my lord
one can no more compete today
the Japanese cup's in a shattered state
and black, the coffee dregs seem to convey
a vicious dog appearing at the gate.
the musketeers you hope that soon you'll see
three foils in their buttonhole polite
to tell you that a new poète maudit
using a garter, hanged himself last night.
the error’s in the cardinal mauve bright
which saw sweet lorelei disguised and scheming
as fishermen were drunk and sleeping tight
while of some tigris and euphrates dreaming.
you are condemned my lord
to cultivate
for each and every day a pink carnation
in vestal paradises snakes mutate
beneath your sole your own deification.
what more a king could dream for, what indeed,
when quaint, the window’s triangle grows blue
my lord
one can no more compete today
take off and hang your coat, for that will do.
(from the volume Testament - 400 de ani de poezie românească - 400 Years of Romanian Poetry - Daniel Ionita - editor and principal translator, assisted by Daniel Reynaud, Adriana Paul and Eva Foster - Minerva Publishing- 2019)
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