Minerva
This tough young woman
shall become a goddess.
Her big eyes, her eyesight in
black globes,
her sandal that turns the leaned
blades of the grass
into marmor, under her step,
tell me that she is going to
become goddess.
And the leaves on the branches,
suddenly,
rustling above her, turn into
iron,
into iron as the curved sword
- the branch
that she is moving away with
her hand.
Certainly she is becoming goddess,
even though right now she is
only tough
and a young woman, with big
eyes.
Even the tear from her eye, when
it falls
lightstruckingly towards the
core of the big sphere
into iron bullet transforms
itself.
I feel and know how very soon
this tough young woman
is going to become, is becoming
goddess,
keeping in her right arm a beam
of light
changed into a heavy iron spear.
Minerva
Aceasta tanara femeie aspra
va deveni zeita.
Ochii ei mari, privirea ei in
globuri negre
sandaua ei ce-nmarmureste
sub pas, plecata, lama ierbii,
imi spun ca ea va deveni zeita.
Si frunzele pe ramuri, deodata,
fosnind deasupra ei se fac de
fier,
de fier ca sabia curbata - creanga
pe care ea o da cu mana-n laturi.
Desigur ea va deveni zeita,
desi acum e numai aspra
si tanara femeie, cu ochii mari.
Chiar lacrima din ochiul ei,
cand pica
strafulgerand spre miezul sferei
mari
in fier de glonte se preschimba.
Eu simt si stiu cum in curand
aceasta tanara femeie aspra
va deveni, va deveni zeita,
si-n bratul drept va tine-o
raza de lumina
schimbata-n lance grea de fier.
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