Here the statues do not stay in their places. The Poet on
the high cliff gets off his plinth and walks along the esplanade to court the
Diva in front of the opera house. Sometimes the Great Leader can be found in
the city square. Other days his place has been taken by a stone lion or a
pyramid of old cannon balls.
On nights like summer, an orchestra plays in the casino. Peacock princes and sleek financiers study cards and cleavages under the glittering chandeliers. In the morning, the casino is open to the variable winds, each of which has a face and a personality. They blow through the glassless windows and rattle the doors, poorly secured by ropes and chains. They do not trouble the legions of rats. Birds fly with them, in formations that make ideographs, dropping feathered secrets over a sea that is neither black nor blue.
On nights like summer, an orchestra plays in the casino. Peacock princes and sleek financiers study cards and cleavages under the glittering chandeliers. In the morning, the casino is open to the variable winds, each of which has a face and a personality. They blow through the glassless windows and rattle the doors, poorly secured by ropes and chains. They do not trouble the legions of rats. Birds fly with them, in formations that make ideographs, dropping feathered secrets over a sea that is neither black nor blue.
Sometimes dreams require nothing more nor less of me than to write and create from them. A city where I wandered in dreams last night reminds me a little of Constanța, on the Black Sea coast of Romania, where I took these photos in October 2015.
I really recommend you to check out the works of Mihai Eminescu, the poet on the sculpture, if you didn't. He was a very interesting figure, and one of my favourites. He studied oriental philosophies and religions and in his poetry and other writings you can sense this search for truth and a touch of something magic he was carrying inside him.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Cristina. I keep running into statues of Eminescu, not only this one in Constanța, but in other parts of the world. When I was walking with a friend on the Rue des Écoles in Paris about my connections with Romania and the adventures I lead there, I felt that someone was leaning in close to us, listening to the conversation. I turned to find the statue of Eminescu by Ion Vlad. So yes, I will probably read more of his work.
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