Cu brate de vara..

Wednesday March 22, 2006 - 11:43pm

Velvet sky. With no wrinkles, no shadows, a burned blue. Sky that is about to fall over me, hanging by miracle , like a curtain on the big scene of life. The air splits in strips of silk around my body , curling with feline movements , barely perceptible. Someone talks a few steps next to me about an accident. 2 trams crushed. I wait and I don't wait the driver to get on the bus. A boy threw himself  into the chair next to mine and a wave of sickly perfume hit me, too sweet..I'm trying to trick my senses not to feel it anymore, with no success. At the radio , an old romanian music, with bittersweet fragrance that makes me think about times long forgotten. A lot of lights dress the city, in many colors. A cat profile appears in the orange of a window, with its whiskers vibrating like violin strings..The car quickly and smoothly slips like in a dream. Once again , the fresh air outside that I greet with joy. It smells like summer, not like spring, but like summer with its black, dense foliage, whispering in the wind under the gentle moon light , with insects, rumors, snakes of shadows and light, wild vegetation, with arms of brenches, ground and perfume.This air throws me directly in the middle of those summers of bliss (it was hard to translate this from romanian, I think I didn't succeed in recreating the feeling ~)
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Cer de catifea.Catifea fara cute, fara umbre, de un albastru ars.Cer gata sa cada pe mine , agatat printr-un miracol, ca o cortina deasupra marii scene a vietii.Aerul se desparte in fasii de matase fina in jurul trupului meu,se unduieste cu miscari de felina, abia perceptibile.Cineva vorbeste la cativa pasi de mine despre un accident.S-au ciocnit doua tramvaie in vale.Astept si nu astept soferul sa urc in maxi.Un baiat se tranteste pe scaun langa mine cu un val de parfum gretos, prea dulce.Incerc sa-mi pacalesc simturile, sa nu-l mai simt, fara succes.La radio o muzica romaneasca, veche, cu miresme dulci-amarui ma duce cu gandul la vremuri ce nu mai sunt.Lumini multe imbraca orasul ,de felurite forme, culori...Un profil de pisica acopera miezul de portocala al unui geam.Mustatile ii vibreaza ca niste multiple corzi de vioara, parca i le si vad... :) Masina aluneca lent si rapid ca un vis.Din nou, aerul de afara pe care il intampin cu bucurie.Imi miroase a vara.Nu a primavara ci a vara cu frunzis des si negru ce freamata in soapte de vant sub mangaierea lunii, cu miresme, insecte, zvonuri, serpi de lumini si umbre, cu vegetatie salbatica si coapta, cu brate de crengi si pamant parfumat.Aerul asta ma arunca direct in miezul acelor veri de uitare de sine...
OM