Welcome to our international Guest Poet, Andrei Velea, Galati, Romania, translated by NWG Inc’s Committee member, Mihaela Cristescu, Sydney, Australia. Banner of The Small Wall, Galati, by Mihaela Cristescu.
when it rains, chopin / poem about my soul
when it rains in my soul
the rain trickles down a huge piano
each drop plays separately a piece by chopin
it’s a scrambled noise in a shell, an old, broken cassette
which you put to your ear, you abandon all prejudice
and listen to the sea in high fidelity
when it rains in my soul,
blinded by their scarf someone chooses
the most contradictory feelings
which I ever felt
they make me recognize them in Three-card Monte, acknowledge them
put them into words
sit in all sorts of awkward positions, doing the splits
feet stuck in continents moving aimlessly
while a dj hallucinatorily remixes them on turntables
when it rains in my soul I invoke an umbrella
-out of all kind of arguments-
sewn at random, patched but gorgeous
with gold spokes smiling brilliantly
in the brightest morning sun
seven hobos left their togs between them
seven lovers – their lingerie, seven books – their leaves
but I got tangled up in explanations more drunk
than bacovia[1] on his way to the next pub
when it rains in my soul
greenery grows, lushly grows, grows
lava, champagne or foam in the dishwasher
when you pour detergent in a wrong spot,
grows, brings to the surface, grows
the most intimate faces I have imagined for myself
and which I’d bet it was me rewarding myself with a beer
I’d like to close my eyes, I’d like, I’d like to have cotton in my ears
but I am neither tied nor forced and am still able to see, witness, listen to
all sorts of guys who pretend to be me
one of them is crying shyly, another one is laughing loudly and yet another one is arrogantly giving life lessons
when it rains in my soul
I set fire to maps, draw the door for everyone
chopin hysterically abandons his piano, runs away
the keys follow him faithfully, frightening the crows on the plains
and all my reasoning argues
for his continued playing on the keyless piano
when it rains in my soul
I claim a huge distillery just for myself
travelling dozens of times through a still, rain
is reduced to all the rivers from which it has evaporated, lakes
feel in their nostrils the sweat of pike-chased fish
or the scent of the virgin maiden swimming with her clothes on
when it rains in my soul
I envy my friends because they know me so well,
me, the one who has no idea who he is, the one who wonders
when cursing rotten apples but applauding empty walnuts,
the one who says something just so it’s said,
the one who supports a point of view just because
those ideas have a right to exist too
the most intimate beliefs are like women
whom you don’t ask about their age
when it rains in my soul
the coffee cup fills up
the whiskey glass overflows
blaming occurs
or all sorts of useless irritation over abstract notions
such as the crowd, the world, mediocrity
when it rains in my soul
I expose the word behind the word,
the feeling behind the feeling
I go out naked in the main street
I trample on your opinions
when it rains in my soul
I simply listen to the rain
I stop harassing chopin, I stop mentioning him
at each roll of a droplet through the pipes
it’s raining water not pianos
it’s raining, just raining, that’s all
rain returns to the vast puddles of the neighbourhood
cherishing the subversive idea of flying again
[1] Romanian symbolist poet George Bacovia (17 September 1881 – 22 May 1957)
ROMANIAN ORIGINAL: Andrei Velea -Cand ploua, chopin
Andrei Velea (Galati, Romania) is a poet, novelist, dramatist and coordinator of different cultural Live and on-line events, book launches, TV and podcast talk-shows. His work merges the mundane approach of life with themes such as freedom, factuality, honour and eternal verities balancing his profession as an IT specialist with his creative writing.
Mihaela Cristescu studied Linguistics in Bucharest, Romania. Her Masters degree highlighted the Comparison Between Political Discourse in Romania and the United States of America.