Adina Dajiba
Something Wild
There is something wild
like a red flower opening in the night.
There is something turning inside out
slowly and yet fast
like the blowing of a pink bubble gum balloon as you walk
away from a cheating lover
There is something wild.
You can’t see it, but it’s here
and that’s what keeps you alive.
Thanks to it, you see something else, not a tree
not a moon, not an elephant,
not a tree growing from the moon eating an elephant
but something else that the tree, the elephant, you and the moon
share in secret
something hidden
that holds the moon up in the sky
and the elephant up in the moon
and you riding the elephant
something very slow like a kiss
and yet fast, like the happiness of the line becoming a circle
something turning you inside out
that makes you really high
and really wild.
Onlylaughterandplay
to Iona
Only laughter and play
you got caught into my night’s net.
Half-child, half-wings-flutter: Onlyplayandlaughter.
I was shouting: wait, don’t run in front of the car!
You were laughing and crawling towards the road
only laughter and play.
I was running to hold you, to save you
You -- above the cars who were racing blindly
From above, you were laughing of my foolish, earthly fear
The air was filling with something round,
with your laughter, like a silky flight in the night of my heart,
Onlylaughterandplay.
Round, the air was filling
My hands were filling, my heart was filling, my ears were filling
my lungs were filling, the past-future-up-down-good-evil were filling
with the air filled
by the happiness of meeting you,
Onlylaughterplay.
Meeting you only once
Is worth a hundred wars
because I didn’t know you existed.
And the simple fact that you are
means: only, laughter, play.
The metaphor becoming reality
I poured light into that man’s skull.
He could not walk well, he had a stroke.
The light came from a flower in my garden
that I watched while it was receiving the morning sun.
A flower has its ways in the summer
it just shines its beauty to the world
A flower does not ask questions,
it is fragile yet has no doubts or hesitations.
It dances in the wind and yet knows the stillness of the moment.
A flower is strong because it is the expression of light.
I simply transplanted that flower
into that man’s spine
It is now blooming in his head
exploding its colors in his eyes
invading his nose with the fresh scent
opening all his senses to the miracle of simply being alive.
One day the wind will blow and fade it
but that’s OK, by then, as a cloud continuously changing its shape,
he will grow a blue note or a sweet candle inside him
as he will perfectly master the art of the metaphor becoming reality.
__________
Adina Dabija was born on October 15, 1974, in Aiud, Romania. From 1997 – 2000, she worked as a journalist in Bucharest, publishing in "Capital," "Success," "Playboy," "Madame Figaro," "Adevărul," "Q Media," and "Invest Romania." She studied in the masters program in multimedia communications at the Université de Sherbrooke in Québec, Canada, from 2001-2003 and received a M.A. in Oriental Medicine from Pacific College of Oriental Medicine, New York, in 2008. Since 2001 she has been an editor of www.respiro.org
She lives now in New York, where she practices oriental medicine. Her first book, poezia-papusa, was awarded the Bucharest Writers’ Association Guild Prize. Her second book, Stare nediferentiata, won the Tomis Award. Beautybeast, translated into English by Claudia Serea, was published by NorthShore Press in 2012, her first collection of poetry in English. In 2013 her novel Șaman was published by Polirom in Romania.
Something Wild
There is something wild
like a red flower opening in the night.
There is something turning inside out
slowly and yet fast
like the blowing of a pink bubble gum balloon as you walk
away from a cheating lover
There is something wild.
You can’t see it, but it’s here
and that’s what keeps you alive.
Thanks to it, you see something else, not a tree
not a moon, not an elephant,
not a tree growing from the moon eating an elephant
but something else that the tree, the elephant, you and the moon
share in secret
something hidden
that holds the moon up in the sky
and the elephant up in the moon
and you riding the elephant
something very slow like a kiss
and yet fast, like the happiness of the line becoming a circle
something turning you inside out
that makes you really high
and really wild.
Onlylaughterandplay
to Iona
Only laughter and play
you got caught into my night’s net.
Half-child, half-wings-flutter: Onlyplayandlaughter.
I was shouting: wait, don’t run in front of the car!
You were laughing and crawling towards the road
only laughter and play.
I was running to hold you, to save you
You -- above the cars who were racing blindly
From above, you were laughing of my foolish, earthly fear
The air was filling with something round,
with your laughter, like a silky flight in the night of my heart,
Onlylaughterandplay.
Round, the air was filling
My hands were filling, my heart was filling, my ears were filling
my lungs were filling, the past-future-up-down-good-evil were filling
with the air filled
by the happiness of meeting you,
Onlylaughterplay.
Meeting you only once
Is worth a hundred wars
because I didn’t know you existed.
And the simple fact that you are
means: only, laughter, play.
The metaphor becoming reality
I poured light into that man’s skull.
He could not walk well, he had a stroke.
The light came from a flower in my garden
that I watched while it was receiving the morning sun.
A flower has its ways in the summer
it just shines its beauty to the world
A flower does not ask questions,
it is fragile yet has no doubts or hesitations.
It dances in the wind and yet knows the stillness of the moment.
A flower is strong because it is the expression of light.
I simply transplanted that flower
into that man’s spine
It is now blooming in his head
exploding its colors in his eyes
invading his nose with the fresh scent
opening all his senses to the miracle of simply being alive.
One day the wind will blow and fade it
but that’s OK, by then, as a cloud continuously changing its shape,
he will grow a blue note or a sweet candle inside him
as he will perfectly master the art of the metaphor becoming reality.
__________
Adina Dabija was born on October 15, 1974, in Aiud, Romania. From 1997 – 2000, she worked as a journalist in Bucharest, publishing in "Capital," "Success," "Playboy," "Madame Figaro," "Adevărul," "Q Media," and "Invest Romania." She studied in the masters program in multimedia communications at the Université de Sherbrooke in Québec, Canada, from 2001-2003 and received a M.A. in Oriental Medicine from Pacific College of Oriental Medicine, New York, in 2008. Since 2001 she has been an editor of www.respiro.org
She lives now in New York, where she practices oriental medicine. Her first book, poezia-papusa, was awarded the Bucharest Writers’ Association Guild Prize. Her second book, Stare nediferentiata, won the Tomis Award. Beautybeast, translated into English by Claudia Serea, was published by NorthShore Press in 2012, her first collection of poetry in English. In 2013 her novel Șaman was published by Polirom in Romania.