Invocand ploaia / Calling down the rain

Zile fierbinti... Soare torid, verde parjolit, albastru intens. Si liniste. Adapostite cine stie unde, pasarile si-au oprit cantul. Si vantul bataia.
Precum odinioara, cand eram copil, m-am trezit inganand incet "Paparuda, ruda / Vino de ne uda..."

Invocand ploaia. Sa ne ude, sa ne curete, sa ne creasca.

Burning days. Torrid sun, scorched green, deep blue. And quietness. Sheltered who knows where, the birds had stopped singing. And the wind had stopped his blowing.
Forgotten incantation since I was a child, I found myself softly humming "Paparuda, ruda / Vino de ne uda..."

Calling down the rain. To water us, to purge us, to grow us.

... si o inedita versiune a cantecului Paparudei, din Moldova, in interpretarea surorilor Osoianu.

... and an original version of a Paparuda song (Drought ritual), from Moldavia area, performed by the Osoianu Sisters.

somewhere, over the rainbow...

uneori, in cele mai intunecate momente ale vietii noastre, frumosul se incapataneaza sa iasa la suprafata. cand totul pare pierdut si fara iesire, iar lucrurile isi pierd rostul,  ceva din noi reuseste sa-si strecoare spre inafara lumina.

sa fie doar o compensatie?.. sa fie, poate, expresia efortului de-a ne pastra luciditatea, un mod de a ne “arde” si depasi  nevroza?... 

ori mai degraba oglinda pe care Sinele ne-o aseaza in fata, pentru a vedea ca suntem mai mult decat pierderea, durerea si intunericul? ca suntem, nu o temnita, ci campul verde ce transforma suferinta-n flori si lacrimile-n curcubeu…

sometimes, in our darkest times, beauty grimly fights to come to grass. when all seems lost and helpless and things become meaningless, there’s always something inside of us sliding out its light.  

is it just a compensation?... is it, maybe, an expression of the effort to keep our mind in one place, a way to “burn” and overcome our neurosis?...

or rather a mirror, laid in front of our eyes by the Self, for us to see that we are more than loss, pain and darkness put together? that we are not a prison, but the green field who turns suffering into flowers and tears into rainbow…