"Spring was muddy; as you crossed the city's outskirts toward the hill, the earth would suck you in, and you entered the homeland like butter. It was always raining, and only now and then would the sun hurriedly emerge like a speeding disc, and during the sunny breaks, the air smelled of roasted mushrooms."

— Marin Sorescu, Three Front Teeth, 1977

Marin Sorescu, "Getting Used to Your Name" (trans. Gabriela Dragnea) [ID'd]

Marin Sorescu, tr. by Michael Longley & Joanna Russell-Gebbet, from "Map,"

Marin Sorescu - The Tear - translated by Seamus Heaney

Jonah by Marin Sorescu

"What a sanctuary, to sit head in hands, in the middle of the soul."

Marin Sorescu

Each one the other’s phantom limb in the sea.

Marin Sorescu, from “Fountains in the sea”

Marin Sorescu, “The Sea Shell”

From Selected Poems, 1983

(...) Vendé los ojos de la tristeza Con una sonrisa, Y me halló la tristeza al día siguiente En un amor. Vendé los ojos del sol Con mis noches Y dije búsquenme. Allí estás, dijo el sol, Detrás de ese tiempo, No te ocultes más.

He vendado | Marin Sorescu

"The only thing I'd make, if I had the means, would be a wooden bench in the middle of the sea. A grand construction of planed oak, so that the more cowardly seagulls could rest on it during a storm. It's exhausting keep pushing the waves from behind, giving them a kind of madness, better for the wind to settle there from time to time, and, thinking of me, say: 'He never made anything worthwhile in his life apart from this wooden bench, putting the sea all around it.' I've given it a lot of thought, and that is what I'd really like to do. Oh, what a sanctuary, to sit head in hands, in the middle of the soul."

— Marin Sorescu, Jonah, 1968 (first play of The Thirst of the Salt Mountain trilogy, along with The Verger and The Matrix)

Today's Dracula Daily entry was really short. So I'm picking another author from that post by @zarzava with the Romanian authors. This time, the author is Marin Sorescu.

(reads the first poem on the list)

I love this person's writing already.

"Seashell" seems to be about trying to find a piece of yourself (in a sea of other people?) which is quite a relatable feeling. Except instead of a sea of people, it's a literal sea full of seashells. He doesn't even mind if his seashell is in some dangerous situation (like eaten by a giant fish); he just wants to be complete again. I think there are a lot of people who might feel a similar way.

"Carbon Paper" is the next poem on the list. Unless I'm misunderstanding it, this poem is about a giant piece of paper stuck to Sorescu's front door, which constantly illustrates his thoughts. It's probably a metaphor for how it feels to be a poet. All sorts of people being able to literally read what you think about, and react to it in very different ways.

So far, the theme seems to be "a not-so-tangible part of this person is somehow in something that's not himself". First a part of his personality in a seashell, and then his thoughts on that giant piece of paper. Like the second poem says, it's like a part of his soul keeps slipping away from him whenever he tries to look for it.

The next poem on the list is "Creation", a poem where a very surreal earthquake in happening. But I'm not sure what the deeper meaning is, even though I'm pretty sure there is one? Perhaps it ties into the theme of the first two somehow? The first paragraph talks about how he writes "on the earthquakes", and that, because of this, his words often slip away from him. So perhaps, in this case, the not-so-tangible part of him is his words, which are now written in the earthquake.

Unfortunately I do not have the literacy skills to figure out what the deeper meaning behind that last poem is. Or for probably any of the poems.

But I can say this for sure: those were some fun and thoughtful poems. They low-key remind me of Bill Wurtz's song videos on YouTube: kinda surreal at first glance, but makes you think about some really deep stuff. I'll look for more of Sorescu's works in the future, whenever I feel like reading a poem. And I definitely recommend these poems if anyone else wants to read them!

#90

Ok am nevoie sa se știe: I am a Iona (Marin Sorescu) simp! E atât de wet and pathetic! Og Blorbo I am rotating him in my mind like a microwave.

Like serios, e un personaj perfect, și perfect de relatable, și perfect de Just A Guy, și nu pot sublinia îndeajuns cât de ud și de patetic!

Doresc grav sa văd fics și fanart cu el, ca și când ar fi un personaj într-un serial mainstream!