{"id":19715,"date":"2014-11-10T19:01:43","date_gmt":"2014-11-10T19:01:43","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/?p=19715"},"modified":"2014-11-10T19:01:43","modified_gmt":"2014-11-10T19:01:43","slug":"maria-diana-popescu-georgia-miculescu-%e2%80%93-lirism-in-inteles-superior","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/2014\/11\/10\/maria-diana-popescu-georgia-miculescu-%e2%80%93-lirism-in-inteles-superior\/","title":{"rendered":"Maria Diana Popescu: Georgia Miculescu \u2013 Lirism \u00een \u00een\u0163eles superior"},"content":{"rendered":"<p style=\"text-align: justify;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/11\/Georgia-Miculescu-IM.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-19716 alignleft\" title=\"Georgia Miculescu IM\" src=\"http:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/11\/Georgia-Miculescu-IM.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"220\" height=\"257\" \/><\/a>Poet\u0103 a emo\u0163iei sobre \u015fi triste, a sintezei de clipe supreme, oper\u00eend cu efuziuni psihologice \u015fi suflete\u015fti, cu fundamente filosofice \u015fi blitz-uri sculptate \u00eentr-un lirism glacial dar impun\u0103tor, desf\u0103\u015furat anume spre accentuarea crea\u0163iei sale, Georgia Miculescu \u00ee\u015fi continu\u0103 c\u0103l\u0103toria poetic\u0103, glis\u00eend cu noble\u0163e \u015fi rafinament pe un registru de stil \u015fi atmosfer\u0103 dureroas\u0103, cu tot ceea ce incumb\u0103 responsabilitatea superioar\u0103 de creator: <em>\u201eT\u0103cerea se las\u0103 peste casele de nisip ale oamenilor\/ la fiecare poart\u0103 \u00eent\u00e2lne\u015fti un copil scheletic\/ un b\u0103tr\u00e2n cu fa\u0163a supt\u0103\/ un steag negru\/ \u00een zare\/\u2026 culeg\u0103torii de suflete deschid pl\u0103p\u00e2ndele trupuri\/ luna goal\u0103 cu buzele-i albe\/ s\u0103rut\u0103 icoanele din biserica pustie\/ amurguri violete se desprind din bra\u0163ele cerului\/ pa\u015fii preotului se pierd \u00een nisipul ro\u015fu.\u201d <\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;\">Din c\u0103l\u0103toria prin patrimoniul s\u0103u sufletesc, la care se angajeaz\u0103 cu autoritatea redemp\u0163iunii \u015fi ascezei, Georgia Miculescu se cre\u015fte pe sine \u00eentr-un edificiu poetic hr\u0103nit din inspira\u0163ie, din biografie proprie \u015fi de un jet permanent al timbr\u0103rii \u015fi sim\u0163irii. Curgerea versurilor izbucne\u015fte uneori ca un mugur, alteori\u00a0 brusc \u015fi trist ca un pl\u00eens chitar\u0103: \u201e<em>sufletul cerului arde \u00een j\u0103raticul din nori \u2013\/\u00a0lini\u015ftea \u00een frunze piere \u2013\/ un bucium c\u00e2nt\u0103 printre s\u0103lciile \u00eemb\u0103tr\u00e2nite de ninsori\/ celor f\u0103r\u0103 umbr\u0103\/\u2026 c\u00e2ntecul frumos s-a-mboln\u0103vit de mu\u0163enie\/ v\u00e2ntul de vest nu mai exist\u0103\/\u00a0 soarelui\/ i-au fost str\u0103pun\u015fi pl\u0103m\u00e2nii \u2013\/ s\u00e2ngelui\/ i-au \u015fters celulele ro\u015fii \u2013\/\u2026 durerea lor s-a instalat \u00een copacii mei\u201d.<\/em>\u00a0 Nu vorbim \u00eens\u0103 de un joc liber al sentimentelor, ci de trimiteri la o vast\u0103 palet\u0103 a tr\u0103irilor umane, vorbim de un fluaj poetic prelungit dureros \u00een afara realit\u0103\u0163ii imediate, unde timpul, ca parte integrant\u0103 a sevei suflete\u015fti sau scar\u0103 c\u0103tre sine \u00eensu\u015fi, devine un mediu de inevitabil\u0103 destr\u0103mare: <em>\u201eA fost dorin\u0163a \u00eengerilor\/ s\u0103 m\u0103 nasc din cenu\u015fa lor\/ s\u0103 fiu amestec de lumin\u0103 \u015fi fum\/ \u015fi s\u0103 cad \u00een lume\/ din treapt\u0103-n treapt\u0103\/ n-aveam nume\/ doar un testament\/ un chip\/ \u015fi dou\u0103sprezece drumuri s\u0103lbatice\/ sim\u0163eam cum \u015fi fiin\u0163a apei m\u0103 cuprinde tainic\/ respiram prin trupul ei transparent\/ timpu-i se scurgea prin ochiul nop\u0163ii\/ pentru totdeauna\/ \u00eentr-un ocean vechi -\/\u00a0 glasul meu \u00eenota printre spini de st\u00e2nc\u0103\/ la fiecare pas ce-l f\u0103ceam\/ p\u0103catele mi se-nmul\u0163eau\/ din mine c\u0103deau icoane albe\/ sp\u0103rg\u00e2ndu-se \u00een mii de cioburi ro\u015fii\u2026\u201d<\/em> Vorbim de o a\u015fezare echilibrat\u0103 a inspira\u0163iei \u00een raportul semnificant-semnificat, de o con\u015ftiin\u0163\u0103 a apropierii de cititor \u015fi un sentiment de progresiv\u0103 instaurare a unui decor de triste\u0163i \u015fi umbre, care creeaz\u0103 o magie de durat\u0103.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;\">Poeta aude, vede, simte \u015fi viseaz\u0103 prin for\u0163a versurilor, eul liric reu\u015fe\u015fte transmiterea (cu ineren\u0163e naturale) unor mesaje dintr-un univers de vaste dimensiuni: <em>\u201eTrec zilnic pe l\u00e2ng-o cas\u0103 colorat\u0103\/ pe l\u00e2ng-o cruce veche\/ pe l\u00e2ng-un pom c\u0103zut la p\u0103m\u00e2nt\/ pe drumurile mele tapetate cu ninsori\/ aud\/ c\u00e2ntece triste de harp\u0103 chinuit\u0103 prin mansarde\/ v\u0103d\/ oameni oropsi\u0163i de ploi\/ simt\/ durerile sf\u00e2\u015fietoare ale norilor arunca\u0163i \u00een noroi\/\u00a0 visez\/ fericirea lumii\/ ferecat\u0103-n sipetul de marmur\u0103 al nop\u0163ii\/ petrec zilnic \u00een ierni geroase\/ \u00eenghesuit\u0103-n clepsidra veche a vie\u0163ii\/ g\u00e2ndurile-mi zac la r\u0103d\u0103cina celor patru v\u00e2nturi\/ t\u00e2mplele mi s-au transformat \u00een clape de pian\/ timpul cu mantaua-i de sticl\u0103\/ nu m\u0103-nva\u0163\u0103 s\u0103 tr\u0103iesc \u00eentr-o culoare alb\u0103\/ chipuri transparente\/ m\u0103 cheam\u0103 s\u0103 le pictez ochi albi\/ dou\u0103 umbre gri \u00eemi cer s\u0103 le adun cenu\u015fa din soba infernului\/\u00a0 timpul cu mantaua-i de sticl\u0103\/ nu m\u0103-nva\u0163\u0103 s\u0103 iubesc r\u0103s\u0103ritul din mine\u201d.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;\">Fior, miraj, vitalitate \u015fi aplauzele unui spectacol de gal\u0103, \u00eempletite cu pl\u0103cerea evident\u0103 \u015fi manifest\u0103 a scrisului care exist\u0103 doar \u00een poezia bun\u0103,\u00a0 Georgia\u00a0 Miculescu se poveste\u015fte pe sine armoniz\u00eendu-se cu strig\u0103tele de triste\u0163e, reu\u015find s\u0103 le transforme \u00een crea\u0163ie artistic\u0103, a\u015fa cum regele Midas transforma \u00een aur tot ceea ce atingea. Pe un fond de nem\u0103rginit\u0103 triste\u0163e (\u015fi \u201espinii s\u00eent tri\u015fti\u201d \u00een poezia sa &#8211; o metafor\u0103 superb\u0103!) semnalat chiar \u015fi \u00een titluri, confesiunea poetic\u0103 recreioneaz\u0103 (pe cale de sugestie, dar cel mai adesea \u00een mod direct) dezam\u0103giri, triste\u0163i, resemn\u0103ri, reculegeri, a\u015ftept\u0103ri, chem\u0103ri ale divinului, arome, umbre, ghe\u0163ari,\u00a0 mici lumini de speran\u0163\u0103 sau diverse atitudini poetice fa\u0163\u0103 de destin: <em>\u201e\u00cen mine se cuib\u0103resc buc\u0103\u0163i din aripile mun\u0163ilor\/ ascu\u0163imea lor o simt\/ \u00eemi sf\u00e2\u015fie trupul &#8211; \/ din palmele-mi de ghea\u0163\u0103\/ se scurg ghe\u0163ari albi &#8211; \/ t\u0103lpile\/ mi se afund\u0103-n lutul nop\u0163ii\/ spini tri\u015fti\/ m\u0103r\u015f\u0103luiesc \u00een s\u00e2ngele meu\/ &#8211; ascult durerea lui\/ \u00een arterele reci\/ umbra aripilor\/ se risipe\u015fte-n t\u00e2mpla-mi de argint.\u201d<\/em> De la dinamismul unei furtuni la valurile calme de muzicalitate trist\u0103, prinse parc\u0103 \u00een armonii de org\u0103, Georgia Miculescu axiologizeaz\u0103 liric \u015fi persuasiv tr\u0103irile dramatice ale fiin\u0163ei sale, ale timpului \u015fi vie\u0163ii \u00een perspective cosmice: <em> \u201eFurtuna s-a ab\u0103tut asupra p\u0103m\u00e2ntului\/ curg apele asupra-mi cad fulgerele\/ trupu-mi de ap\u0103 zace-n agonie\/ respir doar prin pl\u0103m\u00e2nii lunii\/ demonii m\u0103 lovesc cu privirile lor ascu\u0163ite\/ vr\u0103jitoarele-mi sorb umerii goi\/ s\u00e2ngele meu se scurge \u00een r\u00e2uri de cenu\u015f\u0103\/ bra\u0163ele mele se \u00eenchin\u0103 unui cer \u00een ruin\u0103\/ \u015fi pl\u00e2ng\/ trupul de ap\u0103 a secat\/ fluturi scheletici cu aripi de noroi\/ se cuib\u0103resc \u00een subsuoara mea\/ bisericile sunt goale\/ candelele au ars\/ candelabrele s-au stins\/ ochii mi s-au scurs\/ odat\u0103 cu apele&#8230;\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;\">Magma poemele, urzit\u0103 cu lirism autentic din trame imagistice de o rar\u0103 \u00eenfiorare (mai pu\u0163in \u00eent\u00eelnite \u00een poezia contemporan\u0103), dintr-un prag al con\u015ftiin\u0163ei poetice acut reflexive, din pulsa\u0163ii suflete\u015fti \u015fi sentimente de o intensitate emotiv\u0103 deosebit\u0103, fac ca acestea s\u0103 par\u0103 rostite cu acribia unui actor care dore\u015fte s\u0103-\u015fi pun\u0103 \u00een valoare calit\u0103\u0163ile interpretative: <em>\u201eDe c\u00e2nd nu mai umbl\u0103 Dumnezeu pe p\u0103m\u00e2nt\/ toate sunt anapoda\/\u00a0 viespile devin regi \u015fi regine\/ p\u0103m\u00e2ntul s-a umplut de cruci negre\/ oamenii mor ne\u2019mp\u0103rt\u0103\u015fi\u0163i\/ r\u00e2urile au secat\/ stejarii nu mai au bra\u0163e\/\u00a0 iar arhanghelii sunt opri\u0163i la frontiere\/ azi\/ n-au\u00a0 mai r\u0103mas\/ dec\u00e2t un cer stins \/ prunci reci \u00een p\u00e2ntece fl\u0103m\u00e2nde\/\u00a0 un c\u00e2ine orb ce-\u015fi caut\u0103 st\u0103p\u00e2nul pierdut \u00een ruine\/\u00a0 \u015fi-un ochi divin ce tot timpul pl\u00e2nge\/ &#8230;c\u00e2ntecul privighetorii\/\u00a0 se aude doar sub p\u0103m\u00e2nt.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;\">Atent\u0103 la zbaterea dinl\u0103untrul timpului ce trece \u015fi se \u00eenchide cu nelini\u015ftea abisal\u0103 a versului t\u0103iat la r\u0103d\u0103cina \u201eburuienilor s\u00eengerii\u201d, Georgia Miculescu reu\u015fe\u015fte performan\u0163a de a lua act de prezen\u0163a unor vibra\u0163ii care o inspir\u0103, \u015fi de aici caracterul de confesiune al poemelor, de eliberare de un preaplin \u00eempov\u0103r\u0103tor, ca instrumente subtile de comunicare: <em> \u201eInima mea e-ngropat\u0103 \u00een trupul unui zeu de piatr\u0103\/ din ochii-mi pl\u00e2n\u015fi\/ \u00eencol\u0163esc buruieni s\u00e2ngerii \u2013 \/ un \u00eenger muribund\/ mi-a dat pentru o zi\/ doar pentru o zi\/ inima lui\/ pe v\u00e2rful muntelui\/ pe crucea jertfei\/ pelerinii nop\u0163ii\/ \u0163ineau \u00een lan\u0163uri -\/\u00eengerul \u2013 \/ m\u0103icu\u0163a lui murise demult \/ zidarii mor\u0163ii i-au cimentat sufletul \u00een icoane\/ groparii a\u015fteptau ultima zv\u00e2cnire\/\u00a0 trupul \u00eengerului delira-n t\u0103cere\/ nimeni fruntea nu-i m\u00e2ng\u00e2ia\/ priveau nep\u0103s\u0103tori \u015fi reci.\u201d<\/em> Triste\u0163i f\u0103r\u0103 margini, \u00eenfr\u00eengeri dureroase (\u00een acela\u015fi timp \u00eemperiale), care evident impresioneaz\u0103 cititorul, fragilitatea \u015fi trecerea a tot ceea ce este omenesc, sentimentalism \u015fi erudi\u0163ie, Georgia Miculescu se afl\u0103 mereu deasupra tr\u0103irilor, aidoma unui dirijor purtat \u00eentr-un un univers de sunete aparte, care \u00eei confer\u0103 o gra\u0163ioas\u0103, dar sever\u0103 expunere: <em>\u201e\u2026undeva\/ pe un um\u0103r de deal\/ z\u0103cea\/ cu trupul stins\/ prietenul timpului &#8211; \/ ceasornicarul &#8211; \/ de ieri\/ amurgul s-a scurs din ochii lui\/ s\u0103tenii\/ povesteau\/ c\u0103-ntr-o sear\u0103 lini\u015ftit\u0103\/ morm\u00e2ntul ceasornicarului a disp\u0103rut\/ \u015fi ast\u0103zi\/ oamenii din satul alb\/ \u00eenc\u0103 mai caut\u0103 movila pierdut\u0103 a ceasornicarului\u2026\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;\">\u00cen integralitate \u015fi \u00een miezul s\u0103u ad\u00eenc, discursul poetic al Georgiei Miculescu\u00a0 este, de la un cap\u0103t la altul, un superb poem alchimic \u015fi de analiz\u0103 a l\u0103untrului, a zonelor onirice \u015fi filosofice, \u00eentr-o exprimare de calitate \u015fi de bun gust care o legitimeaz\u0103 indubitabil ca poet\u0103. Crea\u0163iuni de inspira\u0163ie \u015fi inteligen\u0163\u0103 \u00een contact direct cu datele imediate ale tr\u0103irilor, poemele Georgiei Miculescu \u015fi-au g\u0103sit \u00eentruchiparea \u00een teme cu perspective universale, care \u00eei \u00eeng\u0103duie desf\u0103\u015furarea lirismului \u00een \u00een\u0163eles superior, izvor\u00eet nu din orgoliu, ci din sensul unei g\u00eendiri filosofice ca atare.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;\">\n<p style=\"text-align: right;\">Maria Diana Popescu, Agero<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: right;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/www.agero-stuttgart.de\/\"> <span style=\"font-size: small;\">www.agero-stuttgart.de<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong> Poeme de Georgia Miculescu<\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong> \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong> S\u0103 ucizi o pas\u0103re c\u00e2nt\u0103toare<br \/>\n<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>S\u0103 ucizi o pas\u0103re c\u00e2nt\u0103toare<br \/>\ndoar pentru c-o u\u015f\u0103 \u0163i-e surd\u0103<br \/>\n\u015fi inima \u0163i-e mut\u0103<br \/>\niar sufletu-\u0163i plute\u015fte \u00een vidul din trup<br \/>\ndeparte e\u015fti<br \/>\nde tot ce-i viu<br \/>\nur\u00e2t \u015fi pustiu<br \/>\nca un t\u0103ciune amor\u0163it<br \/>\nf\u0103r\u0103 nume \u015fi chip<br \/>\nvid la nesf\u00e2r\u015fit<br \/>\nn\u0103scut din negre vise<\/p>\n<p>bat clopotele-n ceruri<br \/>\niar v\u00e2ntu-adie trist \u2013<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>to\u0163i copacii lumii<\/p>\n<p>au plecat spre un alt univers<\/p>\n<p>duc\u00e2nd pe bra\u0163e pas\u0103rea ucis\u0103<\/p>\n<p>cea care-a fost c\u00e2ndva c\u00e2nt\u0103toare\u2026<\/p>\n<p><strong> \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong> Altarul din de\u015fert<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Altarul din de\u015fert<\/p>\n<p>\u00eencremenit \u00eentr-un singur cuv\u00e2nt \u2013<\/p>\n<p>epidemia c\u0103ldurii din florile de nisip<\/p>\n<p>se scurge pe trupul scheletic<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>nimeni nu mai viseaz\u0103 \u2013<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>orbi prin tunelurile muceg\u0103ite<\/p>\n<p>m\u0103 g\u00e2ndesc:<\/p>\n<p>atunci era mai bine<\/p>\n<p>liberi<\/p>\n<p>\u00eencremeni\u0163i \u00eentr-o alt\u0103 lume<\/p>\n<p>deoarece<\/p>\n<p>totul \u00eencepea de la un g\u00e2nd \u2013<\/p>\n<p><strong> \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong> Aproape de cerul cocorilor<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Stau nemi\u015fcat\u0103 pe un pat de iarb\u0103 alb\u0103<\/p>\n<p>cu g\u00e2ndurile \u00eempr\u0103\u015ftiate<\/p>\n<p>aproape de cerul cocorilor<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>nu-mi amintesc s\u0103 fi dormit vreodat\u0103<\/p>\n<p>m\u0103-ntreb cum dorm cocorii\u2026<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>lumina e tot mai rece \u015fi pu\u0163in\u0103<\/p>\n<p>p\u00e2n\u0103 la prim\u0103var\u0103 ce-am s\u0103 m\u0103 fac?<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>\u2013 nimeni nu \u015ftie de cocorii ce tremur\u0103-n frig<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>ferestrele oceanului se-nce\u0163o\u015feaz\u0103-n furtuni de nisip<\/p>\n<p>din clapele pianului alb<\/p>\n<p>cad<\/p>\n<p>aripile cocorilor<\/p>\n<p>poarta cerului<\/p>\n<p>e-nchis\u0103<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>cocorii mei s-au r\u0103t\u0103cit \u00een labirintul timpului&#8230;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong> Odaia de piatr\u0103<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>\u00cen odaia de piatr\u0103<br \/>\nchipurile sfin\u0163ilor pironi\u0163i<\/p>\n<p>muceg\u0103iesc<br \/>\ncuvintele cerului se cristalizeaz\u0103 \u00eentr-un nor negru<br \/>\niar sur\u00e2sul durerii le zace pe buze<\/p>\n<p>\u00eentunericul din odaia de piatr\u0103<br \/>\nabsoarbe lumina frumoas\u0103 din fereastr\u0103<br \/>\nflori negre-au r\u0103s\u0103rit din podeaua spart\u0103<br \/>\nfantomele-au prins r\u0103d\u0103cini de s\u00e2rm\u0103 pe pere\u0163ii ei<\/p>\n<p>s-a trezit pas\u0103rea mor\u0163ii<br \/>\ncu aripile-i reci despic\u0103 strig\u0103tul mut din lacrimile sfin\u0163ilor<br \/>\ntimpul \u00eenc\u0103run\u0163it se stinge-ncet \u00een bra\u0163ele umbrelor<br \/>\nbisericile p\u00e2ng\u0103rite s-au scurs pe c\u00e2mpiile muribunde<\/p>\n<p>doar caii de p\u0103m\u00e2nt mai zboar\u0103 azi.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Un v\u00e2nt liliachiu<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Luminile becurilor de pe st\u00e2lpii de-afar\u0103<\/p>\n<p>stau m\u0103rturie-n fereastra mea<\/p>\n<p>un v\u00e2nt liliachiu<\/p>\n<p>mi\u015fc\u0103 foile de pe biroul alb<\/p>\n<p>umbrele unor crengi<\/p>\n<p>penduleaz\u0103 pe el<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>somnul b\u00e2ntuie prin bezna difuz\u0103<\/p>\n<p>lini\u015ftea pere\u0163ilor din beton<\/p>\n<p>m\u0103 face s\u0103 visez povestea filmului de demult<\/p>\n<p>timpul f\u0103r\u0103 timpane<\/p>\n<p>surd<\/p>\n<p>mut<\/p>\n<p>se rostogole\u015fte pe asfaltul umed<\/p>\n<p>\u015fi dispare \u00een cr\u0103p\u0103turile gri \u2013<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>g\u0103sesc un alt timp<\/p>\n<p>dar orb<\/p>\n<p>\u015fi m\u0103cinat de p\u0103ianjeni colora\u0163i<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>m\u0103 duc la fereastr\u0103 privesc \u2013<\/p>\n<p>lumea s-a schimbat<\/p>\n<p>\u015fi<\/p>\n<p>mie nu mi-a spus nimeni.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong> <span style=\"font-size: small;\">Amurgul nu vindec\u0103<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Stafiile \u00ee\u015fi flutur\u0103 umbrele despuiate<\/p>\n<p>cei vii s-au ascuns \u00een morminte<\/p>\n<p>de pe crucile \u00eempov\u0103rate<\/p>\n<p>literele cad putrezite<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>din brazii usca\u0163i<\/p>\n<p>sar buc\u0103\u0163i<\/p>\n<p>a\u015fchii<\/p>\n<p>dimine\u0163ile calde<\/p>\n<p>au plecat \u015fi ele<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&#8230;timpul decade<\/p>\n<p>amurgul nu vindec\u0103<\/p>\n<p>mi-au spus r\u0103d\u0103cinile crescute<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">din t\u00e2mpla cerului.<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Poet\u0103 a emo\u0163iei sobre \u015fi triste, a sintezei de clipe supreme, oper\u00eend cu efuziuni psihologice \u015fi suflete\u015fti, cu fundamente filosofice [&#038;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-19715","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\/19715","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=19715"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19715\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":19718,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19715\/revisions\/19718"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=19715"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=19715"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=19715"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}