http://therealvirtuality.
Two Poems by Emilia Frinculeasa
 |
| Vlad Castle by E. Frinculeasa |
Transylvanian Ballad
in the midst of night,
at the quiet bottom
of the lonesome mountain,
dropped from the wings
of the gentle breeze,
a barn owl’s hoot
stabs the thick darkness
right through its heart
the way a sharp lightening
hits the frozen ground
in the late of autumn.
unheard infant’s shrieks,
all numbed and forgotten,
haunt the whereabouts
of the missing hound
lured by scents of blood
from the greenwood sight
vanished like a cloud
when the storm is done
no trace to be found
never found alive
later than his wanderings.
from a safe distance,
the moon-howling echoes
give a piercing notice
of the new life’s courses
secretly bestowing
the surmised return
of the sleepless hunter
with a deadly thirst
from his awful curses.
in front of his temples
seduced by his flare
the two rowing columns
of young, silent pines
lean down, one-by-one
in a pitch-black courtesy
with the pristine heath
following behind.
the long pebble trail,
overgrown and cold,
covered in his scent
and the pine needles
urge my hasty steps
to the same old place
of no real escape
and decrepit home
to the savage folks
who had their own souls
forever estranged.
what is more, once more,
he’ll refuse to grow old
and from time to time,
dry cries will be born inside
his Carpathian castle,
summoned by the flesh,
induced by flash floods.
hereby, at his doorstep,
his long-denied burning,
all his broken trust,
wicked games of lust,
caged inside this fortress,
the pretend death coffin,
whose transparent vault
both quenches and chains
my loyal persistence
with the fatal promise
of eternal love,
are fully accepted.
any day or night now,
free from the past drought,
with the worst of both
tempted by desire,
in this sinful dungeon
a cold, ivory sharpness
much older than fire,
will enable fate
to redeem the best
of our damned romance,
and its preordained,
much too vain existence
up the mountain top.
-------------------------------
Inducement
“I
shall drink from thy holly springs”
Voluptuous
immortals
Go
and behold them, in the dark forest,
Moon-bathing
their marble skin,
Pagan
maidens, dancing in circles,
Burning
the grass, the leaves,
The
ground under the soles of their feet
Their
fair hair blowing with the night wind.
O,
virgin fairies, who haunt away my sleep,
Come,
grant a count his ultimate wish!
So
soon, your burning silhouettes shall cross
These
rocky slopes to quench my thirst.
Your
eyes by my eyes have been cursed,
They
are my candles now- ready to spread
Their
undying, whispering oaths around.
My
kiss is able to cleave the deep darkness
into
thin slices of silence and painless tears,
 |
| Transylvania |
Your
spirit is about to split the murmur of living
into
legible birthmarks and heart poetry.
Have
no fear, the thirsty moors and arid marshes
Won't
reclaim the dead’s autumnal wake
They
too absorb your youth and faith,
and
drown your prayers in their swamps,
but
turn your earthly nightmares into hope
so
that, tomorrow, a crimson ritual of love
shall
be performed inside our timeless souls.
Claudia-Emilia Frinculeasa was born on October 8th, 1977, in a small mountain town located in the south-eastern part of Romania. She graduated from the Faculty of Letters and Science of the University of Ploiesti in 1999. As a student, she wrote several articles and interviews for the university magazine, “Coloane”, where she had her poetic debut printed in 1998.
A teacher of English at “Radu Vladescu” Theoretical High School for 16 years, she lives in Nehoiu town, 117 km away from Bran Castle, the literary residence of Count Dracula, inspired by Vlad the Impaler, a ruler of modern-day Transylvania in the 1400s.
She likes expressing herself in English and reading poetry.
