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    A Wheel in the Garden
    A Wheel in the Garden
    A Wheel in the Garden
    Ebook198 pages45 minutes

    A Wheel in the Garden

    By Cristina-Monica Moldoveanu

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    About this ebook

    A poetic journey, telling stories about life and death. Many poems about important events or about significant people in my life. Real facts and real feelings rearranged in different poetic constructions.
    These 88 poems were originally written by me in Romanian, then translated by me in English.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCristina-Monica Moldoveanu
    Release dateMay 24, 2012
    ISBN9781476221953
    A Wheel in the Garden
    Author

    Cristina-Monica Moldoveanu

    I began to write poems in childhood, then, after a scientific education, I restarted to write poems when I was 36 (in 2007) and then haiku in 2010. I also translated some of my poems in English.My blog on Goodreads:https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8093553.Cristina_Monica_Moldoveanu/blog

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      Book preview

      A Wheel in the Garden - Cristina-Monica Moldoveanu

      In this collection I selected poems from my own translations into English for my poems written in Romanian. When I think about what I tried to express all this time I can say that my poems are mostly about feelings of belonging or longing, about losses in my life or the way that human nature is reflected in the natural world and is influenced in return by natural events. This is an autobiographical poetic journey. Thanks for reading and traveling inside my feelings.

      Table of Contents

      Introduction

      Three Wells

      The Staircase

      Candle Thread

      The Suitcase

      The Thief

      The Quince

      Roads

      Mohair Yarn

      Strings

      Over Stones

      Alternate Pictures

      White Cross

      Spring Waters

      Sweet Lily Scent

      Seagulls

      The Operation

      The Dreams Laundry

      Harvest Moon

      Pink

      Between Two Rains

      Weighing My Shadow

      Throwing Myself on the Closed Window

      Pedestrian Passage

      The Orphan

      Windy Night

      Faint Colors

      The Game Stake

      Golden

      The Main Road

      Vermilion

      End of a Story

      Germination

      Weaknesses

      Adjustment Spasm

      Above the Stars

      A Pattern for Silence

      Weaponless Guards

      Too Much Light

      Anamnesis

      Cuckoo Voice

      State of Aggregation

      Autumn Carol

      Last Wedding

      Odissey Fragment

      Sponge

      Top of the Ice

      Belated Flight

      Winter Train

      Evergreen Rivers

      Scenery

      Autumn Nostalgia

      Riverain

      The Other Shore

      Castaway

      Rain Child

      Over the Year

      Silence

      Ropes for Hopes

      Plaster Statues

      Scorching

      Vagrant Song

      A Cathedral, in Autumn

      Hardcover

      Altruism

      Cockchafer

      Caryatid

      Right in the Middle

      Wind Whispers

      The Wind Has a Bitter Cherry Taste

      Pink Cameo

      Teardrops

      Cold Spring

      Crescendo

      Word of Freedom

      Reaching Out

      Be Aware

      Roots

      Magnetic North

      All Infants Have Blue Eyes

      Just Another Vision

      Refrains

      Skyward Fiddler

      Snow on the Grate

      The Bread

      Rituals

      Clockwise

      Nocturnal

      Watercolor

      I. STORY TIME

      In the first part of this poetry collection I gathered poems that tell a story. Stories based on real stories from my life, happening in real places from childhood until now. A few of them picture another world, mirroring my feelings, but always inspired by true facts.

      Three Wells

      Sadness was sticking on my smile like milk skin,

      a birch in the street was dying since spring,

      top tall and upright branches were throbbing white and dry

      over the leaves still green below,

      women were turning around their prams with babies.

      I was crying mostly with my left eye

      feeling pain in the eye that couldn’t cry,

      I had to go on my way

      In our house from between three wells

      waters didn’t raise anymore in the basement,

      the oil got thicker in the old lamp,

      some stray flies slipped inside that glass

      attracted by choking pears falling on the roof

      for fifty years,

      silence gathered in the dust outdoors,

      nests stayed empty in the stable

      sprinkled with whitewash, without cobwebs

      The next day it must have been raining,

      my grandfather had a red moon behind him,

      the very first in my life, it could have been in September,

      his stories were multiplying,

      I was throwing them one by one in my mind,

      seeds hidden in watermelon slices,

      staring at that moon’s core before coming back

      from far away even farther

      where the birch’s cry disappears

      like an orphan young swallow

      home

      The Staircase

      the spiral stairs banister is rusty

      spiders are hidden in the corners

      pigeons hustle and bustle can be heard in the attic

      the old plaster smelling like sour cabbage

      loses stripe after stripe absorbing autumn mist

      through round and small windows

      the old man fell asleep early

      he played all day long with lotto pieces

      counting and shuffling them many times

      now he cannot make the difference

      between a white and a red poppy on the lapel

      the old

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