Bones

The dead bodies abandon the catacombs,
rising to the surface,
gradually, on their own bones,
as if they would come back to life.

poem by Andrei Langa, translated by Dan Costinaş
Added by Dan Costinaş
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Photosynthesis

If you were to exhale oxygen
along with all the plants
by the archaic mouth of photosynthesis,
the whole earth would smell of ozone.

This happens before the rain,
when the rebel raindrops army marches
and the odd dust bounces around.

poem by Andrei Langa, translated by Dan Costinaş
Added by Dan Costinaş
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The Black Hole

First and foremost humans will disappear
(the blind ones being the last to leave),
then the other dumb creatures and everyday things
will be taken to pieces
and the emptiness will swallow
all this farrago together, explicitly
The black hole of the approaching galaxy.

We will meet again beyond the vortex
(and the blind ones being the last to appear),
where things will recover their symmetry,
and every man or creature
will be restored, like in a puzzle game,
but they will have no substance anymore
and be left forever with no funeration.

poem by Andrei Langa, translated by Dan Costinaş
Added by Dan Costinaş
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