Original Romanian poem translated to English: Faces that have hardened, minds that have curdled, parts and spares for the shift, a shift in the selfsame shift, the night shift, a night of the love receding, a night of the numbness spreading, and the weariness of the ugly old lie in the blood of the ground under us, water that you went and sank your claws into, vapor that you went and hid your face in, you and all your kind. Poisoned breath of yours has sung every wakeful mind to sleep. You perverted all their dreams, fear has locked them stiff and still, waves on waves have struck them deaf while weaving through the sky at night the bars and the bands and the broadcasts, all of it for the future’s good. From between the psychotic fences the future comes crying. I see it spin faster than light can follow, overtaking minds too clever and brains left alive. A titan, it turns its spirals of dying, double helix of plastic, spelled out dry and scholastic to the neurons alive. In the whirlpools of starlight it’s hiding whole planets. Beneath somber lasers the shadows of heaven drill their holes in the ground. To capture a shadow, a peeling of sunlight, of the Almighty who’s dying, humans on humans are waging war. On screens you are watching, under a microscope’s lenses, viruses, human, still they are singing on airwaves alive.
