Today, I have realized on my own cold and sweaty skin how does it feel like to cover your eyes and, at the same time, read poetry. I have discovered and lived the secret of eternal breathing. I felt the breeze of a warm and kind look, as well as a firm and parental handshake. All of these in a tear. All of these in front of a poem.
All of these in front of a man, dead since 1996.
It’s not a shame to be born stupid. It’s a shame to die stupid.
Marin Sorescu was born in a family of farmworkers in Bulzești, Dolj County. He learned all the way to the top, having his final education at the “Alexandru Ioan Cuza” University of Iași. He obtained his degree in modern languages in 1960. After 4 years, his inspiration and creativity circulated like a flu among critics, when his first book, a collection of parodies called Singur printre poeți (“Alone Among Poets”) hit the national poetry stage back in 1964.
This said, Sorescu had his debut in literature when he was 28, and has written, since then, 28 volumes of poetry. He won 6 Romanian Writers’ Union prizes for his poetry, drama and literary criticism, and a lot of other prizes, both national and international. After he died of cirrhosis and hepatitis, 15 drafts of poetry, drama and prose were left to see the light of the day postmortem.
Just as I can’t give up smoking because I don’t smoke, I can’t give up writing because I have no talent.
Sorescu’s poetry is just plain beautiful. I don’t think an exact word to define it has been created yet. It’s simple, yet mind blowing. He talks about death and smiles like a child at the same time.
His garden of thoughts is a labyrinth, and his Drama shows it perfectly. The Trilogy of drama Setea Muntelui de Sare (“The Thirst of the Salt Mountain”) gives readers the possibility to think and relive impactful moments lived by people that didn’t even exist, in absurd, yet crucial realities.
…
All of these in front of a man, alive since 1936.
M-am obișnuit


turn off by day
always holds the horizon of the sea
in the magic of a desperate look.
What had to be seen, I’ve seen!
Carefully pull down these thin shutters
Over my tired eyes.
and blooming acacias.