{"id":13995,"date":"2013-07-12T21:14:02","date_gmt":"2013-07-12T21:14:02","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/?p=13995"},"modified":"2013-08-01T14:08:52","modified_gmt":"2013-08-01T14:08:52","slug":"emil-cioran-%e2%80%93-indreptar-patimas-fragmente","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/2013\/07\/12\/emil-cioran-%e2%80%93-indreptar-patimas-fragmente\/","title":{"rendered":"Emil Cioran \u2013 \u00cendreptar p\u0103tima\u015f (fragmente)"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\u201cCu r\u00e2vn\u0103 \u0219i amar, cercat-am s\u0103 culeg roadele cerului – \u0219i n-am putut. Ele se \u00een\u0103l\u021bau spre nu \u0219tiu ce alt cer, c\u00e2nd m\u00e2inile le \u00eenfruptam \u00een rodnicia lor.<\/p>\n

Crengile bol\u021bilor se apleac\u0103 \u00een n\u0103dejdile rugilor noastre; acestea potolindu-se, ele \u00ee\u0219i pierd fructele.<\/p>\n

Nici flori nu \u00eenfloresc pe cer \u0219i nici poame nu\u00a0 rodesc. La el acas\u0103, Dumnezeu neav\u00e2nd ce p\u0103zi, de necaz \u0219i de ur\u00e2t, pustie\u0219te gr\u0103dinile omului.<\/p>\n

Nu, nu; nu pe a\u0219tri \u00eemi voi orbi v\u0103zul. Destul mi-am pierdut din lumin\u0103 cer\u0219ind pomana \u00een\u0103l\u021bimilor. S\u0103tul de tot felul de ceruri – mi-am l\u0103sat sufletul biruit de podoabele lumii.<\/p>\n

Pe semeni \u00eei cunosc. Adesea mi-am citit \u00een ochii lor absen\u021bi \u0219i goi nerostul soartei sau mi-am odihnit r\u0103zvr\u0103tiri \u00een\u00a0 pauzele privirii lor. Dar zbuciumul lor nu mi-e str\u0103in. Ei vor, ei vor ne\u00eencetat. \u0218i cum nimic nu e de vrut, pa\u0219ii mei c\u0103lcau \u00een urmele lor ca-n spini, c\u0103rarea mea \u0219erpuia prin noroiul dorin\u021belor lor, \u00een\u0103lbindu-le, printr-un nimb de\u00a0 nefolosin\u021bi, c\u0103utarea lor f\u0103r\u0103 folos.<\/p>\n

Ei nu \u0219tiu c\u0103 raiul \u0219i iadul sunt \u00eenfloriri aleclipei,\u00a0 ale clipei \u00eense\u0219i, c\u0103 nimic nu este peste t\u0103ria extazului inutil. N-am \u00eent\u00e2lnit \u00een mersul lor muritor oprirea etern\u0103 pe arcurile clipitelor.<\/p>\n

V\u0103d un arbore, un z\u00e2mbet, un r\u0103s\u0103rit, o amintire. Nu sunt f\u0103r\u0103 margini \u00een fiece din ele ? Ce mai a\u0219tept peste acel definitiv v\u0103z, peste\u00a0 incurabilul v\u0103z al fulgerului temporal ?<\/p>\n

Oamenii suf\u0103r de viitor, se reped \u00een via\u021b\u0103, fug \u00een timp, caut\u0103. \u0218i nimic nu m\u0103 doare mai mult dec\u00e2t ochii lor c\u0103ut\u0103tori, zadarnici, dar lipsi\u021bi de z\u0103d\u0103rnicie.<\/p>\n

Eu \u0219tiu c\u0103 totul e final, c\u0103 exist\u0103 doar o clip\u0103, fiecare clip\u0103, c\u0103 pomul vie\u021bii e r\u0103bufnirea de ve\u0219nicie, reversibil\u0103 \u00een actele fiin\u021bei.<\/p>\n

\u0218i astfel nu mai vreau nimic. Adesea, c\u00e2nd stau \u00een nop\u021bi, \u00een nop\u021bi mari ce ridic\u0103 \u00een fa\u021ba min\u021bii fundurile lumii, cum a\u0219 \u0219ti dac\u0103 sunt sau nu mai sunt ? \u0218i mai po\u021bi fi atunci sau po\u021bi s\u0103 nu fii ? Sau, prins \u00een nedeslu\u0219irile muzicii,\u00a0 pierdut \u00een ele, cur\u0103\u021bit de \u00eent\u00e2mpl\u0103rile respira\u021biei, cum te-ai asemui semenilor ?<\/p>\n

A nu avea dec\u00e2t o \u021bint\u0103: s\u0103 nu fii mai inutil ca muzica. \u00cen ea nu afli nici pe este \u0219i nici pe nu este. Unde te g\u0103se\u0219ti ca victim\u0103 \u00eenvolburat\u0103 a farmecului ei ? Dar nu-i ea un nic\u0103ieri sonor ?<\/p>\n

Oamenii nu \u0219tiu s\u0103 fie f\u0103r\u0103 de folos. Ei au drumuri de urmat, puncte de atins, nevoi de \u00eemplinit. Ei nu gust\u0103 nedes\u0103v\u00e2r\u0219irea, c\u00e2nd\u00a0 \u201erostul\u201d vie\u021bii e extazul acestei nedes\u0103v\u00e2r\u0219iri ! Dar cum s\u0103 le dezv\u0103luim suprafe\u021bele acestei taine, cum s\u0103-i \u00eenc\u00e2nt\u0103m de luciul unui mister \u0219i s\u0103-i \u00eemb\u0103t\u0103m de-o fascina\u021bie at\u00e2t de simpl\u0103 ? \u00cemi vin \u00een minte anumite nop\u021bi \u0219i anumite zile…<\/p>\n

T\u0103cerile nocturne \u00een gr\u0103dinile Sudului… Spre cine se apleac\u0103 palmierii ? Crengile lor par idei obosite. Alt\u0103dat\u0103, c\u00e2nd \u00een s\u00e2nge purtam mai mult alcool \u0219i mai mult\u0103 Spanie, furia mea le-ar fi \u00eentors spre cer, patima ar fi \u00eendreptat vertical oboseala lor terestr\u0103 \u0219i zv\u00e2cnirile inimii le-ar fi \u00eempins spre vecin\u0103t\u0103\u021bi de stele. Acum,\u00a0 sunt fericit s\u0103 m\u0103 separ de a\u0219tri prin ramuri g\u00e2nditoare, s\u0103 gust \u00een adierile lor o singur\u0103tate bl\u00e2nd\u0103, s\u0103 m\u0103 nimicesc \u00een splendoare pe un p\u0103m\u00e2nt divinizat \u00een noapte.<\/p>\n

Dac\u0103 am tr\u0103i \u00een gr\u0103dini, religia n-ar fi posibil\u0103. Lipsa lor ne-a \u00eempins \u00een dorul raiului. Spa\u021biul f\u0103r\u0103 flori \u0219i arbori \u00eendeamn\u0103 ochii spre cer \u0219i aminte\u0219te muritorilor c\u0103 primul lor str\u0103bun\u00a0 a poposit vremelnic \u00een ve\u0219nicie \u0219i-n umbr\u0103 de pomi. Istoria e nega\u021bia gr\u0103dinii.<\/p>\n

N\u0103dejdile le datoresc nop\u021bilor. Pe aripi de \u00eentunerec, \u00eentinderi nu mai existau \u0219i, singur \u00eentre materie \u0219i vis, ridicam aromele decep\u021biei la miresme de fericire. Nimic nu mi se pare imposibil \u00een noapte – acest posibil f\u0103r\u0103 timp<\/em>. Totul se prea poate – dar viitorul nu este. Ideile\u00a0 devin paseri de g\u00e2nd – \u0219i unde aboar\u0103 ele ? \u00centr-o\u00a0 ve\u0219nicie vag tremur\u0103toare, ca un eter ros de\u00a0 reflexii.<\/p>\n

…A\u0219a am ajuns s\u0103 privesc soarele cu un\u00a0 interes ciudat. Prin ce ne\u00een\u021belegere i-au r\u0103pit\u00a0 oamenii tulbur\u0103rile \u0219i le-au transformat \u00een\u00a0 binefaceri ? Ce lips\u0103 de poezie a degradat \u00een monstru utilitar un astru pur ? Nu ne-am apropiat cu to\u021bii prea omene\u0219te de razele lui \u0219i,\u00a0 crez\u00e2ndu-l surs\u0103 de real, i-am acordat prea mult\u0103 realitate ? De ce vom fi proiectat scopul p\u00e2n\u0103 \u0219i pe cer ?<\/p>\n

Nu \u0219tiu p\u00e2n\u0103 unde soarele este<\/em> . Dar \u0219tiu prea bine c\u00e2t nu mai sunt sub el. – Cine, pe \u021b\u0103rmuri de mare, \u00een ceasuri de-a r\u00e2ndul, cu\u00a0 ochii \u00eentredeschi\u0219i, paralel vremii, orizontal pe\u00a0 vis \u0219i disparent ca spuma instantanee pe\u00a0 nisipul \u00eenaurit, n-a resim\u021bit amestecul de fericire \u0219i neant al risipei de str\u0103lucire – acela nu cunoa\u0219te nici una din primejdiile pe care frumuse\u021bea le-a adus \u00een lume.<\/p>\n

Credeam a fi t\u00e2n\u0103r sub soare, \u0219i m-am\u00a0 pomenit f\u0103r\u0103 v\u00e2rst\u0103. \u0218i dac\u0103-n miez de nop\u021bi mai aveam ani, \u00een amiezi nu-i mai aveam. Toate v\u00e2rstele fug \u0219i r\u0103m\u00e2i fiin\u021b\u0103 \u0219i nefiin\u021b\u0103, prestigiu vibrant \u00een nihilismul mistic al \u00eensoririlor.<\/p>\n

Cum scoboram din cetatea ardelean\u0103, \u00een nu \u0219tiu care or\u0103 a \u00eenser\u0103rii \u0219i care an al tinere\u021bii, nefericit \u0219i dornic de befericiri, prea \u00eencrezut pentru a m\u0103 g\u00e2ndi la soare – revela\u021bia apusului mi-a fr\u00e2nt subit m\u00e2ndria genunchilor. Membrele mele se \u00eent\u00e2lneau cu oboselile amurgului, \u0219i ce mai r\u0103m\u00e2nea ca soare \u00eentre petele inimii a-ngenunchiat la poalele unei agonii de aur. \u0218i recuno\u0219tin\u021ba mea trimis\u0103 astrului se \u00eendrepta \u0219i spre\u00a0 Egiptul propriului suflet.<\/p>\n

De atunci am t\u0103m\u00e2iat necontenit moartea \u0219i soarele – ca str\u0103nepot al cine \u0219tie c\u0103rui tr\u00e2ndav de pe malurile imemoriale ale Nilului.<\/p>\n

Doctrinele n-au vlag\u0103, \u00eenv\u0103\u021b\u0103turile-s stupide, convingerile ridicole \u0219i\u00a0 \u00eenfloriturile teoretice sterpe. Din tot ce\u00a0 suntem, nu-i via\u021b\u0103 dec\u00e2t \u00een t\u0103riile sufletului. Cu ele, de nu faci superflu\u0103 muzica \u0219i nu ridici ur\u00e2tul la rangul de oracol, \u00een ce tain\u0103 te vei \u00eengropa ? Nu r\u0103zbate \u00een puls misterul \u00eensu\u0219i al materiei \u0219i nu ne cheam\u0103 ritmul lui la melodiile nedescifrabilului ?<\/p>\n

Sunt treaz \u0219i nu \u0219tiu \u00een ce s\u0103 cred; \u00eentunecat de acorduri, mai pu\u021bin. Dar de ce, c\u00e2nd stau a\u0219a, absent de credin\u021be, via\u021ba se preschimb\u0103-n eu, \u0219i eu sunt peste tot ?<\/p>\n

Finalul muzicii l\u0103untrice e o topire \u00eentr-un andante cosmic. Vijelia care suna trompete \u00een idei se lini\u0219te\u0219te, \u0219i-un calm orizontal se prelinge ca o absen\u021b\u0103 \u00eensorit\u0103.<\/p>\n

…Adesea mi-am sim\u021bit sufletul al\u0103turi de trup. Adese l-am sim\u021bit departe, adesea f\u0103r\u0103\u00a0 rost \u0219i f\u0103r\u0103 c\u0103p\u0103t\u00e2i. \u0218i cum l-a\u0219 fi urmat, \u00een\u00a0 \u00een\u0103l\u021b\u0103ri subite, smuls din a\u0219ternutul inimii ? Nu-i rostul lui s\u0103 r\u0103t\u0103ceasc\u0103 \u00een albiile sim\u021burilor ? Ce-l \u00eempinge atunci spre \u00eentinderi, \u00een care nu pot s\u0103-l urmez ? Oamenii \u00eel au, dispun de el, el e al lor.
\nNumai eu r\u0103m\u00e2n sub mine…<\/p>\n

Las\u0103-\u021bi sufletul f\u0103r\u0103 paz\u0103; cum o ia razna spre cer ! Direc\u021bia lui fireasc\u0103 e o vitregie. De-ar prinde furtunile lui patima lucrurilor ce trec \u0219i, \u00eenfr\u00e2ng\u00e2ndu-l, s\u0103-i pun c\u0103tu\u0219ele trupului ! Ajunge o clip\u0103 de neseam\u0103 \u0219i-n focuri se sloboade spre alte lumi. De unde s\u0103 vin\u0103 v\u0103paia subit\u0103 ce-l surghiune\u0219te-n meleaguri cere\u0219ti, \u00een timp ce r\u0103m\u00e2i victim\u0103 l\u00e2ng-un corp \u00een p\u0103r\u0103siri ?<\/p>\n

E o zv\u00e2cnire uciga\u0219\u0103 ce-nvinge leg\u0103turile\u00a0 terestre, o stete de fericire \u00een afar\u0103 de fericiri, un\u00a0 dor de le\u0219in astral, de pierzanie \u00een fr\u0103m\u00e2nt\u0103ri, de \u00eenec \u00een spume de regrete divine. Ce aripi au mijit tainic \u00een el, ca dintr-o dat\u0103 s\u0103 tresalte dincolo de soare \u0219i-n zborul lui s\u0103 lase-n urm\u0103 izvoarele luminii, cuprins de-o via\u021b\u0103 f\u0103r\u0103 \u00een\u021beles, dincolo de via\u021b\u0103 ?<\/p>\n

Ai vrea s\u0103 mori de mii de ori – \u0219i el se sf\u00e2\u0219ie \u00een vastul nic\u0103ieri.
\n…Am c\u0103utat tihnele sufletului \u00een peisagii, \u00een sur\u00e2suri, \u00een idei. Dar el, hoinar, nu le \u021binea tov\u0103r\u0103\u0219ie, ci flutura pe cre\u0219tetele lumii. – C\u00e2nd\u00a0 va scobor\u00ee clocotul lui \u00een preajma nefiin\u021belor de fiecare zi ? De-a\u0219 avea alt suflet. Un suflet mai\u00a0 zadarnic !<\/p>\n

Eu \u0219tiu c\u0103 undeva \u00een mine un diavol nu poate muri. Nu-mi trebuie urechi ascu\u021bite pentru subtile chinuri, nici gust pentru o\u021betul s\u00e2ngelui, doar t\u0103cerea surd\u0103 \u00een care se \u00eenfirip\u0103 un v\u0103ic\u0103rit prelung. Atunci cunosc primejdia. \u0218i cum m\u0103 \u00eentorc spre R\u0103ul despotic \u0219i umilitor, el se ridic\u0103 \u00een\u00a0 v\u0103zduh, \u00een creier, \u00een ziduri – divinitate subit\u0103, aspr\u0103 \u0219i ruin\u0103toare.<\/p>\n

Stai \u00eencremenit \u0219i-a\u0219tep\u021bi. Te a\u0219tep\u021bi. Dar ce s\u0103 faci cu tine ? Ce s\u0103-\u021bi spui, \u00eemprejmuit de-at\u00e2t nespus ?<\/p>\n

Ce trece prin t\u0103cere ? Cine trece ? E r\u0103ul t\u0103u trec\u00e2nd prin tine, \u00een afar\u0103 de tine,\u00a0 e-un pretutindeni al tainei tale negative.<\/p>\n

S\u0103 te g\u00e2nde\u0219ti spre ce vei fi ? Regretele tale n-au viitor. \u0218i nici un viitor nu-i al t\u0103u. \u00cen timp nu mai ai loc, \u00een timp zace groaza. \u0218i atunci pleci. Plec\u00e2nd te ui\u021bi. \u00cen mers e\u0219ti altul \u0219i fiind<\/em> – nu mai e\u0219ti.<\/p>\n

C\u0103 oamenilor nu le e ru\u0219ine s\u0103 existe, de mult, de mult o \u0219tiu. N-am contenit a m\u0103 mira de mersul lor \u00eencrez\u0103tor, de ochii lor \u00eentreb\u0103tori, dar f\u0103r\u0103 chin, de \u021binuta lor trufa\u0219\u0103 de viermi verticali. Nu i-am v\u0103zut recunosc\u0103tori p\u0103m\u00e2ntului \u0219i nici \u00eenchin\u00e2ndu-se \u00een gale\u0219\u0103 cucernicie rodirilor lui trec\u0103toare. Adora\u021bia-i un fruct al izol\u0103rii. \u0218i muritorii zilnici – ce ve\u0219nici ar fi de-ar cheltui puterile \u00een suspine bucuroase, de-ar avea at\u00e2tea iluzii c\u0103 pa\u0219ii lor ar c\u0103lca pe-un univers de\u00a0 catifea ! Dar nu ! Pe unde trece omul nu-i dec\u00e2t pr\u0103p\u0103d \u0219i siluire a aparen\u021bei. N-am z\u0103rit \u00een el frigurile cu care s\u0103 umple spa\u021biul \u0219i s\u0103 p\u0103leasc\u0103 cerul. Via\u021ba laolalt\u0103 nu-i de \u00eendurat dec\u00e2t \u00eentr-un extaz comun \u0219i nimic nu-i mai rar subsoare dec\u00e2t extazul.<\/p>\n

Soarele luce\u0219te ca s\u0103 ne-nc\u0103lzim ? Nop\u021bile ne-acoper\u0103 ca s\u0103 ne acoperim de somn ? Marea, ca s-o cucerim ? – De c\u00e2nd folosul a ap\u0103rut \u00een lume, lumea nu mai e. Nu mai e \u00een farmec. Doar adora\u021bia respect\u0103 lucrurile \u00een ele \u00eensele, \u0219i via\u021ba nu-i via\u021b\u0103 f\u0103r\u0103 lacrimile de fericire ale suferin\u021belor prilejuite de ea. Pe paji\u0219tile ei \u00een\u0219el\u0103toare m-am \u00een\u0103l\u021bat cu ea cu tot, c\u00e2nd inima \u00een dans se m\u0103cina de-un c\u00e2ntec ruin\u0103tor.<\/p>\n

– Cum m-ar \u00eenghi\u021bi p\u0103m\u00e2ntul pe care l-am \u00eembr\u0103\u021bi\u0219at cu lacrimi \u0219i l-am dispre\u021buit cu s\u00e2nge ? S\u0103 putrezesc sub el, sub el cel ce nu-i eternitate dec\u00e2t ca morm\u00e2nt ? Nici un fior s\u0103 nu str\u0103mute cimitirele spre un p\u0103m\u00e2nt mai pur ?<\/p>\n

…A\u0219a ajungi s\u0103 te scalzi cu egal\u0103 patim\u0103 \u00een na\u0219tere, \u00een tinere\u021be, \u00een moarte, \u00een nimic \u0219i-n ve\u0219nicie – nep\u0103s\u0103tor de \u021beluri, sc\u00e2rbit de\u00a0 rosturi \u0219i de des\u0103v\u00e2r\u0219iri. Oriunde-ai merge – e acela\u0219i lucru. Spui: ve\u0219nicie<\/em>, fiindc\u0103 fiorurile tale au fr\u00e2nt timpul – \u0219i c\u00e2nd ele au fost \u00eenfr\u00e2nte de timp zici: nimic.<\/p>\n

Vinele se umfl\u0103 de un suflu cald – \u0219i atunci tremuri de speran\u021be, \u0219i-\u021bi spui: via\u021b\u0103, tinere\u021be<\/em>, \u0219i te g\u00e2nde\u0219ti cu fream\u0103t la dragoste \u0219i la viitor.<\/p>\n

– Sau c\u00e2nd \u00een ele circul\u0103 g\u00e2nduri numai, \u0219i adieri de team\u0103, cu lini\u0219ti durerease, atunci \u00ee\u021bi zici: moarte, \u0219i toate b\u0103l\u0103riile timpului \u021bi\u00a0 se-nc\u00e2rcesc \u00een suflet.<\/p>\n

Asrfel \u00ee\u021bi dai seama de rostul t\u0103u de p\u0103tima\u0219 al aparen\u021belor. Cu o \u00eenfl\u0103c\u0103rare suferind\u0103\u00a0 continui a te alipi \u0219i a te dezlipi de toate, uz\u00e2nd dup\u0103 \u00eemprejurare, orbit sau dezmor\u021bit, ne\u021b\u0103rmurita vremelnicie c\u0103reia te-ai d\u0103ruit.<\/p>\n

Vina mea: am jefuit realul. Am mu\u0219cat toate merele n\u0103dejdii omului. Piezi\u0219 z\u0103resc spre soare…
\nRos de p\u0103catul nout\u0103\u021bii, \u0219i cerul l-a\u0219 fi-ntors pe dos. Oprindu-mi din\u021bii-n ascunzi\u0219urile c\u0103rnii \u0219i \u00eenv\u00e2rtind idei \u00een hore abstracte, tainele mureau \u00een gur\u0103 \u0219i \u00een creier. Unde-i sucul devenirii s\u0103 \u00eemprosp\u0103teze pulsul duhului \u0219i-al s\u00e2ngelui ? \u00cen urm\u0103 doar stropi defunc\u021bi, \u00eens\u0103m\u00e2n\u021b\u00e2ndu-mi trecutul ca o\u00a0 lactee cale a nerostului. Respira\u021bia-i dezm\u0103\u021b. \u0218i caut trupuri nep\u0103tate s\u0103-mi cheltuiesc r\u0103m\u0103\u0219i\u021be de c\u0103lduri \u0219i cugete neatinse s\u0103-mi risipesc\u00a0 oboseli aprinse.<\/p>\n

Nimicului ce-mbat\u0103 absen\u021ba universului, s\u0103-i adaug cutremurul sonor al sufletului, s\u0103-i spintec lini\u0219tea cu un v\u00e2rtej de glas, s\u0103-mi las pacostea muzicii pe-ntinderi ! S\u0103 fiu sufletul golului \u0219i inima nimicului !<\/p>\n

Vei reu\u0219i a-n\u0103bu\u0219i menirea negativ\u0103 de care e\u0219ti muncit ? Nicic\u00e2nd. Vei \u00eens\u0103n\u0103to\u0219i r\u0103ul ce-\u021bi m\u00e2nc\u0103 mersul respira\u021biei ? Deloc. Mai ridica-vei amarul\u00a0 din sim\u021buri la esen\u021b\u0103 de \u00eentreb\u0103ri ? Totdeauna.
\nNu vrei s\u0103-\u021bi storci formula de ireparabile\u00a0 \u00een dulciu de credin\u021be ? Nicidecum.
\n…\u00cen s\u00e2ngele t\u0103u o drojdie de Niciodat\u0103 se desfat\u0103, \u00een s\u00e2ngele t\u0103u se dezalc\u0103tuie\u0219te timpul – \u0219i-un acaftist pe dos te salveaz\u0103 din \u00eenecul m\u00e2ntuirii. \u0218i Diavolul se furi\u0219eaz\u0103 prin ochiul lui Dumnezeu \u0219i tu-i urmezi umbra \u0219i urma…<\/p>\n


\nParis, 1941 – 944
\nHotel Racine
\nrue Racine<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cCu r\u00e2vn\u0103 \u0219i amar, cercat-am s\u0103 culeg roadele cerului – \u0219i n-am putut. Ele se \u00een\u0103l\u021bau spre nu \u0219tiu ce [&hellip<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-13995","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-articole","category-linkuri-externe"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13995","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=13995"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13995\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":13998,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13995\/revisions\/13998"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=13995"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=13995"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=13995"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}