{"id":30899,"date":"2017-07-07T20:14:31","date_gmt":"2017-07-07T20:14:31","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/?p=30899"},"modified":"2017-07-07T20:14:31","modified_gmt":"2017-07-07T20:14:31","slug":"mark-raffills-poduri-lirice-%e2%80%93-poetical-bridges-poeme-bilingve","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/2017\/07\/07\/mark-raffills-poduri-lirice-%e2%80%93-poetical-bridges-poeme-bilingve\/","title":{"rendered":"Mark Raffills: Poduri Lirice \u2013 Poetical Bridges (poeme bilingve)"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a>Cuvintele au fost capitalul de baz\u0103 al lui Mark Raffills pentru mai bine de 40 de ani. Fie c\u0103 a scris despre foametea lovind Cornul Africii ori comentarii despre albumele de rock, sau mai recent tip\u0103rind reproduceri, buletine informative \u015fi reviste pentru o \u00eentreag\u0103 gam\u0103 de clien\u0163i, editorul, jurnalistul \u015fi publicistul din Nelson a me\u015fte\u015fugit textul ca \u015fi cum via\u0163a lui – \u015fi vie\u0163ile altora – depindeau de el.<\/p>\n

\n

Organizator al ambelor cenacluri Aurul<\/em> \u015fi Poe\u0163ii \u00een Via\u0163\u0103<\/em> din Nelson, Mark e fericit s\u0103-\u015fi recite poeziile la col\u0163uri de strad\u0103, \u00een galerii de art\u0103 \u015fi baruri sau la festivaluri \u015fi evenimente de poezie din \u00eentreaga \u0163ar\u0103. El a fost finalist \u00een edi\u021bia inaugural\u0103 a concursului de poezie NZ Poetry Slam* \u00een 2011 \u0219i din nou \u00een 2015. De asemenea, din c\u00e2nd \u00een c\u00e2nd, face turnee cu forma\u0163ia de bluegrass \/ folk \/ blues Dirt Floor.<\/p>\n

\n

Probleme ale inimii, locul nostru pe planet\u0103 \u0219i observa\u021bii ale familiei \u0219i prietenilor, toate sunt muz\u0103 \u0219i inspira\u021bie pentru cuvintele care p\u00e2n\u0103 acum \u015fi-au g\u0103sit drumul \u00een trei volume publicate de autor – lanul de porumb \u015fi alte poezii, Gra\u0163ie <\/em>\u0219<\/em>i favoare<\/em> \u015fi Iubit, neiubit \u015fi din nou iubit<\/em>. Mark a participat la fiecare concert sus\u0163inut de Bob Dylan \u00een Noua Zeeland\u0103 de la prima vizit\u0103 aici, \u00een 1978. E vorba de vreo 21 de concerte.<\/p>\n

———————-<\/p>\n

*NZ Poetry Slam: este un concurs organizat \u00een NZ \u00een care poe\u021bii \u00ee\u0219i citesc sau recit\u0103 propriile poezii.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

\n

Words have been Mark Raffills\u2019 stock-in-trade for over 40 years. Whether scribbling dispatches from the famine-stricken Horn of Africa or penning reviews of rock albums, or more latterly producing copy, newsletters and magazines for a whole range of clients, the Nelson-based publisher, journalist, and publicist has crafted text as though his life – and the lives of others – depended on it.<\/em><\/em><\/p>\n

Convener of both the Golden and Nelson Live Poets, Mark is happy telling his poems on street corners, in art galleries and pubs or at festivals and poetry events across the country.\u00a0He was a finalist in the inaugural NZ Poetry Slam in 2011 and again in 2015 and, also tours from time to time with the bluegrass\/folk\/blues-based\u00a0Dirt Floor Alliance.<\/em><\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0Matters of the heart, our place on the planet and observations of family and friends, all are muse and inspiration for the words which so far have found their way into three\u00a0self-published collections – the cornfield and other poems, Grace and Favour and Loved, Misloved and Loved Again. Mark has attended every concert Bob Dylan has played in New Zealand since his first visit here in 1978. That\u2019s about 21 concerts or so.<\/em><\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

\n

FATA POEMULUI DANS <\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

Pe trotuar sunt b\u0103l\u0163i,<\/p>\n

lacrimi curg pe p\u0103m\u00e2ntul de dedesupt<\/p>\n

o lun\u0103 fugind complet speriat\u0103<\/p>\n

\u00een spatele umbrei norilor<\/p>\n

alerg\u00e2nd c\u00e2t de repede.<\/p>\n

\n

Dansezi \u00een fa\u0163a estuarului,<\/p>\n

vesel\u0103 \u015fi mai darnic\u0103<\/p>\n

dec\u00e2t un geam, vitrin\u0103 de magazin,<\/p>\n

totul este v\u0103zut \u00een ad\u00e2ncurile<\/p>\n

apelor sale \u00eentunecate.<\/p>\n

\n

Dansezi ca o sut\u0103 de spirite,<\/p>\n

sprinten\u0103 \u015fi agil\u0103 \u015fi puternic\u0103 \u00een acela\u015fi timp,<\/p>\n

ochii t\u0103i c\u0103prui z\u00e2mbind intens<\/p>\n

\u015fi \u015ftiind momentele \u00een care trebuie<\/p>\n

s\u0103 te arunci \u00een bra\u0163e deschise.<\/p>\n

\n

\u015ei eu, al t\u0103u Walter Raleigh,<\/p>\n

un tat\u0103 \u00een lumina lunii pline,<\/p>\n

privesc dansul t\u0103u<\/p>\n

prin b\u0103l\u0163i pe trotuar<\/p>\n

printre lacrimi curg\u00e2nd pe p\u0103m\u00e2nt.<\/p>\n

\n

GIRL OF THE DANCE POEM <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

There are puddles on the pavement,<\/em><\/p>\n

tears upon the ground beneath<\/em><\/p>\n

a moon running full scared<\/em><\/p>\n

behind shadow clouds<\/em><\/p>\n

racing for all they are worth.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

You dance in front of the estuary,<\/em><\/p>\n

joyful and more generous<\/em><\/p>\n

than a plate-glass, shop-front window,<\/em><\/p>\n

everything is seen in the depths<\/em><\/p>\n

of its dark waters.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

You dance like a hundred spirits,<\/em><\/p>\n

lithe and nimble and powerful all at once,<\/em><\/p>\n

your brown eyes smiling and strong<\/em><\/p>\n

and knowing the times when you need<\/em><\/p>\n

to press into open arms.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

And I, your Walter Raleigh,<\/em><\/p>\n

a father in full moonlight,<\/em><\/p>\n

watch your dance<\/em><\/p>\n

through puddles on the pavement<\/em><\/p>\n

through tears upon the ground.<\/em><\/p>\n

\n

\n

C\u00c2NT\u0102RE\u0162UL <\/strong><\/p>\n

\n

Tu c\u00e2n\u0163i waiata<\/p>\n

cu un r\u00e2s molipsitor<\/p>\n

dar ochii t\u0103i sunt tri\u015fti.<\/p>\n

Vorbe\u015fti despre vise dans\u00e2nd pe apa albastr\u0103<\/p>\n

dar pauzele scurte de t\u0103cere de asemenea vorbesc.<\/p>\n

\n

\u00cen ochii t\u0103i<\/p>\n

profe\u0163ii \u015fi str\u0103mo\u015fii<\/p>\n

privesc \u00een aceste vremuri,<\/p>\n

nemi\u015fcarea este invadat\u0103<\/p>\n

de b\u0103t\u0103ile \u00eentrerupte ale inimii tale.<\/p>\n

\n

O vindec\u0103toare manta din moa<\/p>\n

\u00ee\u0163i \u00eempodobe\u015fte umerii,<\/p>\n

caldul masaj al<\/p>\n

penelor pe trup, confortul modei<\/p>\n

la fel de rar ca Takahe.<\/p>\n

\n

Tu modulezi waiata<\/p>\n

la fel de \u00eembietor ca sirenele lui Homer,<\/p>\n

la fel de ascu\u0163it ca sabia lui Artur;<\/p>\n

uneori, \u015fi tu ai nevoie<\/p>\n

s\u0103 fii \u00eembr\u0103\u0163i\u015fat.<\/p>\n

\n

Calci urmele pa\u015filor<\/p>\n

pe nisip \u015fi te \u00eentrebi<\/p>\n

ce te determin\u0103<\/p>\n

s\u0103 mergi \u015fi s\u0103 c\u00e2n\u0163i waiata<\/p>\n

de unul singur.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

THE SINGER <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

You sing waiata<\/em><\/p>\n

with an infectious laugh<\/em><\/p>\n

but your eyes are sad.<\/em><\/p>\n

You talk of dreams dancing on blue water<\/em><\/p>\n

but brief breaks of silence have their say, too.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

In your eyes<\/em><\/p>\n

the prophets and the ancestors<\/em><\/p>\n

peer into these times,<\/em><\/p>\n

the stillness is invaded<\/em><\/p>\n

by the breaking beats<\/em><\/p>\n

of your heart.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

A healing cloak of moa<\/em><\/p>\n

adorns your shoulders,<\/em><\/p>\n

the warm massage of<\/em><\/p>\n

feathers on flesh fashions comfort<\/em><\/p>\n

as rare as the Takahe.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

You weld waiata<\/em><\/p>\n

as sweet as Homer\u2019s sirens<\/em><\/p>\n

as sharp as Arthur\u2019s sword;<\/em><\/p>\n

you sometimes have need<\/em><\/p>\n

of arms to hold you.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

You follow the imprints of feet<\/em><\/p>\n

in the sand<\/em><\/p>\n

and wonder what it is<\/em><\/p>\n

that draws you<\/em><\/p>\n

to walk and sing waiata alone.<\/em><\/p>\n

\n

\n

A\u015eTEPT\u00c2ND \u00ceN GAR\u0102<\/strong><\/p>\n

\n

Astep\u0163i pe peron<\/p>\n

ca oportunitatea s\u0103 se iveasc\u0103.<\/p>\n

\n

Blestemi \u00eent\u00e2rzierea naibii<\/p>\n

care-\u0163i \u0163ine picioarele<\/p>\n

\u00eentr-o mare de lut \u2013<\/p>\n

asta este diferen\u0163a<\/p>\n

\u00eentre via\u0163\u0103 \u015fi moarte,<\/p>\n

faim\u0103 \u015fi obscuritate<\/p>\n

sau noroc \u015fi s\u0103r\u0103cie?<\/p>\n

Nu conteaz\u0103.<\/p>\n

\n

Po\u0163i merge fie \u00een jos<\/p>\n

\u0163ip\u00e2nd \u00een f\u0103lci<\/p>\n

sau g\u0103se\u015fte o cale afar\u0103 de aici<\/p>\n

\u015fi ofer\u0103-\u0163i m\u00e2na violonistului<\/p>\n

sau t\u00e2r\u0103\u015fte-\u0163i picioarele<\/p>\n

la o \u0163op\u0103ial\u0103 sau un dans irlandez,<\/p>\n

\u015ftiind c\u0103<\/p>\n

\n

din orice pu\u0163 vei bea<\/p>\n

oricare c\u00e2mp vei ara<\/p>\n

setea \u015fi muncile<\/p>\n

sunt la fel<\/p>\n

vrabia cade f\u0103r\u0103 nume<\/p>\n

iar trenul sose\u015fte doar atunci c\u00e2nd va sosi.<\/p>\n

———————-<\/p>\n

(Cele trei poezii selectate \u00een acest volum au fost publicate ini\u0163ial de Mark Raffills \u00een lanul de porumb & alte poezii<\/em>, PHANTOM PRESS, Nelson, 2005)<\/p>\n

\n

WAITING AT THE STATION <\/em><\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

You wait on the platform<\/em><\/p>\n

for opportunity to strike.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

You curse the damn delay<\/em><\/p>\n

that holds your feet<\/em><\/p>\n

in a sea of clay \u2013<\/em><\/p>\n

is this the difference<\/em><\/p>\n

between life and death,<\/em><\/p>\n

fame and obscurity<\/em><\/p>\n

or fortune and poverty?<\/em><\/p>\n

It matters not.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

You can either go down<\/em><\/p>\n

screaming into the jaws<\/em><\/p>\n

or bum a lift out of here<\/em><\/p>\n

and offer your hand to<\/em><\/p>\n

the fiddle player<\/em><\/p>\n

or shuffle your feet<\/em><\/p>\n

to a jig or reel,<\/em><\/p>\n

knowing that<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

whatever well you drink from<\/em><\/p>\n

whatever field you till<\/em><\/p>\n

the thirst and the labours<\/em><\/p>\n

are both the same<\/em><\/p>\n

the sparrow falls without a name<\/em><\/p>\n

and the train will only come when it will.<\/em><\/p>\n

——————————–<\/p>\n

(The poems selected for this collection were initially published by Mark Raffills in the cornfield & other poems<\/em>, PHANTOM PRESS, Nelson, 2005)<\/p>\n

———————————————<\/p>\n

*Translated by Valentina Teclici<\/p>\n

\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Cuvintele au fost capitalul de baz\u0103 al lui Mark Raffills pentru mai bine de 40 de ani. Fie c\u0103 a [&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],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-30899","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-articole"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/30899","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=30899"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/30899\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":30902,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/30899\/revisions\/30902"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=30899"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=30899"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=30899"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}