by Dominic Diamant

English translation and adaptation from the Romanian
by Andrei Dorian Gheorghe

Photographs and design
by Gabriel Ivanescu

I stayed on an astral terrace
with my best friends.
An ideal, splendid day,
and we felt like some gods.

Each of us had passed through
cosmic spaces and virtual, fantastic worlds,
which disappear in the abyss
if you don’t assume them.

All of us had been relays
carrying human spark
on inaccessible paths,
on unrepeatable ways.

Projecting new adventures,
we felt so good there.
Courageous and modest, we wanted to vanquish
only by our powers.
That was our choice!
(As I said, we felt like some gods.)
But suddenly, from the heavens, a voice:

“Be glad, you all are mine,
and I am a part
of your party.
But on the other side,
I feel like a dam
because of too much tragedy on Earth!
That was not written in the program! “

This time we were numb with shock,
vulnerable statues
under the living aura
becoming a fist
and disappearing soon after
as a desolate mist.

Very scared of the
absolutely amazing voice,
we didn’t know
what we had to do.

However, finally, awakened
with light in each eye,
we started to other horizons
as the birds fly.

It was clear: hate and catastrophes
were ravaging the Earth. Thus,
the wonderful planet ceased to be
a refuge and home for us.



Ma aflam pe o terasa astrala
cu putinii prieteni, doi-trei.
O zi splendida, ideala
iar noi ne simteam niste z(m)ei.

Fiecare din noi strabatuse
spatii cosmice si trecuse prin lumi
virtuale, fantastice, duse
in neant, daca nu ti le-asumi.

Fiecare era o stafeta
purtatoare de hram omenesc,
intr-un fel care nu se repeta
si putini izbutesc.

Ne simteam, intre noi, de minune,
proiectand, curajosi, noi ispravi.
Nici prin gand nu-mi trecuse ca nu ne
avantam sturlubatici in slavi,
izbutind doar prin fortele noastre.
(Doar am spus, ne simteam niste z(m)ei).
Cand, deodata, din cer, dintre astre:

“Bucurati-va, sunteti ai mei.
Cum petreceti acum, laolalta,
bucuros, printre voi, si eu sunt.
Dar sa stiti ca in mine tresalta
si tristetea. Ce vad eu pe Pamant,
nu se poate mai tragic sa fie.
Nu asa era scris in program!”

Impietrisem sub aura vie,
niste sfincsi vulnerabili eram.
Cutezand o-ntrebare a pune,
am ramas cu vocabula-n gat.
Aura, devenind o genune,
a lasat doar pustiu si urat.

Ne-a cuprins doar o spaima de moarte,
nestiind ce-ar mai fi de facut.
Insa glasul, venit de departe,
ne-a uimit intr-un mod absolut.

Ca treziti dintr-un vis, fiecare,
cu lumina-n priviri, am purces
spre un alt orizont, alta zare,
ca si cum am fi fost la cules.

Era clar ca Pamantu-n urgie,
devastat de tornade si ploi,
nu putea nicidecum sa mai fie
un refugiu si-un cuib pentru noi.

© 2007 SARM
(Romanian Society for Meteors and Astronomy)