It was a kind reminder of a Saint’s day
moved too soon in the life after life
where flowers never wither, and rivers are always fresh,
and the human heart is forever coherent.
John has not killed any dreadful dragons
still, in a humble sacrifice
he has blessed others and has made possible the glory
of the true Life.
I have found these faint memories
in the depths of an imaginary drawer
with fields of gold tenderly waving in the wind
like the breath of my father on his birthday.
Dedicated to my father, John, born on St. John’s day, June 24th.
90 words, Adela Galasiu, 2016
What does it have to do with that fact that I broke it or not? It has. Something tells me strongly that it has.
Persistent, but in the background. I understand too well – better and better as the
long confrontation goes forward with bandaged gloves – that now will be taken the decision, that from now all will be triggered. And the devilish thing is that no matter how I toss and turn I still remain trapped. Wether the path of truth or the fog of slipping in futility, I am still lost, I will still have to admit it. Just that I am more tempted by and it seams more mercyful on the path of oblivion, the path of confusion, where all are equal, and nonsensical and lack importance.
Lost? Ah! No. Look as from the depths of Panteleimon and Cluceresa – the
slum and the village – suddenly dawns another thought, a third solution.
Ah! no, not the humility of giving in comes from the devil. Around me there’s not fog, in me no delirium: I am in full reality, what I see is true. Panteleimon and Clucereasa whisper to me: – just like great scholl colleagues that whisper the answer precisely: why get caught by phantasmagoria? Come take your senses. Yes, she is. Yes, all is true. To be calm and cynical and skilful. Repeat after me : skilful. Yes, it exists, there is an unthinkable third solution. Your duty this very moment is to be in a vulgar way calm , skilful, careless. Be a peasant, you little jew. Be as coming out of the slum. Old Sickness, who was robbed by the maid; Old Feud that was to be deceived by the neighbor; Old John that is not mislead by his wife; Uncle Pandele that tangles the whole world. I am not on the Venusberg and this is not the Valpurgia night. I am in a Security Investigation office, on the Plevnei road (needless, putting me dark glasses, you drove me round and round in the barracks yard of Malmaison), and this is T., who passed on their side … Why? How is that? No way! Why, I don’t know and do not care. And as for the impossibility, well look, it’s possible. Let me not be scholastic, oil freezes, whatever Aristotle says.
The glass? Of course I did it. Of course I broke it. (An awkward gesture and how
ashamed I felt. Ah, shards bring luck only in German.) But my only duty now is to be calm, smart and stubborn. Tough. Headstrong. Crabby. Laconic. Miffed.
The third solution: Not to recognize that I broke it, nor to let myself caught in dizziness.
Nor the stupidity of fear, neither the spell of dizziness. But something else: the lie. The peaceful and skilful lie.
This remains for me, that’s the third way; to be clever peasant and
cunning gossiper. Calm and Steadfast. At their height. Hers and theirs. Not above. I don’t remember, point and end of story. And I do not know. And I am quiet. And speechless. I do not admit. I do not give up. I don’t know, sir. I do not remember anything. Like a stupid goat. Neither in bed, nor under the bed. Neither the carriage nor in the cart. Like the beans on Easter day. Like old Lache at the fair: does not negociate any dime; like old Simache in court: he does not allow others to block him. Like old Gruia at the bargain: no , no and again no.
– to be continued
translation: memyselfandela, 2012
Photograpy: Adela Galasiu
Locations: Sibiu, Sighisoara, Cluj Napoca, Cartisoara, Ploiesti, Romania.
“Patience, patience, patience… ” Elder Cleopa
Elder Cleopa was one of the most beloved Romanian Orthodox Elder Fathers, he is considered to be a modern Saint.
Born in a very poor family, he became a monk and dedicated all his life to faith. He spent more than five years in the desert and was close to many monks living secluded in the desert or in the Sinai Mountain or in Mount Athos. He became confessor for the entire community and gave spiritual guidance to both monks and lay people for more than 34 years.
It is said that, just like other Elders, Father Cleopa had met and faught many times the devil. He was very kind, patient and he greeted all the people with the same unique expression “May Heaven Eat You!!!!”
In the first video, teaching about faith and patience he used to say:
” And I learned from Father Vicentie:
– Patience, patience, patience, patience, patience, patience, patience… and when it seams to you that it’s finished, you start again from the beginining and again: Patience, patience, patience, patience…
And I, not having better things to do, I asked:
– For how long we must be patient, father?
– Not till the weeding time!!!!! This is not what the Gospel sais. The one that will be patient till the end, that one will be saved”
In the second video Elder Cleopa talks about Prayer.
This post is dedicated to all those who go through hardship, pain and problems, but also to the wonderful souls that pray for us all every day. In Romania, Russia, Serbia, Greece there are many unknown Christian Orthodox monks and nuns that dedicate their whole life to God and prayer for all people. They give their life and energy for this world for which they are dead.
“Oh Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on us sinners.”