Alternativa / The alternative

Alternativa

e o frică care se regenerează
a locurilor în care încă nu am fost
dar vreau să ajung

în fiecare toamnă
mă îmbrac mult prea subțire
aerul rece
mă percheziționează,
dă din cap nemulțumit,
și mă întoarce din drum

încă pot să văd cum
îmi arunc toate hainele pe un câmp
necunoscut
departe
foarte departe
de locul unde am crescut,
intrând într-o altă casă,
vorbind într-o altă limbă,
zâmbindu-mi pentru c-am avut un plan mai bun

(octombrie.2011)

The alternative

there’s a fear that keeps returning
tied to the places where I have not yet been
but long to arrive at

each autumn
I dress far too lightly
the cold air
searches me thoroughly,
shakes its head in disapproval,
and sends me back home

I can still see myself
throwing all my clothes
across an unknown distant field
so far away
from where I grew up
stepping into another house
speaking in another tongue
smiling to myself, because I’d found a better plan

(august 2025)

This poem right here feels now, 14 years later so raw…it’s like an oracle’s prophecy. Maybe I should’ve renamed it “The Oracle”.

However it’s funny to re-read it now. Because since 2011, I did throw my clothes across an unknown distant field, I have stepped into so many different homes, speaking in a different tongue. My plan (although only half planned) did turn out in certain ways to be better. But there’s something about the last line that doesn’t quite fit.

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