-Astropoems by Tit Tihon,
(from “About Stars, Sky and Universe. Advices of the Universe”
PIM Publishing House, Iasi, Romania, 2014);
-Text, photos and English translations by Andrei Dorian Gheorghe;
-Design by Florin Alexandru Stancu-

“The sky, a fact of powerful God,
Is a wonderful construction, but it has an end.
And you too, lights of gold, Sun and Moon,
You will darken lights, you will lose your coronets,
You smart stars, ornaments of the sky,
The clarion and the drum just await you.”

-Miron Costin (from World Life, 1671)-

Miron Costin was a great poet, chronicler and aristocrat in the 17th century
in the Romanian state of Moldavia.
He died in the city of Roman,
that explains the existence of a statue over there.

After 3 centuries, when I directed the first edition
of SARM’s Cosmopoetry Festival
(which took place in Targoviste as part of the Perseid event,
organized by Valentin Grigore) in 1996,
I found out a similar interest in astronomical poetry
in the works of 3 young students from the same city of Roman.
I’d like to remember them through 3 small quotations:

“Hurried meteor -
the whisper of a comet
between sky and man”

-Paul Boboc (national laureate under 16 years)-

“I saw you, wild fireball,
beautiful like the pain of a sunset…”

-Sergiu Dobos (national laureate under 18 years)-

“What can I do with you,
meteor inhaled
by a suicidal planet?”

-Lucian Boboc (national laureate under 20 years)-

Continuing on this line,
a few years ago I found out about another strong voice from Roman in this field,
Tit Tihon,
and in 2014 I was lucky to catch him right near the statue of Miron Costin.

-by Tit Tihon-

Time does not love and does not hate,
in the absolute Universe, moments can treasure
only those worthy people who serve
the nectar of knowledge of immortal justice.

Time educates the wise man’s
feeling and will
to find shelter anywhere he goes
far away in the abyss of dark energies.

Time passes alone for happy people,
blessing the maturity of teenagers,
detesting the rascals and their servants,
protecting the sacred food for truth.

-by Tit Tihon-

Who am really I?
Just a star lost in the Universe.

Who am really I?
Just a constellation thrown into the abyss.

Who am really I?
Just a second in a material crevasse…

Who am really I?
Maybe a hope for followers…

Who am really I?
Maybe a comet crumbled near the Sun…

Among the shadows of Hades’ world
thinking that they have captured
the school of Socrates, who cries…
the word Lyceum is lost in the abyss
among chiefs, who are only secretaries…

Who am really I?
Just a shout of happiness in nothingness.

Tit Tihon was born in 1949 and became a teacher of mathematics
(with a lot of books published in his long career),
“the astronomer of the city”
and even a trainer for the Romanian Olympic team of astronomy.

He invited me in May 2014 to participate at a special event organized by him,
and awaited me in the Roman railway station,
close to a water tower,
which he had proposed many years ago to be transformed
into an astronomical observatory
(unfortunately, no official reaction).

-by Tit Tihon-

The Universe has fallen into
human hypotheses of dark matter,
clusters of stars greet
the high antennas of the Earth,
the Sun, like a king, catches
in his beams the terminator of ground,
a black hole in Andromeda
appears near a living planet,
while a tridimensional-Euclidean star
is born again in the Milky Way.

-by Tit Tihon-

The planets are hot or icy,
so I think that in the Universe, somewhere,
there is life.

When I watch amazed the clear sky, full of stars,
I think I see far away many material worlds.

And, amazed, I watch again the sky full of other worlds,
I scrutinize dark matter by radiotelescope,
and in icy eyes from abysses placed at thousands of light years
I find nonconforming codes.

Past worlds appear in the distant Universe,
disappeared heavenly bodies I see,
I want to touch them,
it is a long distance,
my radiotelescope reincarnates me
in stars.

He wanted to show me the Sportive High School
(LPS, where he has been a teacher for the last years,
and that usually hosts national championships of minifootball,
a game in which Romania is multiple European champion),
proud for his contribution in the appearance of the Olympic Circles
on the main building.

-by Tit Tihon-

A long time ago
I wanted to know
if I can find an unseen planet
and suddenly I saw it
after a sunset mirrored like the shadow
of a heroic warrior.

Unclear desires enliven me,
the night star is the Polar Star,
not too far of Ursa Major
or the axle of the Great Chariot.

I remember when I was a child
and I used a lunette from an old teacher,
and from Newton, the esteemed scientist,
I drew in ink universal formulas.

This city was named after Roman Voda,
a “voievod” and “domnitor” who ruled the Romanian state of Moldavia
(today divided into a Romanian province and an independent republic)
in between 1391 and 1394,
and made here his Capital.
He took this name considering himself a continuer of the Roman Empire.
His statue,
including the Moldavian coat of arms (with the floral Sun, a star and the Moon)
dominates the centre of the city.

-by Tit Tihon-

I stay crucified on the tail of a living comet,
on the nucleus that flows in colors of ice,
and the chill light from the Sun comforts me,
over the Moon that lightens my nights.

I’m very sorry that the stellar flowers
died among the stars,
their light touched me too late
to flush my checks with a nebula.

The dream which disappeared in the night is so cruel,
with a simple 3D program on a tablet
unreeled on Terra in a codified language,
forgetting that Mother Gaia lightened us through it.

In fact, the settlement on which this city appeared was much older,
even from the Dacian times…

Anyway, I liked to walk through Roman by car
and especially by foot
(seeing more interesting buildings
and the “solar” house of the genial musical director Sergiu Celibidache)…

-by Tit Tihon-

Dark matter from Terra
conquers me with light,
like the pyramids which guard the pharaohs
mummified in sacred sarcophaguses.
They permanently look at the astral remoteness,
and me… nothing.

I stretch my hand to catch a sunbeam
and I slowly attract it
to light my heart of exiled centaur.
From beyond Mars, a comet asks me:
“Would you come to love me?”
And me… nothing.

On the wing of a cloud from the pink nebula,
I cover myself with the wave of the lost hopes
in the earthly Euclidean tridimensional.
The constellated Eagle asks me
for outclassing Icarus,
and me… nothing.

-by Tit Tihon-

Pacy Achilles decided to challenge the galactic tortoise:
“Could you run with me
if you carry your shell?”

The tortoise replied:
“Achilles, you will never touch my house
just because it is made as a logarithmic spiral.
But for this give me an advance of one kilometre please.”

We saw them in antiquity.

When Achilles touched 1 km,
the tortoise touched 1.5 km.
When Achilles touched 1.5 km,
the tortoise carried much farer its house in space.

And so on, motion in infinite time-space
until Achilles’ friends understood that
he will never catch up with the tortoise.

(As Parmenides said to Zeno,
between infinity and motion only paradoxes exist.)

-by Tit Tihon-

In a universe,
a colored nebula just like all nebulae are,
but mysterious and far,
thought to clone with a comet.

So the comets, lost among constellations,
sent messages for fusion in space,
wanting to become one with
the nebula dreaming of planetary creation.

But that nebula, with a chaste energy,
with emissions of bosons in belts of light,
rejected, haughty, all comets.

“I’ve changed my mind,
you are too insignificant.
Somewhere in space
I’ve found out a new supernova
who can passionately radiate me in quanta.
This is my favourite fusion,
heavenly body, pure dark energy.”

I also walked with Tit Tihon through the main park of Roman,
where I saw a small rainbow
and the small reproduction of the Infinite Column,
Constantin Brancusi’s masterpiece in Targu Jiu…

-by Tit Tihon-

In my Universe,
in my galaxy,
only comets come…
they are memories and theories,
or maybe only
disorderly hypotheses,
telling me only formulas.

They exhaust me
and spiritually fascinate me,
a hypothesis tortures me again
for the millenary transformation
to my living planet:

to become on Terra
what I was on Andromeda.

-by Tit Tihon-

The wise man does not accept the astral sadness,
he does not cry for lost vain things,
time simultaneously sees him in more places
purely reveling with science and poetry.

The wise man abandons the facility of life
looking for perfection beyond nothingness
over there, in the infinite, where hope is divine
like the Sun rising in the west.

The wise man uses to give good advices
and belief in the cloud of virtue,
praised by the gods from the green paradise;
still living, people should be astral.

Although today the city of Roman has only 50000 inhabitants,
it passed through flourishing times in the past,
sustained by two important communities: Armenian and Jewish
(that gave “the father of Romanian reportage”, Brunea Fox).
Those times gave more beautiful historical monuments,
from which I visited several,
beginning with the White Church (made in the 18th century).

-by Tit Tihon-

I look for you, my nebula,
among fractals,
you are close to our DNA,
the infinite is just a mathematical symbol,
the Universe is just a finite material,
the Big Bang is just a hypothesis,
our existence, just a prism of lights,
hopes of the people who will survive,
the eternal belief that has remained in the divine.

From astral powers I have received only love,
the might of my fate, which strokes my way,
redemption is just prop in nothingness,
I do not disperse myself in the dark abyss…

The Eden welcomes me near the tree of life,
nonconforming structures climb me to the sky,
energy from supernovae returns me to life
somewhere in the Galaxy where I was born.

-by Tit Tihon-

I will galacticly live
among circular nebulae,
rainbows lost in remoteness.

I will galacticly live
flying with spaceships
among strings of clusters of stars.

I will galacticly live
among the unknown planets
that will erect my cloned hopes…

The Armenian Church (made in the 19th century in the current form,
but founded a few centuries ago) is quite impressive:
Sun and Moon on its crosses, a respectable clock,
a few other representations of the Sun…

-by Tit Tihon-

I want to be listened
by the Universe…

I want to be integrated
in changing dark matter,
I want to be patient and to rise
beyond the primitive nebulae,
I want to be cloned with a comet
among multicolored nuclei,
I want to halt on the heavenly body of the night,
which was sung in verses by poets,
I want to stop on Mars
and to live in a Martian igloo,
I hope that you will understand that
I am just matter
divinely endorsed by spirituality.

I want to be mummified
in the Universe.

-by Tit Tihon-

After the Big Bang,
two close stars,
very clever and full of vibrations,
orientated themselves to an edge of the Universe.

The double star (prouder)
said to the new star (naiver):
“Let’s walk through the Universe
to make some Euclidean matter.”

But the naiver star
(who wanted to be prouder)
said (a little humble):
“Let there be God’s wish.”

The Church of God’s Mother, founded in the 16th century,
has many painted stars and two variants of the astral coat of arms of Moldavia!

-by Tit Tihon-

Oh, earthling,
one day I saw a nebula far away in the Universe,
when round dances begin in the country,
fusing into circles and astral living vortexes.

When their music strongly fires on the canopy of heaven,
the game accelerates with the speed of light,
heavenly bodies create inscrutable barriers,
rolling embraced in dark energy.

When the game languishes,
astral music gets angry,
strengthening resonances in abysses,
and the evolving planets defy nonconforming theories
on elliptic trajectories.

Then light years pass one after the other,
tumultuous passions dash from forgotten nebulae,
continuing the astral fusion in the supreme enigma,
wasting invisible worlds of suns.

-by Tit Tihon-

My soul cries for my comet,
multicolored petals which disappeared in the Sun,
among beams of light extinguishing in a dream,
when the Moon crucified itself in the clouds of the horizon.

My comet watches me out,
the universe that created me is so cruel,
from drops of cosmic dew spiritually united,
the clay was sanctified by the ghost
that made my face.

With warm nuances of longing,
she gave me vestment,
the comet with the hair unrolled in the abyss,
over the planets near the living planet,
which rose life in the horizon of the Green Field.

But tomorrow I don’t want to see in my dream
the comet withering in my soul,
my life on this planet is so sad,
affected by the comet who touched me.

Another admirable monument is the Roman-Catholic Church,
made in the interbellic times (20th century).

-by Tit Tihon-

Multicolored galaxies,
flowers of lily-of-the-valley,
are too far, I cannot touch them or smell them,
I slide on the time stair
to touch a petal
and to give a flower to my deluded soul.

My state of happiness calls me in the night
to the singular oases where
I find fragrances of hyacinths with smell of cold rain,
tears coming from the dew of the sad mornings.

I need to meditate
among the torrents from the street,
too many colored petals float in leeway,
naughtily rent by the wind.

And suddenly I watch the sky
looking for my colored galaxy,
I sadly find that it has disappeared in the night,
leaving behind a longing for cosmic dust.

-by Tit Tihon-

Clusters of stars and suns over clouds
throw tears of light in the Universe,
thousands of fireworks nest
in the nocturnal sky of my hopes.

Nebulae explode through chords,
my body begins to vibrate
just like when I was kissed by Aphrodite
made of the froth of the sea.

My happiness was ephemeral,
today my soul cannot cry,
I am mysteriously metamorphosed among stars,
strings of stars embrace me.

The most beautiful and important monument is the Achiepiscopacy of Roman,
founded in the beginning of the 15th century and rebuilt later,
with another variant of the Moldavian coat of arms,
in which the heavenly bodies are replaced by the Divine Eye
between the corns of an aurochs.

-by Tit Tihon-

The neutrinic thought thrills me,
how much Terra loves us,
the same about the Moon, planets, the Sun,
which were primordial.

Sometimes I guess that
the Universe’s divinity wanted to choose
only the earthlings
who could defeat
only the theory of relativity.

-by Tit Tihon-

I listen in the Universe to a far ding-dang,
bells with resonances among nebulae
lost in dark matter,
cathedrals over a time with golden cupolas.

I quiver hearing the divine sound
of the star Mizar,
I also see spires of churches built in stars,
suavely lit by thousands of multicolored comets,
astral whispers which are performed in the planets’ altar.

The magic face of infinite immortality
moves me, the divine ding-dang,
the sublime desire to catch in my palms
the star of life lost on Terra.

In 16 May 2014 Tit Tihon organized a national symposium of astronomy,
which took place in the famous Roman Voda High School
(founded in the 19th century), which
he had served before for many years as a teacher.

-by Tit Tihon-

Happiness is not absolute satisfaction,
when nothing useful remains
brutalizing the logic of mind
and mugging the truth.

The reason of happiness is found out
in simple harmonies
as any substance free in nature,
result of universal concord,
nothing strange, enviable allegories.

We should be sure that the virtue of our happiness
consists of good words mirrored in souls,
the right line represented by a child’s slide rule,
not by the geometrician’s shivering hand.

For the brightness of that symposium,
Tit Tihon conceived a superb cosmopoetry gala,
where I admired an exhibition with his books, many astral projections,
a young musician performing Beethoven’s Moon Sonata,
children dramatically performing a poem about planets by Tit Tihon
and presenting their astroartwork,
young students reciting astropoems by Tit Tihon,
intellectuals delivering interesting considerations.

It was, indubitably,
the Cosmopoetry Gala of the Year 2014
anywhere in the world,
a crowning of Tit Tihon’s astropoetic opera!

-by Tit Tihon-

Who am I?
I am what I am, said Nioth,
like a star slowly whispering desires
forgotten in rainbows.

Who am I?
Am I finite?
The Universe is infinite,
with its soul umbilically connected to stars
and a name written among the planets.

Who am I?
Just a star forgotten in a small universe,
a nova rambling in a new galaxy,
lost in the chaos of eternal time.

Finally I felt myself indebted to write a reply
to my host,
nobody else than the Romanian national laureate for astropoetry in 2014.

-by Andrei Dorian Gheorghe-

Dear friend Tit Tihon or Tihon Tit,
Your astropoetry is a hit!

But he wanted to come
with the last astropoetic reply:

-by Tit Tihon-

Far in the Universe of terrestrial existence
filled with stars,
the boat of life slides on mountains of waves of comets
among too alive galaxies and nebulae.

Ten astral commandments
lowered among earthlings.

Do not lose with your spaceship among asteroids.

Remember that all of us are in the same rocket.

Make plans and do not rain when Noah builds the Ark.

Wait, life will ask you something in the last years.

Don’t listen to criticism, just go away on your dream.

Make your future after high desires.

Be careful and do not travel alone.

Abandon the evil.

When you are stressed, float on calm waters.

The Ark was made by amateurs,
while Apollo by the best professionals,
and yet…


English translations from the Romanian by Andrei Dorian Gheorghe
© 2014 SARM
(Romanian Society for Meteors and Astronomy)