU

aum

afar era atta linite
se auzea cum se las de mult ntunericul
minile mi fluturau ca nite batiste grele de lacrimi
auf wiedersehen bye-bye adieu nici nu mai tiu
toate erau pregtite la locul lor crtiele
le artau rtciilor drumul spre suprafa
pmntul se rotea ncet dar tot mai rmneam
din cnd n cnd n urma noastr
pe poduri drmate ne astupam urechile i strigam
unde suntem
din rsuflarea noastr se ridica vntul
rupea copacii
ne arta drumul noi l urmam cu ochii nchii
nu vedeam cum capetele ni se aprind ca nite tore
la orizont
pclind cocoii
atunci cntau i lumea o lua din nou de la nceput

21 noiembrie 2001

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RZVAN EXARHU

aum

it was such a silence outside
one could hear how darkness had been falling for a long time
my hands were shaking as if handkerchiefs heavy with tears
auf wiedersehen bye-bye adieu I don't even know
everything was ranged in its own position the moles
showed to the perplexed the way to the surface
the earth was slowly revolving but we were still
from time to time lagging behind ourselves
on overthrown bridges we muffled our ears and shouted
where are we
from our breath wind revived
and felled the trees
it guided our way and we followed blindly
we could not see our heads lighting like torches
in the horizon
duping the cocks
that crowed and the world went back to its being
November 21, 2001
(English version by Octavian Logigan)

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IOAN FLORA


Iapa Dunrea
lui Gellu Naum

Crispri, convulsii, recluziuni la lumina zilei,
cderea liber ca form de supravieuire, efigiile
unui timp alexandrin.
Vai! chiar c-mi cdea mucul dup o ploaie, o viitur,
o rupere de nori pe harta poeziei romne, cu ruri
strmutate din matc,
cu poduri de ghea prbuite n lanuri de secar.

Epimenide, iat, am sosit! spune Gellu Naum
(ntre timp Victor Brauner dispruse de pe perei,
suprarealitii preau c acced la putere);
m vnzoleam prin viitoare Siberii, adstasem deja la Bug,
dar printr-un hazard, luasem calea napoi spre ar,
clare pe iapa rpciugoas i tiat n dou,
pe iapa blat zis Danube.



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Mai trecuse o clip, mai trecuse un secol, Medeea
mi porunci (tiind-o beteag) s-o njunghii, s-o-mpuc.
Mi se fcuser nite noduri n mae, limba mi se-mpletici n gnd
chioptam cu mna cu care scriu,
nu mai aveam trai nici cu mine, nici cu alii,
ce mai, cldarea cerului alunec i czu, mplntndu-se pe jumtate
n pmntul patriei lor tricolore i mute.
i-atunci se gsir nite biei sritori de prin Vlcea,
de prin Teleorman i-i luar ntr-o clipit viaa beteag i pielea;
pielea o cocoar pe greabnul unui cal alb btnd n retragere,
iar marul meu spre pulpana patriei deveni
forat i mai ales glorios.
De-acum nainte, Bugul era departe, ce s mai zic de Kurile
sau Vladivostok.

Epimenide, iat, am sosit! spune Gellu Naum
(cretanul Epimenide adoarme, pe vreme de furtun,
ntr-o scorbur de gorun i rmne
acolo vreme de o jumtate de secol),
iapa mea Danube
este acum mnu sau gheat, rzboiul meu
pdure de lupi.


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Epimenide! Epimenide!
(Aici intervine imaginea, istorisirea printelui Cleopa
dintr-o toamn de acum civa ani,
aceea cu chelarul Haralampie urmrind n genunchi i pas cu pas
vulturul care iei din amvon, apoi din curtea bisericii,
apoi din lumea mnstirii, se zburtci ntr-un ulm i cnta,
Doamne, ce mai cnta!
Printele Cleopa era ncredinat c acest chelar Haralampie
vzuse Raiul, tot ascultnd
vulturul cntnd i c revenise
n sfntul lca dup o or i ceva, ceea ce
n termenii notri agreti nseamn pe puin un veac
i nc jumtate).

Epimenide, Epimenide!
Epimenide, iat am sosit! spune Gellu Naum.
Pielea ta e mpestriat cu litere.
Iapa mea Danube e rtcit acum
n pielea ei rtcit
prin stepe i gri,
doamna, creatura, nluca zis Medeea mrturisete n toate
cele patru zri cum c omul e simpl fiertur de ierburi.


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Epimenide, am sosit!
Iat mdularele morfologice ale iepei mele pre nume Danube,
iat comuna mea, iat Comana
unde am nvat s pescuiesc pltic, mrean, vorbe, verbe, vorbe,
iat pielea tbcit cu nisip, cu sare
a iepei zis Danube, atrnnd de greabnul
calului alb btnd n retragere.
Epimenide, s-ar putea s plec, scorbura ta de gorun
nu mai e scorbur i nu mai adpostete somnul visului
dup attea decenii ncheiate.
Trei ani la rnd nu am scos o vorb, mergeam n largul blii
mai pescuiam, mai tceam.
Ca petii, ai zice, dar nu este aa.
De respirat, vorbeam pe cnd nu scoteam un cuvnt.)

Stau scufundat n fotoliu.
Semiobscuritate, tunete, fulgere
afar.
Nigredo i C.G. Jung, catrenul de semne imemoriale,
gama, ying i yang,
dicteul automat drept toiag patriarhal, ceasul de ore
rtcit prin cas.


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(Scriu acest poem pe marginile unui catalog al pictorului Maxim D. purtnd titlul Vemnt, locuire cuc, mi
nvemntez adic poemul n nuiele, n lut, n pleav, poemul este acel cuc;
Vemnt, 190x60x80 cm;
tehnic: nuiele, lut, pleav, foi de aur;
materia nuiele mpletite, lut, blegar, rini sintetice, culoare;
locuirea drept capacitate de a gzdui att cucul, ct i poemul;
cucul care prin definiie neag locul,
cucul din pene i zbor, cucul
din lut, din smal;
Vemnt, locuire cuc,
poemul din nuiele mpletite, din lut, din blegar
i rini sintetice, poemul prbuit n cuc,
n lut, n smal).

Epimenide, iat, am sosit!
Pielea iepei Danube atrn ntr-o rn pe noptier,
poetul refuz cu ndrjire litera;
Medeea i fiertura ei de ierburi, Medeea i mainile ei de rzboi,
patriarhul suprarealist i scrie gesticulnd n aer
catrenul de semne imemoriale,
n lut, n smal.

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IOAN FLORA


The Mare Danube
to Gellu Naum

Contractions, convulsions, solitary confinement in broad daylight,
Free-fall as a form of survival, effigies
of an Alexandrian age.
Oh, I itched for cleansing rain, a raging flood
a cloudburst on the map of Romanian poetry, rivers
rampaging out of their beds,
with bridges of ice collapsed in rye fields.

Look, Epimenides, I've come! says Gellu Naum
(in the meantime Victor Brauner had disappeared from the walls,
and the surrealists seem to have acceded to power);
I was wandering through Siberias of the future, I'd already halted on the
Bug,
but by sheer happenstance I traveled the road back home
astride a mangy mare cut in two,
the Appaloosa mare called Danube.


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Another moment gone by, another century past, Medea
(certain the rickety mare was lame) ordered me to stab it, to shoot it.
My bowels were in knots, my tongue staggered on my thoughts,
I developed a limp in my writing hand,
I couldn't live with myself any longer, or others.
What's more, the cauldron of the sky slipped and fell, sticking halfway
into the soil of their mute, tricolor homeland.
Then a couple of slick boys showed up, from Vlcea,
from Teleorman, and in less than no time took her crippled life and skinned her;
her hide they draped over the withers of a white horse beating a retreat,
and my march to the tail of my homeland became
a forced and singularly glorious one.
By now, the Bug was far behind, to say nothing of the Kurils
or Vladivostok.

Look, Epimenides, I've come! says Gellu Naum
(Epimenides of Crete sleeps during stormy weather
in the hollow of an oak and stays there
the space of half a century),
my mare Danube
is now a glove or a boot, my war
a forest of wolves.


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Epimenides! Epimenides!
(Here intrudes an image, the story of Father Cleopa
one autumn some years ago,
with steward Haralampie following on his knees, step by step,
and an eagle that issued forth from the pulpit, then into the churchyard,
then into the wide world of the monastery,
taking flight high into an elm and singing.
O Lord, how it sang!
Father Cleopa became convinced that this steward Haralampie
had beheld Heaven while listening to
the eagle singing and that he had returned
to the holy edifice after an hour and something rather more, which
in our rustic measurement means at least a century
and a half.)

Epimenides, Epimenides!
Look, Epimenides, I've come! says Gellu Naum
Your skin is speckled with letters.
My mare Danube is lost now,
lost in its skin
in steppes and railways stations;
the grande dame, the creature, the ghost called Medea, confesses to the four
corners of the earth that man is simple broth of herbs.

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Epimenides, I've come!
Here are the morphological limbs of my mare by the name Danube,
here is my commune, here is Comana
where I learned to fish for bream, barbel, words, words, words,
here is the hide of mare the mare called Danube,
dressed with sand, with salt, hanging from the back
of the white horse beating a retreat.
Epimenides, I should go away, your oak hollow
is no longer a hollow and no longer shelters the sleep of the dream
after so many decades on end.
(For three years in a row I didn't utter a word, I'd go to the pond
I'd fish, ever silent.
Silent like the fish, you might say, but that's not so.
In breathing, I spoke, though making no sound.)

I've sunk deep in an armchair.
Semidarkness, thunder outside,
lightning.
Nigredo and C.G. Jung, the quatrain of immemorial signs,
gamma, yin and yang,
automatic writing as patriarchal staff, the clock that chimes the hours
lost somewhere in the house.


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(I'm writing this poem on the border of a catalogue of the painter Maxim D.
bearing the title Garment, dwelling cuckoo. That is, I dress my poem
in the trappings of twigs, in clay, in chaff, the poem is that cuckoo;
Garment, 190 x 60 x 80 cm;
technique: twigs, clay, chaff, gold leaf;
material woven wattles, clay, manure, synthetic resins, pigment;
dwelling as the capacity of lodging both cuckoo and poem;
the cuckoo which by definition denies location,
the cuckoo of feathers and flight, the cuckoo
of clay, of enamel;
Garment, dwelling cuckoo,
the poem of woven wattles, clay, manure
and synthetic resins, the poem collapsed into cuckoo,
clay, enamel.)

Look, Epimenides, I've come!
The hide of the mare Danube hangs sideways on the nightstand,
the poet stubbornly refuses the alphabet's letter;
Medea and her broth of herbs, Medea and her war machines
gesturing in the air, the surrealist patriarch goes on writing
his quatrain of immemorial signs,
in clay, in enamel.
(translated by Adam J. Sorkin with Alina Crc)

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VASILE GRNE


gellunaum

de la o vrst ncolo omul i adulmec umbra
ca un copil las s i se odihneasc lumina n palm
zile ntregi st nemicat la fereastr i privete spre
gara de trenuri
de unde ar trebui s vin poeii tineri leo, simona,
dan
i nva s reproduc linitea lui interioar
de care nu se mai teme aproape deloc

uneori se ateapt pe sine vede mai mult dect ar
putea el nelege
ascult muzic cnd plou pune trompetele lui
Hndel
i aa se retrage n materia secret a viselor sale
cnd revine e ntotdeauna bucuros aa pare
i spune ceva care mai tempereaz solemnitatea
discuiei noastre
de pild: "eu n-am tras nici un foc de arm n rzboi /
am mers cu calul meu
flmnd i slbit prin Basarabia pn n Rusia / mi-era
fric i mil / am
fcut i o grip nervoas / i medicii ncurcai au
recomandat s fiu lsat
n pace"

"un poet nu omoar pe nimeni niciodat
ceilali l omoar pe el" spune zmbind i se
retrage din nou n materia secret a viselor sale


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VASILE GRNE


gellunaum

from a certain age onward man scents his own shadow
the way a child would let light rest in his palm
days on end he stands immobile by the window and he
looks toward the train station
from there the young poets should arrive leo, simona,
dan
he learns how to reproduce his inner calmness
of which he is no longer afraid almost at all

sometimes he waits for himself he sees more than he
could understand
he listens to music when it rains, he plays Hndel's
trumpets
and this is how he retreats to the secret matter of his
dreams
on returning he is always satisfied or so he seems
and says something to moderate the gravity of our
discussion
for instance: "I never fired a shot during the war I
traveled on horseback
famished and weakened through Basserabia all the way
to Russia I was
afraid and I had pity / I developed a nervous flu the
doctors confused
recommended that I should be left alone"

"a poet kills no one, ever
the others see the end of him" he says smiling and he
retreats once more to the secret material of his dreams



(English version by Octavian Logigan)

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VAH GODEL


Cnd zgura
lui Gellu Naum

Cnd zgura va umple ntreaga vale
cnd dipterele vor avea dini de lup
cnd pruncii vor lsa gravide moaele
cnd n glum roboii vor maimuri oamenii
cnd morii-i vor prsi patul de marmor
ca s-ntmpine navele spaiale

(n romnete de Constantin Ablu)




When the cinders
to Gellu Naum

When the cinders fill the whole valley
and Diptera have the teeth of a wolf
when newborn babies impregnate midwives
when robots mimic humans for fun
when the dead relinquish their marmoreal beds
so as to welcome spaceships

(English version by Octavian Logigan)


Quand les scories
Gellu Naum

Quand les scories combleront la valle
Quand les diptres auront des dents de loup
Quand les nouveaux-ns engrossiront les sages-femmes
Quand les robots singeront les hommes pour se distraire
Quand les gisants quitteront leurs lits de marbre
Pour saluer les vaisseaux de l'espace

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ADELA GRECEANU


ntrebtorul

Nu l-am cunoscut pe Gellu Naum n persoan. Nu am amintiri cu el. Nu pot s povestesc ntmplri
miraculoase cum pot cei care l-au cunoscut. Dar l iubesc. De cte ori l citesc, mi vine s bat din palme i s strig:
"Da! Da! Da!". Recunosc adesea ce spune. "Da!"-ul pe care l rostesc citindu-l are cele mai diverse nuane de la
mirare i fric, la amuzament i bucurie.
Am convorbirile mele cu el. Am i nite jocuri. De pild, odat am avut o ntrebare, am deschis o carte a lui i
am primit rspunsul. n timp ce scriu aceste lucruri, mi spun c ar trebui s fac i o demonstraie. i caut o carte a
lui i dau de ntrebtorul.
Cnd mai am nelmuriri, iau ntrebtorul i el mi deschide ua.
Gellu Naum este o eviden cu umor. mi pare ru c n-am vorbit cu el. Triesc ntr-o cas cu pisici. Cred c
l-ar fi interesat asta.
ncerc s-l percep altfel: cu ajutorul ntrebtorului i printr-o metod personal care se numete nelegerea
drept n inim. Aa percep, de fapt, tot ce m intereseaz.

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ADELA GRECEANU


The Inquirer

I have never met Gellu Naum in person. I don't have memories of him. I cannot recount miraculous events the
way those who knew him can. But I love him. Every time I read from him, I feel like clapping my hands and shouting:
"Yes! Yes! Yes!".
I am frequently aware of what he is saying. My uttered "Yes!" has the most diverse nuances from wonder and
fear, till amusement and joy.
I have my private talks with him. I also have some games we play. For instance, I once had a question, so I
opened a book of his and received my answer. While I am about writing these things I feel I should make a
demonstration. And here I am looking for one of his books and come across The Inquirer.
When I have misunderstandings, I take The Inquirer and he opens the door for me.
Gellu Naum is fact and humor. I am sorry I have not met him. I live in a house full of cats. I bet he would have
been interested.
I try and perceive him in a different way: with aid from The Inquirer and through a personal method that is
called understanding straight to the heart. This way I perceive, as a matter of fact, everything I am interested in.


(English version by Octavian Logigan)

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NORA IUGA


Nimic iari nimic

acolo departe
vreau s-i scriu
ce nu i-am spus niciodat
snt un cui bont
snt floarea unui cui fr rdcin
care nu-i trage apa din zid
nici sngele din deget
snt un creier fr oxigen
mut ca un nger
czut din paradis
n ldia cu scule
d-mi un nume
ca s pot disprea



Nothing still nothing

there in the distance
I want to write to you
what I never told you
I am a blunt nail
I am the head of a nail without roots
that does not absorb water from the wall
or blood from fingers
I am a brain that lacks oxygen
speechless as an angel
fallen from paradise
in some toolbox
give me a name
so that I may disappear


(English version by Octavian Logigan)



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GREGOR LASCHEN



Temeiurile Occidentului

Temeiurile Occidentului
stule de promisiuni
adun sensul epocilor
lungile umbre ale miturilor. Vorbria
noastr zeloas nfurat
n paturi groase de zpad
se traduce
n ultima var, nceputul
viselor lipsite de sunet, n
albul joc de artificii al celor
care au vorbit naintea noastr
de singurtatea lambrisat descris
pe ambele pri. Ce ne crete
pe suflet este muchiul
pe crmizile cerului.


(traducere din german de Nora Iuga)


The Grounds of the Occident

The grounds of the Occident
fed up with promises
gather the means of the era
the long shadows of myths. Our zealous
chatter bundled up in
thick beds of snow
translates itself
in the last summer, the beginning
of soundless dreams, in
the white fireworks of those
who talked before us
about the paneled loneliness described
on both sides. What grows on
our souls is the moss
from the sky's bricks


(English version by Octavian Logigan)


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GREGOR LASCHEN


Abendlands Grnde

Abendlands Grnde, von
Versprechen satt sammeln
den Epochensinn ein, die
langen Schatten der Mythen. Unsere
eifrige Rede, von dicken
Decken aus Schnee umwickelt,
bersetzt sich
in den letzten Sommer, der Anfang
der tonlosen Trume, in
die weien Feuerwerke derer
die vor uns redeten von den
einsamen Tafeln, auf beiden
Seiten beschrieben. Was unsre
Seelen bewchst ist das Moos
auf den Ziegeln des Himmels.

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OANA LUNGESCU


august 2001

urcnd dealul sacru
la Chichicastenango
doa Flavia preoteasa Maya
duce un buchet gros de lumnri
negre pentru duhurile rele
roii pentru sntate roz pentru dragoste
albastre pentru uurarea sufletului
bluza ei neagr
cu trandafiri roii brodai
mi amintete de altundeva
sus aprinde tmie
pentru Gellu i Lygia
lumnrile ard dou cte dou
se ntoarce spre mine i spune
sunt lucruri pe care
nu le poi
schimba

furtuna tropical strnge
i scutur Golful Mexico
cerul se rstoarn
peste cabinele telefonice
care n-au habar
de codul pentru Bucureti
cnd nimeresc n sfrit
Lygia spune
Gellu se ntoarce acas
tu ai grij cu furtuna aia
i ploaia terge toate hotarele


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OANA LUNGESCU


August 2001

climbing the sacred hill
in Chichicastenango
doa Flavia the Maya priestess
carries a fat bunch of candles
black for the evil spirits
red for health pink for love
blue for lightness of heart
her black blouse
with embroidered red roses
reminds me of somewhere else
at the top she burns incense
for Gellu and Lygia
as the candles flicker two by two
she turns to me and says
some things
you cannot
change

the tropical storm embraces
and shakes the Gulf of Mexico
the sky pours itself down
over the phone booths
that ignore
the code for Bucharest
when I get through at last
Lygia says
Gellu is coming home now
look after yourself in that storm
and the rain
blurs all borders


(translated by the author)

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VIRGIL MIHAIU


Taii mei de la nou-sute-chenz, ce nu s'au ntlnit dect n acest poem constnd din catrene

1.
tatl meu
i gellu naum
erau nscui
n 1915

2.
unul
poet al medicinei
cellalt
medic al imaginaiei

3.
traversaser
premoniiunea resbelului civil
fr s-l ntlneasc
pe dal

4.
la 1941 n gara buzu
tata l-a ntrebat
pe-un soldat german:
Wohin gehen Sie, Fritz?


Nach Moooskau!
sun rspunsul
nsoit de ameninri cu pumnul
spre rsrit

5.
dup patru ani
n acelai loc
dete peste rus:
Kuda idioi, Ivan?


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din trenul vecin
bietanul n uniforma armatei roii
entuziast:
Na Berlliiin!

6.
comunicasem cu
gellu naum
metafisicamente
citindu-l

7.
pn la urm
chiar l-am vizitat
acas
pe aceeai

strad unde locuia
partenera mea de
coresponden
din timpul liceului svetlana


apostolescu aceea cu
ochi albatri
blonda purttoare de
fuste minuscule


amorul nostru virtual
era mai puin surrealist
dect dansurile macabre
inventate de politicieni

8.
la plngerile mele
despre neansele pogorte
prin regimul
totalitar

pohetul mi rspundea
sec:
domnule
rul e'n lume



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9.
cnd am ndrznit s public eseul
lirica lui gellu naum vzut din aerostatul jazzistic
un turnavit ventilator-de-stat
i-a descrcat asupra mea


gazul cu care fusese umplut
dup numirea
n altissima funcie de
ambelan de viezuri

10.
pe msur ce
printele meu real
aluneca jovial spre
senectute


gellu naum lua asupr-i
atributele de
tatl meu
obosit
11.
amndoi
mi asigurau
oaze
de libertate

12.
presimeam c printelui meu
i tatlui meu literar adoptiv
le fusese alocat
acelai traseu temporal: imediat dup


moartea ultimului suprarealist
tata i
ncepu
stingerea

13.
a fost primul cadavru
pe care l-am inut n brae
aveam senzaia c se preface sau se joac
lsndu-i braele inerte

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14.
gilu i gellu
dei nu se cunoteau
plecau tot mpreun la fel cum
apruser pe lumea iluziilor

15.
secolul care ncepea
fr ei
se anuna
i mai insuportabil

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VIRGIL MIHAIU


My fathers of nineteen-quinze, who did not meet except in this poem consisting of couplets

1.
my father
and Gellu Naum
were born
in 1915

2.
one was
a poet of medical science
the other was
a doctor of imagination

3.
they had encountered
the premonition of the Civil War
without meeting
dal


4.
in 1941 in the Buzu station
my father asked
a German soldier:
Wohin gehen Sie, Fritz?


Nach Moooskau!
came the answer
followed by a menacing fist
showing the east

5.
four years later
in the same place
he ran into a Russian soldier:
Kuda idioi Ivan?



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from the parallel train
the youth in Red Army uniform
enthusiastically answered:
Na Berliiiin!

6.
i had communicated with
gellu naum
metaphysically
while reading him

7.
i eventually
visited him even
in his own house
on the same

street where lived
my partner
in penpalship
from highschool days svetlana


apostolescu the one
with blue eyes
the blonde wearer
of pencil skirts


our virtual love affair
was less surrealist
than the dance of death
devised by politicians

8.
at my complaint
on the ill omen brought down
by the totalitarian
regime

the Pohet would reply
bluntly:
mister
evil belongs to the world



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9.
when i dared publish the essay
the lyrical art of gellu naum seen from the jazzistic
aerostat
a state informer
poured on me

the fumes he was filled with
after his nomination
to the most high function
of a chamberlain over rodents

10.
on and on as
my real father
was joyfully sliding
toward senescence


gellu naum would take on himself
the attributes
of my tired father

11.
they both
assured for me
oases
of liberty

12.
i had a feeling that to my parent
and to my adoptive literary father
the same temporal trajectory
had been allotted: immediately after


the death of the last surrealist writer
my father himself
made a start of
his death

13.
he was the first cadaver
i ever held in my arms
i thought that he was pretending or playing
letting his arms inert

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14.
gilu and gellu
although they had not met
left in the same manner
as they surfaced in this world of illusion

15.
the century that began
without them
was hailed
as even more unbearable

(English version by Octavian Logigan)

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FELICIA MUNTEANU


Vai de capul meu

E teribil de competent n dragoste face multe exerciii
Nu folosete sentimentele separate are o singur vrst
Nici mcar nu te privete dect mult mai trziu
Te gndeti c te poate vedea aici n buctrie dansezi
Pentru el rzi bei ap totul se leag crede c eti acolo
tie mai bine
Toute la vie sera pareille ce matin
Da ba da
Ba da ba da
Baad ua la baad
Baad ua la baad
On iraaaaaa ba da ba daaaaaaa
Unii fac exerciii teribile zeci de ani eu abia m in aici
Orice adiere orict de plpnd m duce cu ochii ti n orice direcie
M ridic de la pmnt m flutur m mprtie
n picturi apoi o singur pictur infim m ag de fiecare
Piatr i de fiecare copac de troleibuz de prieten de ceac


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De crile mele de copilrie de tata de pine de obelisc
De tunel de vis de val deodat ncremenit oprit s m ascund
ntre vinioarele lui albastre i verzi s m ncrusteze acolo
ntr-o firid prfuit ntr-un felinar ntr-o arcad ntr-o minge cu buline
ntr-un ghiozdan ntr-o diminea m lai s fac pluta mi trag
Sufletul vai de capul meu

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FELICIA MUNTEANU


Poor Fellow Me!

His love competence is overwhelming trained for a long time
He doesn't put any boundary between his sentiments he has no second age
He's giving you his most expensive glance only in the end
You think he can see you here in the kitchen dancing
For him laughing drinking your glass of water everything connects he
thinks you're there
Only he has better knowledge of this
Toute la vie sera pareille ce matin
Da ba da
Ba da ba da
Baad ua la baad
Baad ua la baad
On iraaaaaa ba da ba daaaaaaa
Some practice a terrible exercise each day for decades I can hardly keep
myself from fleeing this place
Any gale no matter its strength carries me with your eyes in all direction
Lifting me up from the ground rocking me dispersing me


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In many drops then again in one tiny drop I catch my hand on each
Stone on each tree on the trolley I grab at my friend at the cup
At my books at my childhood at my father at the bread I hang from the obelisk
From a tunnel from a dream from the wave suddenly stock still stopped just to hide me
Between his gentle blue and green veins to carve a dusty recess to put me in
Into a lantern under an archway into a spotted ball
Into a school bag on a morning you let me drift on my back I rest
My soul poor fellow me


(English version by Cristian Rducanu)

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HERTA MLLER


Pentru Gellu Naum

Mai vine Tache mortul cnd i cnd
n vizit pe la birou
cum i-a trecut prin gnd s dai pe-aici
i-am spus mai ieri
pi tu nu mai eti inginer
cu ochii lui de noapte parc-i o m beat
i fac cu mna spune
pstreaz-i calmul fat o iau ndat
la picior nu vreau dect un fierbtor


(traducere din german de Nora Iuga)



For Gellu Naum

Tache the dead comes by the
office once in a while
how did you think of dropping by
I told him one of those days
you're not even an engineer anymore
with his night eyes he looks like a drunken cat
I wave to him he says
stay calm girl I'm gonna split in
a second I just want an immersion heater


(English version by Sasha Vlad and James Brook)


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HERTA MLLER


Fr Gellu Naum



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VALERY OISTEANU


Partea cealalt
lui Gellu Naum

Multe lucruri se ntmpl pe partea cealalt.
Pe partea cealalt a umbrei.
Acolo sunt elefanii roz i maimue galbene
Se torc fusele cascadelor i fluxuri roii i refluxuri ale
oceanului
De cealalt parte a oglinzii
Aici sub reflecia bazinelor de ap sacr
Toate sunetele au ecou i se multiplic
Ascult acest plnset straniu din deprtri
Sun ca dolfinii de cristal i erpi de curcubeu
Imaginea poetului este diferit la fiece secund
Rsturnat pe dos
Pot s-l vd sub orizont, sub scri, sub cmpul de
lupt
Soldatul pneumatic abandonat s viseze pe veci
Jumtate ngropat n deert
Jumtate pasre mbrind un cine tatuat
n zori de zi, totul vine n focus
Plou cu lanuri de flori i lanuri de iubii
Hoardele cu picioarele multiple ale victimelor
Se mic spre cealalt parte a neuitrii.

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VALERY OISTEANU


The other side
to Gellu Naum

Many things happen on the other side.
On the other side of the shadow.
There are the pink elephants and the yellow monkeys
The yarn of waterfalls is spun and the red fluxes and
refluxes of the ocean
On the other side of the mirror
Here under the reflection of basins of sacred water
All sounds have an echo that multiplies
Listen to this strange sobbing in the distance
It sounds like crystal dolphins and rainbow snakes
The image of the poet is different every second
Toppled backward
I can see him under the horizon under the staircase
under the battlefield
The pneumatic soldier forsaken to his eternal dreaming
Halfway down in the desert
Halfway a bird that hugs a tattooed dog
At dawn everything comes into the spotlight
It is raining chains of flowers and chains of lovers
The hordes of many legs of the victims
Are moving to the other side of persistence.


(English version by Octavian Logigan)

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OSKAR PASTIOR


Dou fragmente pentru Gellu Naum

I.
Lumin/ntuneric Se Stinge
Sus Jos/nuntru Afar Se Stinge
Schimbare Obiecie Transformare
Separaie Mas Consecin Se Stinge
iuitul Gramaticii ntr-o Tigv Ptrat Se Stinge
Abis Limita Frunziului Isogenez Rembrandt Se Stinge
Noaptea Ca Tem i/Sau Metafor Se Stinge

Nesomn Limit Curent Turbionar Zona Gri Contracie
Enorm Sete Mommsen Atlantis Orice Avnd n Vedere
Groap Soclu Epav Metru Etalon Roc Ficat Mazre
Muchii Gtului Atotputernicie Informaie Fulger Proporie Pagub
Panthof Scnceamt Limbut Tub De Respirat Fu Floare De Col Zdrean-N Rs
Nu-i Nimic Se Stinge




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Construirea Unui Cmp Sub Mas Deci i Asta
i Aia Ca Sarcin Nesarcin Acoperi Glisant Alto Cortex

Se Stinge Se Stinge


II.
A trecut ceva prin el. A meditat cu el despre asta. A meditat despre el i despre sine, a mers astfel cu el i prin sine.
Era pentru el un munte s mearg cu sine s-i ias din el, astfel i-a mers. Prin simul prin care se vedea mergnd,
tot mai dezobinuit. Cum i-a ieit din simul care l-a scos din munte, s-a aezat acolo. S-a dus s citeasc ceva.
Asta l-a fcut pauz. Prin pauz s-a dus citind puin.


30 septembrie 2001, Berlin

(traducere din german de Ovidiu S. Popescu)

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OSKAR PASTIOR


Two fragments to go to Gellu Naum

I.
Light/Dark His Light Goes Off
Up Down/ Inside Outside His Light Goes Off
Change Objection Alteration
Separation Mass Consequence His Light Goes Off
The Hum Of Grammar In A Square Pan His Light Goes Off
Abyss The Limit Of The Foliage Isogenesis Rembrandt His Light Goes Off
Night As Theme And/Or Metaphor His Light Goes Off

Unrest Limit Turbinal Airflow Grey Area Contraction
Deep Thirst Mommsen Atlantis Anything If We Consider
Pit Socle Wreck Meter Unit Rock Liver Sweet Peas
The Jugular Muscle Allmightiness Information Blizzard Proportion Damage
Shoe Yelp Free-spoken Iron Lung It Was Corner Flower Rag Laugh
It Is Nothing His Light Goes Off




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The Building Of A Site Under The Table That As Well
And That As A Duty Free Of Duty Covert Sliding Alto Cortex

His Light Goes Off His Light Goes Off


II.
Something entranced him. He meditated with himself over it. He meditated over him and over himself, he walked
himself along himself this way. It was for him a mountain to go away from himself and to get himself out of it, and
this worked for him. With the sense he used to see himself walking away, still more defamiliarizing. As soon he
recovered from the sense that got him out of the mountain, he sat there. He sat and read something. This rendered
him a break. During the break he went away reading a little.


September 30, 2001, Berlin

(English version by Octavian Logigan)

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OSKAR PASTIOR


Zwei Fragmente fr Gellu Naum

I.
Licht/Dunkel Fllt Aus
Oben Unten/Innen Auen Fllt Aus
Abwand Eiwand Zuwand Fllt Aus
Ausscheidung Masse Erheblichkeit Fllt Aus
Quadratschdelgrammatiksause Fllt Auch Aus
Untiefe Laubgrenze Isogenese Rembrandt Fllt Aus
Die Nacht Als Thema Und/Oder Matapher Fllt Aus

Unschlaf Grenze Wirbelstrom Grauzone Schrumpfung
Durststrecke Mommsen Atlantis Beliebig Anbetracht
Graben Sockel Treibgut Urmeter Gneis Leber Erbsklein
Gurgelmoos Allmacht Blitzinformation Ausma Einbue
Schnuh Winst Limbutal Schnaufschlauf Wur Edel tznfetzt





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Macht Nichts Fllt Aus

Aufbau Eines Feldes Unter Dem Tisch Also Auch Dieses
Und Jenes Wie Tracht Untracht Schiebedach Alto Cortex

Fllt Aus Fllt Aus


II.
Ging mit ihm was durch. Sann mit ihm dem nach. Entsam sich ihm und seiner, ging so mit ihm durch sich sich durch.
Es war ihm ein Gebirg, mit sich zu gehn. Sich blo aus dem Sinn zu gebirgen, so ging es ihm. Durch den Sinn, aus
dem er sich gehen sah, zunehmend entwhnt. Wie er sich aus dem Sinn kam, den er aus dem Gebirg rumte, rumte
er sich da ein. Er ging was lesen. Das pauste ihn durch. Durch die Pause ging er mit wenig lesen gehen.


Berlin, 30. September 2001

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IOANA PRVULESCU


Hazard obiectiv

L-am cunoscut pe Gellu Naum la telefon. Nu la un telefon ca oricare altul, ci la unul cu ecran, unde vezi i
chipul celui care vorbete. Mai mult, nu la un telefon cu ecran ca oricare altul (cum vei avea i dumneavoastr peste
vreo zece-douzeci de ani), ci la unul la care auzi tonul hazardului obiectiv. S v povestesc.
Totul a pornit de la o anchet pe care o fceam pentru Romnia literar. Am scris atunci zeci de scrisori, am
dat zeci de telefoane. Tema anchetei erau premiile literare. Am primit un rspuns i de la fostul meu profesor Florin
Manolescu, aflat la Bochum. ntr-o scurt scrisoare mi-l descria cu mult cldur pe Gellu Naum, cu care avusese o
ntlnire recent. Mi-a povestit c i visase cu cteva nopi n urm numrul de telefon, dar c n-a avut curaj s
telefoneze la numrul din vis, ca s-l verifice. Am lsat scrisoarea s zac vreo cteva zile, prins de tot felul de griji.
ntr-o sear mi-am amintit de numrul de telefon i m-am hotrt s sun, n realitatea serilor mele bucuretene, la
un poet din vis. Pe vremea aceea nu cunoteam numrul de telefon al familiei Naum, pe care azi l formez automat.
Numrul visat era altul. Eram deosebit de curioas dac-mi va rspunde sau nu Gellu Naum. Am format cifrele ncet,
cu cea mai mare grij, cu sentimentul c se ntmpl un lucru tainic. Cnd am terminat, am ridicat capul: n faa mea
a aprut chipul lui Gellu Naum care m privea direct n ochi, cu o sclipire jucu, aa cum aveam s-l vd mai trziu
de nenumrate ori. A aprut pe ecranul televizorului deschis. Am pus receptorul jos, nfiorat. Figura lui Gellu Naum
a disprut n aceeai secund: era un clip, care anuna o emisiune viitoare. Numrul din vis fusese, aadar, bun.
Atunci am neles pentru prima dat cu adevrat cum funcioneaz hazardul obiectiv.

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IOANA PRVULESCU

Objective chance

I made Gellu Naum's acquaintance over the phone. Not over a normal telephone, but over one that has a
screen where you can also see the face of the person you are speaking to. Moreover, it was not a normal telephone
with a screen, of the type you are going to have in ten or twenty years, but one where you can hear the dial tone of
objective chance. Let me tell you about it.
Everything started with an investigation I was heading for The Romanian Literary Journal. I wrote at that time
dozens of letters, and I made dozens of phone calls. The subject of the investigation was literary distinctions. I
received answers from my former teacher, Professor Florin Manolescu, who was in Bochum. In a short letter he
warmly introduced Gellu Naum to me, saying that he had met him recently. He also wrote to me that only a few
nights before he had dreamt of a phone number, but that he did not have the courage to call and verify the dream
number. Caught up in all kinds of concerns, I allowed the letter linger for a few days. One night I remembered the
phone number and I decided to call, in the reality of my nights in Bucharest, to a poet from a dream. At the time, I
did not know the Naum family's phone number, which I now dial automatically. The dream number was different. I
was very curious to see whether Gellu Naum answered. I dialed the number very slowly, with the feeling that
something mysterious was happening. When I hung up, I raised my head: before me, the face of Gellu Naum
appeared, staring straight into my eyes with a playful look, as I was to see him on numberless occasions later. He
surfaced on the television screen. I hung up, transfigured. Gellu Naum's face disappeared that very second: it was a
commercial for a forthcoming show. The dream number was, after all, correct. I understood then for the first time
what the ways of the objective chance really are.
(English version by Octavian Logigan)

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SIMONA POPESCU


KATSINA
"Pe-aici pe aproape printre clovnii furioi
ca un irag de clopoei
se desfoar numrul"
Gellu Naum

"There are things which exist even if you do not see them"
Snt lucruri care exist chiar dac nu le vezi
auzeam iar i iar n ctile de pe urechi
iar i iar vocea ghidului-VOCE
fr legtur cu ce vedeam n faa mea
trecnd dintr-o camer n alta pe lng
femeile din tribul Sara-Kaba, cu buzele ca nite farfurii
pe lng nite figuri ale puterii cu corpul strpuns de cuie
pe lng mandala lui Vajrasattva
pe lng Maya care viseaz un elefant
pe lng cel cu 11 capete pe capul lui
pe lng cel cu fee multe
prin camera de aur
prin faa amuletelor de dup sticl.


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Auzeam vocea din cti i-apoi
un zgomot puternic de vnt iptul de pasre-om
i freamtul maracaselor
(i eram n faa unui ncruntat idol peruan cnd
n faa marelui somnoros aztec
sau cine tie n faa crei zeiti uitate).
Nici o legtur cu ceea ce vedeam eu trecnd
(nici o legtur?).

"Dac trieti impecabil zice vocea cnd mori te faci
Katsina."
Pentru fetiele Hopi, nu e dect o ppu
o ppu din cele 250.
Mult mai trziu vor afla c e gardianul i pedepsitorul.
n cele 250 de forme ale sale. i sperie pe
clovnii furioi care zice ghidul snt greelile i slbiciunile tale.
Clovnii furioi... Cu tbliele mele

Ascultam ntr-un ora strin
vocea lui pe-un casetofon.
Era soare n mansard. Treceau norii repede deasupra.
"Ca orice poet care lucra pe propria-i piele" parc zicea


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O band de acum 10 ani.
Vocea nu se vede. Asta nu nseamn c ea nu exist.
Iar cel ce nu mai e e-acolo-n ea.

Ca orice poet care lucreaz pe propria piele
am de-a face cu clovnii furioi.
Nu tiam de Katsina.

Ca orice poet care lucreaz pe propria-i piele
o schimb.
Pielea veche o pun deoparte.
Nu m lepd. Ea se face s zicem hrtie.

Ea devine un fel de Katsina a mea.

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SIMONA POPESCU


KATSINA
"Here near among the fuming clowns
as if bells on a string
the number unfolds"
Gellu Naum

"There are things which exist even if you do not see them"
I heard on and on in my headphones
while the voice of the guide a voice
that had nothing to do with what was before me
going from one room to another from
the women of the tribe Sara-Kaba, with their lips like plates
to some figures of power their bodies pierced by nails
to the mandala of Vajrasattva
to Maya that dreams of an elephant
to the one with eleven heads on his shoulders
to the one of many faces
through the golden room
before the amulets behind the glass.



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I could hear the voice in the headphones and then
a powerful blare of wind the cry of the bird-man
and the shiver of maracas
(and here I was before a frowning Peruvian idol when
before the great sleepy Aztec
or who knows before what forlorn deity).
No connection to what I saw while passing
(no connection?)

"If you live a faultless life" said the voice "when you die you become
Katsina".
To the Hopi girls, it is barely a doll
a doll out of 250.
Sooner or later they would find out that she is the guardian and the punisher.
Under the 250 forms of hers. She scares away
the fuming clowns that says the guide are its mistakes and short comings.
Fuming clowns With my tables

In a foreign city I was listening
to his voice on a tape recorder.
Sunny attic. Clouds flew quickly above.
"Like any other poet that works with his own skin", he must have been saying


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A tape from 10 years ago.
You cannot see the voice. This does not mean that it does not exist.
And the one who no longer is, remains in it.

Like any poet that works with his own skin
I have a lot to do with the fuming clowns.
I did not know about Katsina.

Like any other poet that works with his own skin
I change mine.
The old one I store away.
I don't abandon myself. Let's just say my old skin becomes paper.

It becomes in a way my Katsina.


(English version by Octavian Logigan)

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GHEORGHE RASOVSZKY


ntr-o zi de noapte

Privit din exterior, drumul pare drept. Coboar ntr-o pant lin spre ap. Probabil c n vise un astfel de drum
are perei din sticl i asemnarea lui cu o cas prelungit ar fi accentuat de temperatura moderat din interior,
propice dezvoltrii narilor. O ncpere aproximativ central din care se vd celelalte (un fel de cinematograf)
anun un labirint cu ui dispuse lateral, amplificnd obstacolul; undeva ar trebui s existe o ieire de serviciu ctre
parcul fastuos din jur. Exist undeva n cas i o form nedefinit care aduce cu silueta unui avion de tip vechi,
instalat n punctul cel mai ndeprtat al privirii, la terminaia casei, acolo unde ncepe, de fapt, apa. La a doua sau a
treia escapad vei descoperi c aparatul, un fel de foior, servete pentru supravegherea petilor sau a trupurilor
care plutesc acolo fr s se ating. Lumina sub care se desfoar aceast tcut activitate pare s fie a Lunii i tot
de acolo, de jos, se poate observa c lumina din ncperi este artificial. Micarea i poziia corpurilor din ap snt
controlate de cel care se afl n camera principal, cea de lng pod. Senzaia mea e c acest personaj mi accept
compania dintr-o pur plictiseal. La nceput nu i-am vzut faa, dei ntr-o zi sau ntr-o noapte, cnd am ajuns
acolo, m-am aflat foarte aproape de el; prea fr vrst, nc foarte solid i avea ceva din aerul unui sculptor celebru
care i ntoarce spatele n semn de salut. Sttea aplecat peste ape, ntr-o microdelt cufundat n cea. Prea c
plnge, dar o asemenea afirmaie definea mai degrab starea mea de nelinite. L-am vzut n ntregime iluminat de
lucirea mlatinii, indicndu-mi printr-o micare lateral a minii stngi
1
cteva pietre pe care s calc apa fr s o
ating. M-am uitat pentru o clip n jos i i-am vzut culoarea neagr-fosforescent. M-am apropiat. Aveam
sentimentul c snt privit cu intensitate mai jos de brbie, acolo unde tiam c mi in portofelul i inima. Tot n acele

1
vezi fotografia de pe copert

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clipe, cuvintele lui (n-am s le in minte niciodat) s-au revelat n interiorul meu, transformndu-mi neatenia
specific ntr-un soi de observaie calm. Atunci praful s-a ridicat din ap, recompunnd ntunericul, un ntuneric mai
ntunecat dect ntunericul tuturor nopilor ntunecate i corpul meu aproape primordial s-a sprijinit de braul lui
puternic, descriind o gimnastic necunoscut, fixat de aceeai privire intens i strlucitoare, traversnd neverosimil
de lejer distane i perspective, ca o libelul uria deasupra agitaiei eterne. Am constatat, fr surprindere, c
naintarea mea lent devenise lucid i progresiv, c undeva departe cocoul cu dantur metalic urmeaz s m
cheme la suprafa. S povestesc cum e pe dinuntru. S le povestesc despre florile mici i delicate care cresc n jurul
meu i, cu plcere, s observ c nu m aude i nu m vede nimeni.

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GHEORGHE RASOVSZKY


In a day of night

Seen from outside, the path looks straight. It goes down in an unpronounced slope towards the watercourse. It
may well be that in dreams this kind of path has glass walls and its resemblance to an extended house would be
stressed by the moderate temperature indoors, proper to the development of mosquitoes. An almost central room,
from which all the other rooms can be seen (a sort of cinema hall) announces a labyrinth with doors provided on the
sides, which increases all the more the obstacle somewhere there should be an exit gateway extending to the
surrounding imposing park. There also exists somewhere in this house an indefinite form, that is a ringer of the
silhouette of a plane of the old type, situated in the farthest visible point, at the corner of the house, where the
watercourse actually starts. During your second or third escape you will discover that the machinery, a sort of
shading serves the purpose of watching the fish and of the bodies that float without touching. The light under which
all this silent activity happens seems to be that of the Moon, and since we are there, the light cast in the rooms is
artificial. The movements and the positioning of the bodies from the water are controlled by the one that resides in
the main room, the one nearest to the attic. My feeling is that this character allows of my company only because he
is annoyed. In the beginning I could not see his face, although one day or one night, when reaching there, I was
drawing very close to him; he seemed beyond age, still very ponderous and he had the airs of a celebrated sculptor
that turns his back as a greeting. He stooped over the watercourse in a miniature delta covered by mist. He looked as
if sobbing but this assertion is rather an expression of my unrest. I saw him fully illuminated by the mirror of the
pond, indicating by a movement of his left arm
2
a few stones that I should tread on so I should not touch the water. I

2
see cover photography

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took a moment's look downward only to see the black luster. I drew nearer. I had the feeling I was being watched
very closely under my chin, exactly where I keep my wallet and my heart. Again at that time his words (that I would
never remember) revealed themselves inside me altering my specific lack of attention to a sort of becalmed
observation. Afterwards dust rose from the water recomposing the darkness, a darkness that was darker than any
other darkness, of any other dark night, and my almost primeval body leaned on his strong arm, describing some
unknown gymnastics, being transfixed by the same intense and shining stare, crossing with unfeasible ease
distances and perspectives, as if a huge dragonfly above the eternal tumult. I noticed, without much surprise, that
my slow progress became limpid and gradual, that somewhere in the distance the wire toothed cock is going to
summon me to the surface. So I could tell how it is from the inside. So as to tell about the small delicate flowers that
sprout around me, and to be delighted that nobody can hear or see me.


(English version by Octavian Logigan)

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SEBASTIAN REICHMANN


Marea noapte din zi
(alturi de Gellu Naum n secia de "terapie intensiv"
a spitalului Elias, n ultima sptmn)
Ceea ce demult prea
foarte departe
terenul de rugby al adolescenei
deodat aproape
de cellalt terminus
unde copiii treceau cu lumnri
deasupra umbrelelor deschise
o noapte de Pati
n timp ce soldaii de operet
le eliberau permise de trecere
permanente
sub Arcul de Triumf al canibalilor

acolo unde centrul i periferia
i schimbau locurile
cu regularitate



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se apropiau prefcndu-se
c se ndeprteaz
mpotriva umbrei amenintoare a tatlui
aplecat deasupra patului
trezirea furioas la doi ani
descoperirea distanelor de netrecut
ntre nuntru i nafar
ntre gest i cuvnt
ntre dedublare i transmutaie

viaa n violena sa extrem
de dinainte de natere
n cutarea unei forme n permanent
metamorfoz
a unui destinatar n sfrit disponibil

viaa ca dou ferestre una lng alta
nchise ermetic
n faa braelor musculoase
ale unui copac fr cuvinte

Bucureti-Paris, 24 iunie 27 septembrie 2001

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SEBASTIAN REICHMANN


The Great Night of Day
in memoriam Gellu Naum

What for a long time seemed
very far away
the rugby field of adolescence
suddenly right
next to the other terminus
where children were going by with candles
on the peaks of open umbrellas
one Easter night
while operetta soldiers
handed them permanent passes
beneath the cannibals' Arc de Triomphe

where the center and the periphery
changed places
regularly



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coming closer while pretending
to move away
Against the threating shadow of the father
leaning over his bed
the furious awakening at the age of two
the discovery of the impassable distances
between inside and out
between gesture and speech
between doubling and transmutation

life in its extreme violence
from before birth
in quest on a form in permanent
metamorphosis
of an addressee available at last

life like two windows side by side
hermetically sealed
before the muscular arms
of a wordless tree


(translated from French by James Brook)

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SEBASTIAN REICHMANN


La grande nuit du jour

Ce qui semblait pendant longtemps
trs loin
le terrain de rugby de l'adolescence
soudain tout
prs de l'autre terminus
o les enfants passaient avec des cierges
au fate des parapluies ouvertes
une nuit de Pques
pendant que des soldats d'oprette
leur dlivraient des laissez-passer permanents
sous l'Arc de Triomphe des cannibales

ou le centre et la priphrie
changeaient leurs places
rgulirement




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se rapprochaient en faisant mine
de s'carter

Contre l'ombre menaante du pre
penche au-dessus de son lit
le rveil furieux deux ans
la dcouverte des distances infranchissables
entre dedans et dehors
entre geste et parole
entre ddoublement et transmutation

la vie dans sa violence extrme
ds avant la naissance
la recherche d'une forme en permanente
mtamorphose
d'un destinataire enfin disponible

la vie comme deux fentres cte--cte
fermes hermtiquement
devant les bras muscls
d'un arbre sans parole

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FRANKLIN ROSEMONT


Simetrie perfect
pentru Gellu Naum

Apropiata nnoptare a piciorului meu drept st
n cap
Negarea negaiei a piciorului meu stng i pune
mnuile

Sandviul cu vaier al urechii mele drepte ine
un discurs
Tandemul urechii mele stngi i freac
nasul
Harta lumii a minii mele drepte se duce
s noate
Scrisoarea ctre editor a minii mele stngi mnnc
o roie coapt

Corabia cu pnze a ochiului meu drept invoc o furtun
Convorbirea internaional a ochiului meu stng
danseaz pe gura unui vulcan activ
toat noaptea


(n romnete de Alexandru erban)

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FRANKLIN ROSEMONT


Perfect symmetry
for Gellu Naum

My right foot's impending nightfall stands on
its head
My left foot's negation of the negation puts on
its gloves

My right ear's Swiss-cheese sandwich makes
a speech
My left ear's bicycle-built-for-two thumbs its
nose
My right hand's map of the world goes for a
swim
My left hand's letter-to-the-editor eats a ripe
tomato

My right eye's clipper ship sings up a storm
My left eye's long-distance telephone call
dances on the mouth of a live volcano
all night long

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PENELOPE ROSEMONT


Spinoza
pentru Gellu Naum

Furtuni de sticl
ajung s fie vremea predominant
Doamne elegante admir pisica
Iarna ajunge s fie modul
iar primvara mijloacele
Focile zboar
Omul pete
Marca potal se tampileaz singur
Scrisoarea se adreseaz ei nsi
Destinaia
nu poate fi spus
n spatele ecranului
de-a lungul drumului
va fi ntlnit

Metalele se prefac n pulbere
Confruntarea e profund


(traducere de Christian Tnsescu)

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PENELOPE ROSEMONT


Spinoza
for Gellu Naum

Storms of glass
become the prevailing weather
Elegant ladies admire the cat
Winter becomes the mode
but spring the means
The seals fly
Man walks
The postage stamp seals itself
The letter addresses itself

The destination
cannot be told
Behind the screen
along the road
it will be met

Metals crumble into dust
The confrontation is profound


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JOACHIM SARTORIUS


Prima noapte
pentru Gellu Naum

ncepea prima noapte.
Ua camerei se deschidea ntr-o camer.
Era timpul cnd brcile se retrgeau n case.
C o vel s-a aflat n mine, nu m-a surprins.
Aplauda. mi lua pulsul.
Corpului ei umed i plceau simurile. M ineau
captiv n aceast camer. nceptor,
nvam multe:


C o femeie se poate mpri n mine
fr s-i pese de mine.
C, pentru a deveni frumos,
la fiecare amurg, a trebuit s m nfiez n aceast
camer.
C mrul vrjitoarei mprit este i tare.
C o carte de petice, dac i aezi corect degetul mare,
are cinci straturi: al psrilor, al femeilor i-al
magazinelor,
al autoportretelor care imperceptibil se schimb,
al corbiilor cu pnzele de curnd umflate, cu vela
rmas de curnd
fr vlag.

Apoi portul se nchide: prima noapte.
Marea ajunge la nivelul limbii.


(traducere din german de Iulian Tnase)

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JOACHIM SARTORIUS


The first night
for Gellu Naum

The first night began.
The door of the room opened on a room.
It was the time when boats were sailing home.
That a sail should be placed inside me, it is no surprise
to me.
It applauded, It was taking my pulse.
Its wet body loved senses. They held me captive
to this room. As a beginner,
there were many things to learn:

That a woman can divides inside me
without caring much about me.
That, in order to become beautiful,
for each sunset, I had to be present in this room.
That the witch's apple is divided and hard.
That a book of rags, if you place your thumb correctly,
has five layers: that of the birds, that of the women,
and that of the
shops,
That of the self-portraits that have unperceived
changes,
that of boats with sails only recently windbeaten, the
sails weak.

Then the harbor is closed: the first night.
The sea reaches tongue level.


(English version by Octavian Logigan)

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JOACHIM SARTORIUS


Die erste Nacht
fr Gellu Naum

Die erste Nacht fing an.
Die Tr des Zimmers ffnete sich auf ein Zimmer.
Es war die Zeit, da die Boote sich in die Huser
zurckzogen.
Dass ein Segel in mir war, wunderte mich nicht.
Es klatschte. Es zhlte meinen Puls.
Sein nasser Krper gefiel den Sinnen. Sie hielten
in diesem Zimmer mich gefangen. Ein Anfnger
lernte ich viel dazu:

Dass eine Frau sich in mir verteilen kann,
ohne sich um mich zu kmmern.
Dass ich jede Dmmerung, um schn zu werden,
in diesem Zimmer mich einzufinden habe.
Dass der Apfel der Hexe geteilt ist und hart.
Dass das Flickbuch, wenn du den Daumen richtig
anlegst, fnf Lagen hat: der Vgel, Frauen und Lden,
der Selbstbildnisse, die sich unmerklich verndern,
der Schiffe mit bald vollem, bald schlaffem Segel.

Dann schliet sich der Hafen: Die erste Nacht.
Die See steigt an die Zunge.

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DAN STANCIU


De la rsrit la spus, de la apus la regsit
lui Gellu Naum, prietenul meu obosit

Cum spuneam: prea multe n-am avut de zis. Eram destul de mut (apreciez), fiindc aveam ce s tac (iar n
privina asta nu-i nimic de tcut). De cteva ori (timp de cteva ore), am avut ncotro, poate avnd ceva de gsit. O
trectoare a fost, un loc al grabei aezate pe dos, cu susul n jos (care sus nu are ctui de puin de-a face cu ncetul
ce zace acolo i zice)? Un punct de oprire pentru tragerea sufletului n piept (cu un ah ca un ha), nainte de startul
spre lemn? Sau un nu, cu trei de "u" i un tiu dup el? Am habar, dar nu-mi amintesc pe unde l-am pus asear, s-o
fi rtcit printre scule. Ori s-a rcit de la sine. Dac ar fi s vorbesc (ceea ce nu-mi st n cale), a ncepe cu tine.

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DAN STANCIU


From East to saying, from West to rejoining
to Gellu Naum, my tired friend

As I was saying, there wasn't too much to say. I was pretty mute (I assume) since I had something to pass over
in silence (and to this respect, there is nothing to keep silent about). A few times (for a few hours) I had my way, for
there was maybe something for me to find. It was a pass, a place of topsy-turvy haste it was, upside down (and its
upside has nothing to do with the slow motion that lies there and says)? A halt for catching one's breath (with an ah
that sounds like a ha) before the start for wood? Or a don't with three o's and a know immediately after it? I have my
clues, but I can't figure where I left them last night, they must have lost their way among the tools. Or they kept their
cools by themselves. If I were to talk to anyone (which is not my way), it would be you that I start with.


(English version by Christian Tnsescu)

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ALEX. LEO ERBAN


pisigaleria naumiensis

acum lygia i gellu privesc un album
din care rzbat torsturi de pisici; marii
maetri n-au avut cozi, ci gheare i spun

ateptnd s cad soarele
nlm un balon rou-oranj
pe care scrie "astzi e SRL"

un domn cumsecade joac table cu g.n.
sebi oana dan leo i alii din vreme
deseneaz pe-o tabl fiecare mutare

acum lygia i gellu au privit tot albumul
gioconda iese din cadru i bea nite lapte
din farfurioara aezat pe marginea ramei
vincent se scarpin dup ureche iar maja
vestida a adormit n tablou venus
strnut: nchidei repede cartea
nchidei galeria luvrul freamt
pereii-mblnii urmrind fici
oarecii (fugind) din bibliotec

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ALEX. LEO ERBAN


cats' gallery

lygia and gellu are looking at an art album
purrs are coming out as they turn the pages
the old masters didn't have tails, but claws they
mutter

waiting for the sun to set
we're flying a red-orange balloon
saying "Today's Sunday"

a nice chap is playing checkers with g.n.
sebi oana dan leo and others take turns
drawing on a blackboard each & every move

now that lygia and gellu have gone through it all
mona lisa comes out of the frame to drink
milk from the tray left on its edge
vincent is scratching his ear while maja
vestida is snoozing in her canvas and
venus is sneezing: close the album quickly
shut down the gallery the louvre is one huge purr
its walls all furry all watching closely
mice (running out) of the library



(translated by the author)

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ELENA TEFOI


Dect toate acestea, mai greu
lui Gellu Naum

Puine lucruri nvate de fric.
Sfrit de sptmn i monologul
cu miros alpin
la o adic de ce s-i cunoti pe de rost
prpastia aezat pe mas
cum n casele celor singuri oglinda
de ce s-o cunoti pe de rost
dac oricum nu poi face din ea o caleac?

De bunvoie vine apusul soarelui.
Degeaba se nghesuie nourii
n analize i judeci
poruncind s fie hrnii. Dect punctul
despicat n patru la timpul trecut,
dect limbile omenirii
nghiindu-se una pe alta
dect carnea urmailor ti care laud ndoiala,
mai greu este s te nhami la aceast prpastie
i s treci, trgnd-o
n deplin cunotin de cauz
dintr-o parte pn n partea cealalt.

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ELENA TEFOI


Rather than all this, it is harder
to Gellu Naum

Fewer things learned through fear.
Weekend and the monologue
with an alpine smell
I mean why should you know by heart
your precipice placed on the table
why in the houses of the lonely should you
know the mirror by heart
if you cannot transform it anyway into a coach?

Sunset draws near of its own.
In vain clouds gather
in analysis and judgment
demanding to be fed. Rather than the point
cut in four in the past tense
rather than the tongues of mankind
swallowing one another
rather than the flesh of the descendants who praise
doubt
it is harder to be harnessed to this precipice
and to cross it, drawing it
in complete awareness
from one side to the other.


(English version by Octavian Logigan)

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IULIAN TNASE


29 septembrie 2001

ntr-o zi de septembrie chipul meu a devenit altul

Dumitale trebuie s i spun domnule despre acel altul
despre chipul pe care l pstrez ntr-unul din sertarele bastarde
chipul mereu neschimbat care seamn cu mine i pe care l mbrac
seara trziu cnd singurtatea se face comod
i mi se arunc n brae

n ziua aceea de septembrie s-a ntmplat
ceea ce unul dintre noi prevzuse mai de mult:
lacrimile mi-au scrijelit obrajii
i toate liniile din palme mi s-au aternut pe fa

A fost ceva inadmisibil domnule i necesar i revolttor
a fost o palm de septembrie pe faa mea nc tnr
aveam 28 i era 29
nu puteam s mai ies n lume eram tnr domnule i eram scrijelit
de ridurile imprevizibile ale unui septembrie inevitabil

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De aceea mi-am desprins chipul de pe fa
i l-am ascuns ntr-un sertar inaccesibil
i a fost un noroc s am un chip de rezerv cu care s merg la serviciu
cci tinereea mea era de serviciu i nu putea s nu se duc

i seara cnd ajung acas
mi pun pe fa chipul septembrional de demult
i printre riduri te zresc pe dumneata
i lacrimile nu vor domnule s stea la locul lor
ci scrijelesc oglinda tnr n care te privesc

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IULIAN TNASE


September 29, 2001

On a September day my visage became an other

Sir, to you sir I should tell about that an other
about the visage I save in one of the bastard drawers
the never transfigured visage that resembles me and that I wear
late in the evening when solitude helps itself
and throws itself into my arms

On that September day happened
what one of us had before envisaged:
tears carved my cheeks
and all the lines of my palms leaned on my face

It was unqualified sir and necessary and revolting
it was a palm of September that slapped my face, still young
I was 28 and it was 29
I could no longer face the world I was young sir and carved
by the unpredictable wrinkles of a predetermined September

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This is why I tore my visage from my face
and hid it inside an inaccessible drawer
and it was pure luck that I had a spare visage to go about my duties
because my youth was on duty and it could not escape that

And when I return home on evenings
I wear my old September visage
and I can catch a glimpse of you sir among its wrinkles
and tears would not stay still sir
instead they etch the young mirror through which I look at you


(English version by Octavian Logigan)

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CHRISTIAN TNSESCU


Ziua dinaintea aniversrii Zenobiei

Minile tale strluceau ca o masc de argint
n ziua eclipsei

toate pisicile tale muriser
toate ferestrele-i fuseser acoperite
de iedera cuvintelor

la / tine-n / cuhnie / idolii / Daciei / se pre / fcuser-n / cuptoare / de lut

Se-ntunec de la prnz, nu, ha ha

Cafea fierbinte decofeinizat bun
pentru diabetul tu i pentru
lipsa mea de calciu

Am o mierl-n salcia din spatele casei
care-a tot gngurit i-a tot plvrgit ast noapte
dar tu, eh, eu am tras un pui de

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somn pe malul grlei de lng Comana cu
tmpla pe-al tu Focul negru

visele mele / necate-s / zvntate sub Marte / pmntu-i / albit iar / Venus a fost n / gropat n snge / de pete /
n scrumul de / muc de / igar

M-am trezit azi diminea cu-o anxietate inexplicabil i apoi dintr-odat mi-am amintit c-l uitasem pe Melchior
Cibinensis n grdin pe piatra pe care-am stat ieri aa c am zbughit-o din cas am fugit ntr-acolo soarele sttea
s rsar apruse acea lumin ceoas crepuscular toate lucrurile erau pierdute-n obscur am nceput s bjbi pn
cnd iat c-am zrit-o era i-acum acolo deschis pe piatr licrind n lumina dens ocru-roietic fluturndu-i i
fonindu-i foile nrourate n blnda adiere de

pietre-ale trupului/celule-ale limbii / lucesc sub cuvinte / se-nal-n suflare-mi / val orb de flcri / inund
ntreag-a lumii noi / fundtur pe unde ajung / zbucnirile ce-s iute stinse / de lumin / i numele de fapt-l / pierd

n Noaptea de Snziene drag Christi
clare pe Platon, cum bine tii
am traversat Prutul s eliberez provincia ta de batin
i-am ajuns n satul Rzi.
Era noaptea trziu i mie mi-era tare sete
ca i dragului de Platon.
M-am tot perindat eu m-am tot perindat pn cnd


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n sfrit am dat de-o fntn. Am desclecat, am nfcat
lanul / de la roata / fntnii / i-am tras;
dar n locul gleii m-am pomenit innd
o carte cu paginile leoarc. Nu puteam
distinge nici mcar un cuvnt de pe foile ude
aa c am nceput s ling s srut s beau
dintre coperi; mirosea ntocmai ca
prul mamei mele, ntocmai ca prul mamei mele

Te-ai ridicat / i-ai stins / lumina / bezna / dinuntru / s reflecte-ast / fel o noapte / radiind / n miezul / zilei

Ne-am privit n ochi
mi aminteam cum la primele noastre ntlniri
obinuiai s-mi povesteti iar i iar
despre petera mitic a lui Platon.
i auzeam minile fonind i ncercam
s-mi nchipui lucrurile pe care le scriai
n ntuneric, n aerul pe care
l respiram. Ochii mei erau larg deschii
ateptndu-te s-ajung aici i
s-mi scrii mcar cteva dintre silabele tale
sub pleoape

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CHRISTIAN TNSESCU


The day before Zenobia's Birthday

Your hands glittered like a silver mask
on the day of the eclipse

all your cats had died
all your windows had been covered
by the ivy of words

in / your / kitchen / the idols / of Dacia / had turned in / to clay ovens

It's getting dark at noon, isn't it, huh, huh

Hot decaffeinated coffee good
for your diabetes and for
my lack of calcium

I've got a blackbird in the willow at the back of the house
that's been twittering and chattering all night long
and what about you well, I took a nap

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by the brook near Comana with my
temple on your Black Fire

my dreams / got drowned / and dried under Mars / the ground / turned white / and Venus was buried / in the blood
/ of a fish / in the ash / of a cigarette / stump

I woke up this morning and I felt this unexplainable anxiety and then all of a sudden I remembered I had forgotten
Melchior Cibinensis out in the garden on the stone where I sat yesterday so I ran out of the house and went there the
sun was just about to rise and there was that dim dusky light everything was so obscure I started to fumble around
till lo I caught sight of it it was still there opened on that stone glistening in the thick red-ochre light with its dewy
leaves fluttering and rustling in the soft breeze of the

stones of the body / cells of my tongue / gleam under words / rise through my breath / blind flow of fire / floods all
the new world / dead-end that I take / short-living dim flashes / of light / that lose / the name / of action

On Midsummer Night dear Christi
riding Plato, as you well know
I crossed the Prut to liberate your homeland
and I got to the village of Rzi.
It was late in the night, and I was very thirsty,
and so was my dear Plato
so I wandered and wandered till at last
I found a well. I dismounted, grabbed the

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chain hanging from the windlass and hauled up
but instead of the bucket I found myself
holding a book with soaking wet pages. I couldn't
make out a single word on the moist leaves
so I started to lick it and kiss it and drink
from between the covers; it smelled just like
my mother's hair, just like my mother's hair

You reached out / and turned off / the light so / the darkness / inside would / reflect the / radiant / night in the /
middle of the / day

We looked into each other's eyes.
I remembered how on our first meetings
you would tell me over and over again
the story of Plato's mythical cave.
I heard your hands rustle and I tried
to imagine the things that you were writing
in the dark, in the air that I was
breathing. My eyes were wide open and
waiting for you to get here and
write at least some of your syllables
under my eyelids

(translated by the author)

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SASHA VLAD


Polilogogram pentru Gellu i Lygia Naum Polylogogram for Gellu and Lygia Naum


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ERNEST WICHNER


Btrnul poet

de neuitat spune el c ar fi fcut
ramurile cireului pe care zilnic
le-a vzut pe cnd trecea pe lng ele
via-de-vie nucul i morcovul
pe care le-a plantat dovleacul
roiile prul i floarea soarelui
luna mai foarte ploioas i mlatina
n care s-a blcit gfitul l-ar fi
fcut de neuitat cu el
ar fi ntors pmntul cu iarb bogat
i ar fi smuls ciulinii
scaiul, mzrichea i
brazdele mari pe care le-a frmiat cu cazmaua
de neuitat i ele i gfitul
cu care a prit via pietroas
de neuitat ar fi prin el iasomia
sau mslinul strmb dar i buchetul
de flori pe care el l-a nmnunchiat
i l-a aezat acolo i se uit fix acum
sta e un tablou despre care el n-ar ti unde e


(traducere din german de Ovidiu S. Popescu)

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ERNEST WICHNER


The old poet

unforgettable he says he had produced
the branches of the cherry tree that he
had seen daily on his way about
the vine the nut tree the carrot
that he planted the pumpkin
the tomatoes the pear tree and the sunflower
a very rainy May and the pond
in which he splattered the gasp
he would have rendered unforgettable with him
he would have turned the land and the rich grass
he would have plucked the bramble
the pricks and the thistle
the furrows he had worked with his shovel
them unforgettable the gasp also
he looked with at the stony vine
unforgettable through him the jasmine
or the curved olive, but also the bunch
of flowers he had gathered
and placed there where he now he stares
this is a painting he would not know where it is


(English version by Octavian Logigan)

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ERNEST WICHNER


Der alte Dichter
fr Gellu Naum

unverlierbar sagt er habe er gemacht
die Kirschbaumzweige die er jeden Tag
gesehen habe als er an ihnen vorberging
die Weinreben den Nubaum und die Mohrrben
die er gepflanzt hatte den Krbis
die Tomaten den Birnbaum und die Sonnenblumen
den regenreichen Mai und den Morast
darin er gewatet das Keuchen habe er
unverlierbar gemacht mit dem er
queckenreiches Erdreich umgegraben
und die Disteln ausgerottet habe
die Kletten die Wicken und groben
Schollen die er mit dem Spaten zertrmmert
unverlierbar auch sie und das Keuchen
mit dem er das steinige Weinland gehackt
sei unverlierbar durch ihn der Jasmin
und der schiefe lbaum auch der Strau
Blumen den er gebunden und in eine Vase
gestellt sei unverlierbar gemacht durch ihn
wie er so dasitze und sich anstarre jetzt
das heist ein Bild von dem er nicht wisse wo


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