{"id":30907,"date":"2017-07-07T20:34:58","date_gmt":"2017-07-07T20:34:58","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/?p=30907"},"modified":"2017-07-07T20:34:58","modified_gmt":"2017-07-07T20:34:58","slug":"penelope-foster-poduri-lirice-poetical-bridges-poeme-bilingve","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/2017\/07\/07\/penelope-foster-poduri-lirice-poetical-bridges-poeme-bilingve\/","title":{"rendered":"Penelope Foster: Poduri Lirice – Poetical Bridges (poeme bilingve)"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a>Penelope Foster se prezint\u0103: \u201eM-am n\u0103scut \u015fi am crescut \u00een Natal, Africa de Sud. Am ajuns \u00een Napier t\u00e2n\u0103r\u0103 so\u0163ie \u015fi mam\u0103 \u00een 1974, \u015fi de atunci locuiesc fericit\u0103 \u00een Hawke\u2019s Bay. Mi-a pl\u0103cut dintotdeauna s\u0103 citesc poezie \u015fi s\u0103 recit. Cu toate acestea, am \u00eenceput s\u0103 scriu propriile mele versuri pe la patruzeci de ani. Ambele forme, versul rimat \u015fi rima alb\u0103 au provoc\u0103rile lor \u015fi \u00eemi place s\u0103-mi \u00eencerc puterile cu ambele. \u00cemi place s\u0103 m\u0103 plimb \u015fi-n plimb\u0103rile mele sunt adesea inspirat\u0103 de frumuse\u0163ea peisajelor \u00eenconjur\u0103toare sau a locurilor care-mi trezesc interesul. De-a lungul anilor, am scris o serie de poezii de dragoste. \u00cen aceast\u0103 colec\u0163ie, cele trei poezii ale mele sunt \u00eentr-un fel sau altul poezii de dragoste. \u201eDragostea unei mame\u201d a fost scris\u0103 pentru o prieten\u0103 drag\u0103 din Africa de Sud, c\u00e2nd fiul ei a fost ucis \u00een mod tragic, \u015fi eu nu am putut fi cu ea. Scriind cuvinte de consolare a fost tot ce am putut face. \u201eIarna\u201d a fost par\u0163ial inspirat\u0103 de moartea unui client de-al meu \u00een v\u00e2rst\u0103, a c\u0103rui so\u0163ie l-a \u00eengrijit cu dragoste timp de mul\u0163i ani. Dragostea (poezii) \u015fi moartea par partenere neverosimile, dar ambele sunt inseparabile de existen\u0163a uman\u0103.<\/p>\n

Am citit prima dat\u0103 la cenaclul Poe\u0163ilor \u00een via\u0163\u0103 din Hawke\u2019s Bay \u00een 1996, \u015fi sunt de atunci un membru care contribuie destul de regulat. \u00cen 2014, eu, \u00eempreun\u0103 cu al\u0163i trei poe\u0163i, am publicat poeme \u00een \u201eMurmure din interior\u201d<\/em>, o c\u0103rticic\u0103 de versuri publicat\u0103 de un prieten, membru al Societ\u0103\u0163ii Teozofice, din care \u015fi eu fac parte.\u201d<\/p>\n

\n

***<\/p>\n

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

Penelope Foster introduces herself: I was born and raised in Natal, South Africa. I arrived in Napier as a young wife and mother in 1974, and have been happy to live in Hawke\u2019s Bay ever since. Reading and reciting poetry have always been enjoyable to me for as long as I can remember. However, I only began writing my own verses in my forties. Both rhyming lines and free verse have their respective challenges and I like to try my hand at both. I love to walk, and am often inspired by the surrounding scenes of beauty or interest as I do so. Over the years I have written a number of love poems. In this collection, all my three poems are love poems of a sort. “A Mother’s Love” was penned for a dear friend in South Africa when her son was tragically killed, and I could not be with her. Writing words of comfort was all I could do. “Winter” was inspired partly by the death of an elderly client of mine, whose wife had lovingly cared for him for many years. Love (poems) and death seem unlikely companions, but both are inseparable from human existence. I first read at Hawke\u2019s Bay Live Poets group about 1996, and have been a fairly regular contributor ever since.\u00a0 In 2014, I published poems in “Murmurs from Within”, a small book of poems, self-published by a friend, a member of The Theosophical Society that I also belong to. In 2014,<\/em> I, along with three other poets, published poems <\/em>in Murmurs From Within, a small book of poems, self-published by a friend, a member of The Theosophical Society that I also belong to.\u2019<\/em><\/em><\/p>\n

\n

***<\/p>\n

\n

DRAGOSTEA ESTE<\/strong><\/p>\n

\n

Dragostea este purpuriul unui ametist lustruit
\nauriul unui r\u0103s\u0103rit de soare iarna.
\nMirosul pic\u0103turilor de ploaie
\nlovind p\u0103m\u00e2ntul uscat
\n\u015fi marea luminat\u0103<\/p>\n

de cre\u015fterea unei luni portocalii.<\/p>\n

\n

Dragostea este patul t\u0103u dup\u0103 o lun\u0103 c\u00e2nd ai fost plecat<\/p>\n

o baie fierbinte la sf\u00e2r\u015fitul unei zile obositoare.<\/p>\n

\n

Dragostea este apa rece \u00eentr-o zi torid\u0103,<\/p>\n

focul din \u015femineu \u00eentr-o zi geroas\u0103.<\/p>\n

O \u00eembr\u0103\u0163i\u015fare de consolare \u00eentr-o zi trist\u0103,<\/p>\n

\u015fi r\u00e2sul \u00eemp\u0103rt\u0103\u015fit \u00eentr-o zi fericit\u0103.<\/p>\n

\n

Dragostea este primul z\u00e2mbet al primului t\u0103u copil,<\/p>\n

Este z\u00e2mbetul unui str\u0103in \u00eentr-un ora\u015f str\u0103in.<\/p>\n

\n

Dragostea este unde tu alegi s\u0103 fie!<\/p>\n

Dragostea e\u015fti tu, Dragostea sunt eu.<\/p>\n

Dragostea Este!<\/p>\n

\n

LOVE IS<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

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

Love is the purple of a polished amethyst<\/em><\/p>\n

the gold of a winter sunset.<\/em><\/p>\n

It is the smell of raindrops<\/em><\/p>\n

hitting dry earth<\/em><\/p>\n

and the sea lit up by a<\/em><\/p>\n

rising orange moon.<\/em><\/p>\n

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

Love is your own bed after a month away<\/em><\/p>\n

a hot bath at the end of a busy day.<\/em><\/p>\n

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

Love is cool water on a sizzling day,<\/em><\/p>\n

an open fire on a frosty day.<\/em><\/p>\n

It is a sympathetic hug on a sad day,<\/em><\/p>\n

and shared laughter on a happy day.<\/em><\/p>\n

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

Love is the first smile of your first-born,<\/em><\/p>\n

It is a stranger\u2019s smile in a strange town.<\/em><\/p>\n

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

Love is where you choose it to be!<\/em><\/p>\n

Love is you, Love is me.<\/em><\/p>\n

Love Is!<\/em><\/p>\n

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

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

IARNA<\/strong><\/p>\n

\n

Vi\u0163a de vie iarna, epuizat\u0103, a renun\u0163at
\nla roadele muncii ei,
\na\u015fa cum tu ai renun\u0163at, Iubirea Mea.<\/p>\n

Regenerarea se odihne\u015fte \u00een interiorul
\nformeler negre osoase
\ns\u0103 \u00eenfloreasc\u0103 \u00eentr-un alt sezon
\nde timp \u015fi spa\u0163iu.<\/p>\n

La fel ca tine, Iubirea Mea.
\nDar anotimpul t\u0103u nu va fi limitat
\nde spa\u0163iu \u015fi timp
\n\u015fi de aspectul armonios al acestui plan.<\/p>\n

Mun\u0163ii \u00eendep\u0103rta\u0163i sunt
\nalba\u015ftri cu ghemuiri reci
\nsub noile lor p\u0103turi<\/p>\n

moi \u015fi albe,
\nreflect\u00e2nd inima mea amor\u0163it\u0103
\nrece \u015fi tremur\u00e2nd
\nla cuvintele de condolean\u0163e
\namabile \u015fi lipsite de sens.<\/p>\n

Nop\u0163i lungi de iarn\u0103, \u00eemprejmuite
\nde lumina focului \u015fi amintiri
\noarbe la stele str\u0103lucitoare sau
\nv\u00e2nturile sudice ce p\u0103trund la os.<\/p>\n

\n

Dar unde e\u015fti, Iubirea Mea?<\/p>\n

Voi a\u015ftepta vara
\ns\u0103 se strecoare cu frunze noi
\n\u00eenapoi \u00een lumea mea.<\/p>\n

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

WINTER <\/strong><\/p>\n

\n

The exhausted winter vines have given up<\/p>\n

the fruits of their labour,<\/p>\n

as you have, My Love.<\/p>\n

Regeneration rests within<\/p>\n

their bony black shapes<\/p>\n

to flourish in another season<\/p>\n

of time and space.<\/p>\n

So too with you, My Love.<\/p>\n

But your season will not be limited<\/p>\n

by space and time<\/p>\n

and shapely form of this plane.<\/p>\n

\n

The distant mountains are<\/p>\n

blue with cold<\/p>\n

huddling beneath their new<\/p>\n

blankets, soft and white,<\/p>\n

reflecting my numb heart<\/p>\n

cold and shivering<\/p>\n

under words of condolence<\/p>\n

kind and meaningless.<\/p>\n

Long winter nights, closed in<\/p>\n

by firelight and memories<\/p>\n

oblivious to brilliant stars or<\/p>\n

bone-chilling southern winds.<\/p>\n

\n

But, where are you, My Love?<\/p>\n

I shall wait for the summer<\/p>\n

to creep with new leaves<\/p>\n

back into my world.<\/p>\n

\n

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

DRAGOSTEA UNEI MAME<\/strong><\/p>\n

\n

Dragostea unei mamei \u00eendur\u0103:
\nEste agonia na\u015fterii
\nTransformat\u0103 dintr-o dat\u0103 \u00een extaz.<\/p>\n

\n

Dragostea unei mamei \u00eendur\u0103:
\nEa dep\u0103\u015fe\u015fte toate barierele
\nOboselii, epuiz\u0103rii,
\nEgoismului, frustr\u0103rii.<\/p>\n

\n

Dragostea unei mamei \u00eendur\u0103:
\nCreeaz\u0103 mult\u0103<\/p>\n

Minuna\u0163ie \u015fi r\u00e2s,
\nCultiv\u0103 at\u00e2ta
\nGenerozitate \u015fi bucurie.<\/p>\n

\n

Dragostea unei mame \u00eendur\u0103:
\nSupravie\u0163uie\u015fte orice pierdere.
\nEa curge ve\u015fnic \u015fi hr\u0103ne\u015fte
\nVastul ocean al iubirii universale
\nCare ghideaz\u0103 p\u00e2n\u0103 \u015fi fiecare<\/p>\n

Minuscul destin la adev\u0103rata \u00eemplinire.<\/p>\n

\n

Dragostea unei\u00a0 mamei \u00eendur\u0103!<\/p>\n

\n

A MOTHER\u2019 S LOVE <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

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

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

A mother\u2019s love endures:<\/em><\/p>\n

It is the agony of birth<\/em><\/p>\n

Transformed at once to ecstasy.<\/em><\/p>\n

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

A mother\u2019s love endures:<\/em><\/p>\n

It overcomes all barriers<\/em><\/p>\n

Of tiredness, exhaustion<\/em><\/p>\n

Of selfishness, frustration<\/em><\/p>\n

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

A mother\u2019s love endures:<\/em><\/p>\n

It creates much<\/em><\/p>\n

Wonderment and laughter,<\/em><\/p>\n

It nurtures such<\/em><\/p>\n

Generosity and joy.<\/em><\/p>\n

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

A mother\u2019s love endures:<\/em><\/p>\n

It survives all loss.<\/em><\/p>\n

It flows eternally and feeds<\/em><\/p>\n

The vast ocean of Universal Love<\/em><\/p>\n

Which ever guides each<\/em><\/p>\n

Tiny destiny to true fulfilment.<\/em><\/p>\n

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

A Mother\u2019s Love Endures!<\/em><\/p>\n

———————————————<\/p>\n

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

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

Penelope Foster se prezint\u0103: \u201eM-am n\u0103scut \u015fi am crescut \u00een Natal, Africa de Sud. Am ajuns \u00een Napier t\u00e2n\u0103r\u0103 so\u0163ie [&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-30907","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-articole"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/30907","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=30907"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/30907\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":30910,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/30907\/revisions\/30910"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=30907"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=30907"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=30907"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}