Summer 1995 • Vol. XVII No. 3/4 European VoicesJuly 1, 1995 |

Saint Anthony

            Translated from the Rumanian                   by Bruce Weigl   From the stars the hand of a child throws cherries at us. From the lake the hand of a child throws strawberries at us. From the church bells the hand of a child throws dew at us. The body of the book becomes young again and speaks. From the mountain of olives, an echo. From the ship of the seven sleepers, a whisper.What a waste of eyes, thoughts, arms, in this world. Have pity on us, you with a clay body like ours, rotting in the ground. You among the dead with your living tongue. You who keep tenderness alive in your arms, your tongue turned into the word, preaching to the fish the lesson of light. The star of Spain, the diamond of poverty called you. You who hold pity in your arms and leave one ray of your aura over our bowed heads.

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By Liliana Ursu, translated by Bruce Weigl

            Translated from the Rumanian                   by Bruce Weigl   From the stars the hand of a child throws cherries at us. From the lake the hand of a child throws strawberries […]

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By Liliana Ursu, translated by Bruce Weigl

            Translated from the Rumanian                   by Bruce Weigl   From the stars the hand of a child throws cherries at us. From the lake the hand of a child throws strawberries […]

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