4
There was a disheveled asteroid
The galactic barber wasn’t late
to come out
“Maybe the strength is in this hair”
he thought and cut it off
“The strength is in this hair”
and he pulled out the hair
with the tweezers
the bald-headed barber.
(Era un asteroid ciufulit
Frizerul galactic n-a intarziat
sa apara
“Poate puterea lui sta in par”
gandi si-l tunse chilug
“Puterea lui sta in par”
si-i smulse firele
cu penseta
frizerul cel chel)
I wrote in 1980s the poem above, attributed to Spaceman Sazartinus,
as a metaphorical explanation to the psychology of the
communist leading class.
Poor dictators,
they needed to breathe joyous popular unanimity…
I remember Tarmia,
the planets of high spirits,
where I hardly escaped from.
The inhabitants
were permanently celebrating
the fact of existence
and offered me parts
in this grand game.
I was in a hurry,
so I didn’t risk to sink
in the labyrinth of joy.
Then
- lightning and chain -
the zonal law interfered:
I refused the entertainment,
I was an offender.
(Imi amintesc de Tarmia,
planeta a bunei dispozitii,
de unde cu greu m-am salvat.
Locuitorii ei
sarbatoreau intr-una
faptul existentei
si-mi ofereau roluri si mie
in jocurile lor.
Ma grabeam,
asa ca n-am riscat afundarea
in labirintul veseliei.
Dar a intervenit apoi
- fulger inlantuitor -
legea zonala:
refuzasem sa ma distrez,
eram un infractor.)
But finally, the Romanian people made a Revolution
against communism in 1989, December 16-22. It was a bloody Revolution,
and in those days I saw, on the streets of Bucharest, people shouting:
“We’ll die and we’ll be free!”
Many of them were killed - a tragic price for freedom -, but the dictator
and his camarilla were defeated. (After that, the Romanians have found a lot
of other problems in returning to democracy after over 40 years of dictatorship,
but this “rebirth” is another story.)
Grateful to SF culture
(one of my best friends under communist dictatorship),
I dedicate this Spaceman Sazartinus series in Star*Line
(as I said, selected from my 1995 English anthology) to they who died
for freedom in Romania and in the world. And I wish to end it
(even if I hope that, from time to time, to return to this character)
with an optimistic text that I composed in 1984,
in which I anticipated through Spaceman Sazartinus’ Diary
that communist dictatorship would be
defeated by the wish of the people in Romania (that means,
“translated” into this SF poem, that the force of the darkness
will be defeated by the force of the light).
“Hey, my friend, wait for me!”-
shouted my mate Papalardi
from the fifth planet.
He wanted to hunt Lucichero -
the space wolf
and the light eater.
(Everyday the beast was gulping
a few rays,
while the artificial suns
we had built
to lure him
didn’t tempt him at all.)
I was a little afraid of Lucichero,
he was very dangerous,
so I descended
in time…
(though I anticipated that
Papalardi will look for me.)
I stopped and looked at me
and laughed:
I became a baby again!
“Hey, my friend!”-
Papalardi suddenly shouted
from the cradle.
(He had colored diapers
and his feeding bottle
had slipped from his mouth.)
“Do you know that
a day after tomorrow
Lucichero swallowed a knotty ray
which stuck in his throat
and he had a fatal shock?”
(“Hei, amice, asteapta-ma!”-
imi striga colaboratorul Papalardi
tocmai de pe Planeta A Cincea.
Voia sa-l vanam pe Lucichero,
lupul de spatiu
care se hranea cu lumina.
(In fiecare zi ne inghitea
cateva raze,
iar sorii artificiali
pe care ii construisem
spre a-l amagi,
nu-l tentau.)
Ma cam temeam de Lucichero,
era foarte periculos,
asa incat am coborat nitel
prin timp
(desi anticipam ca Papalardi
o sa ma caute.)
M-am oprit, m-am privit
si mi-a venit sa rad:
redevenisem un copilas.
“Hei, amice!”-
imi striga
din leagan Papalardi
(avea scutece colorate
si scapase biberonul
din gura).
“Stii ca Lucichero a inghitit
poimaine
o raza gloduroasa
care i-a stat in gat
si a facut infarct?”)