page2 ait, Young Romanian Poets Sorina Sandu: Mireasa cuvintelor de taina (Craiova: Autograf MGM, 2006, 87 pages) by Revd Dr Dorn Costache The brand new volume of poems published (in Romanian) by Sorina Sandu, The bride of mystery’s words, exuberantly manifests the complex inner universe of an extremely sensible soul. Her training in theology and literature, together with her long lasting interest for Emil Cioran’s challenging philosophy, opened for her wide honzons of symbolic expression, making her poetry astonishingly vivid and profound, almost mythological. In fact she has the ability to perceive the deepness of human conscience, seizing it in its most striking internal and external attitudes The book consists of two parts, significantly titled as Cémtec de racbot (War chant) and respectively Boatbe de taint (Seeds of mystery) Inthe following I will try to point to a few recurrent themes, far from intending any exhaustive analysis ‘Although Arghezi’s taste for dark imagery is well represented here (eg ceard otrawiti | poisoned wax, ingert ologt I ame angels, haina de mucegat I cloths of fungi etc), this poetry is very Cioran-like at least in respect of its existential substance if not in its poetic expression. Sorina celebrates polyphonically the funeral of human's vanity and decay, in notes of sad humour. Everything is inconsistent and about to die; flesh’s opulence is just a chimera... For instance, the ‘women bring to Brother Michael oftanda noptt, ! nocturnal sacrifice, trupurt de cenusc | bodies of ash ((Cantec de ricboi', War chant), Death is tremendously omnipresent, hiding everywhere behind Sorina’s verses, when itis not clearly indicated — although always depicted in familiar, peaceful tones Sometimes death is a lover Jn flecare searat | Every night ‘moartea mai start | death kisses me ‘pe gurd/ on the lips (Amenintare’, Menace), Some other times it is justa tired traveller, evaluating people's term on earthy ‘S-a apropitat trmidé | Timidly, she came closer ‘mmi-a pipéat coastele, / touching my ribs, a incercat sé-mmt cde | she tried to sing for me tut Recviem /a Requiem pe clapele de piatrés ale sufletulut; | on the stone-keys of my soul; pot m-a aduimecat prelung /then she smelled me for a long time “Inca mu mirost a pendent,” You do not smell of clay yet,” ‘mmi-a soptit somnoroasa I sleepy, she uttered. Era obositt moartea. ! Death was tired ‘S-a cuilcat idngé mine | She laid next to me sdmbind | smiling (‘Pargs’, Firstlings) Reading these verses one could hear Cioran proclaiming the tremendous truth: we started to die the very day of our birth, and it's just a matter of freeing our mind from prejudices in order to acknowledge this truth. All is subject to dissolution, nothing lasts for ever: Toate fmt par invitutte | Everything seem to be veiled inceata mort. by the shadow of the death, ‘Astigmatism’, Astigmatism). This warning leaves however no room for our contemporary irrational hedonism; with Sorina’s poetry, the warning becomes an invitation to wisdom and decency. She seems to address the issue of a corrupted ‘world in her “Raspuns’ (Answer) Domnule Dementor / Mr Dementor poesia mea mu are sex: I my poetry does not have gender; 0 specte dementia desuett | it rather isa crazy species, outdated pe cale de dispevtte: | onits way to extinction animal asemat | gendertess animal Muse imperecheaci I It does not seek to mate Ja subsol /in hidden places st mu o pott cuprinde /and one cannot catch it in dintat provirilor I with the eye's teeth sito sffsit cu poftt / to tustfully tear it apart. Poesia mu e aomantit rastignita | Poetry is not a crucified lover in pat murder ai cetitt, Jona city's dirty bed, @ insdgt mireasa cuvintelor I it rather is the bride of words An escape from the world of indecency and decay can be found only through regeneration. By means ofa wonderful paraphrase of St Paul's teaching on redeeming the flesh (cf eg 1 Corinthians 612-20), Sorina invites the sickened modem ‘mind to change, to regain purity Hat tine facem mat bine copit | pages Parochial Life november december 2008 |page3 Young... © page 2 Let us become again children sti ne juctim indraigostit Ito play inlove oferinds-ne trupul hunintt! | offering our bodies to the light! Sa fir cnttrett La mamta I Let us be singers at the crowning Chovératutut cu trupul. / of the ‘Word with the body. Sane nastem in flecare =i ILet us bbe bom again every day ‘mat suflet ! more soul ‘mat zbor / more flight iubire lind I gentle love Ttamtndi! ght! (‘ingerul a urlat’, The angel shouted), Sorina goes beyond Cioran’s legacy, and not just because she comes up witha new powerful mythology of human existential adventure. She isa Christian and she mows how everything can be healed, renewed, transfigured ‘A vigorous optimistic message emerges and the poet becomes the prophet of our times. A warrior, one could say, although Sorina plays here the song of our world’s redemption The Morning's Divinity by Simona Strungaru The bright golden sun shines in through my room, Reflecting amongst my things and making them loom. lay in my bed: my eyes still closed shut, As | hear gentle songs of birds sitting on huts. The cherished, sweet sounds brings peace to my ear, As if serenade of angels are there next to me. As | open my eyes | feel the sun rays, Touching my pupils and showing me a brand new day. As | look out my window, I feel | am bestowed, As the nature is enlightened by God's outgiving glow. The butterflies flaunt their wonderful wings, Whilst flowers outstretch their petals, os if they are Kings My heart fils with joy as | see the morning’s treasure, While my eyes enjoy the view with a great amount of pleasure. The horses strut through the field’s wide vicinity, Whilst their neighbouring felines lay on the porch with femininity. The smile on my face doesn't cease to disappear, As | then hear the rooster’s call, nice and clear, And I pray to the Lord to guide me safe throughout my ways, And bring me back home so | can wake Up To the moming’s divinity, and to another new day!! Christmas... “© page 1 heart How is He contained ina womb, whom nothing can contain. And how can He who is in the bosom of the Father be held in the arms of His mother? Itis revealed clerly to us: This is according to His good pleasure, as He mows and wishes, For being without flesh, of His own will has He beon macle flesh; and He who is, for our sakes has become that which He was not. Without departing from His own nature He had shared in our substance Desiring to fill the world on high with citizens, Christ has undergone a twofold birth ‘There is tangible verification for the seemingly fantastic event Today the Virgin gives birth to Him who is above all being and the eavth offers a cave to Him ——-Menaion, Trensletors Mother Mery and whom no man can approach Archimandhite Kellistos Ware, Faber & Angels with shepherds give glory, Fabes, 1977. and Magi journey with a star. For unto us is Born a young Child, the pre-eternal God There are ‘witnesses: angels, persons and nature relate to their Creator Why did our Lord have to be born in the flesh? Why did He abase Himself, leaving heaven to come to earth? Matins is explicit and 1 encourage you to discover your own conversations whilst I return to the Festal Menaion to re-engage in the forthcoming auspicious morning service of our Church “Words in italics ‘based on The Festal Parochial Life november december 2008 |