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Mircea Ivanescu (March 26, 1931 – July 21, 2011) was a Romanian poet, writer and translator, and a forerunner of Romanian postmodernism, which was characteristic of the 1980s. His translations from global literature into Romanian include James Joyce, Franz Kafka, and F. Scott Fitzgerald.
Prolific poet, debuting with Lines in 1968, Ivanescu has published almost every two years a new volume during four decades. His lyrics, often depicting a day-to-day I disguised as "mopete" (an anagram of "poet" and "poem" it was thought, but the poet himself denied it in an interview), has rehabilitated narrativity in Romanian poetry in the seventies, echoing American post-war major poets. He won the Mihai Eminescu Poetry Prize (1998) and was proposed by Romanian Professional Writers Association for Nobel Prize in 1999.
the introduction of vasilescu's father's friend
Mopete went to the theatre today. he took
a girl, and vasilescu’s father’s friend saw him—called hello
to him, too—mopete threw a meaningful, if too
obvious glance at the girl beside him, and with a fixed look
walked right by. the play proved to be of great interest.
the girl at mopete’s side—she wasn’t young nefa—listened
totally absorbed. mopete said to himself—now he’ll have turned
round to look at you—and put on an earnest
expression. he pretended to be engrossed by the play. then a
while later, the girl cocked her head and spied
upon mopete, as if with wonderment (how shrewd
these girls are, mopete told himself). like an antenna
in a raised position, mopete strove to hear everything the girl thought
as she sat beside him. vasilescu’s father’s friend laughed.
(translated by Adam J. Sorkin and Lidia Vianu)
Holiday morning (1970), she used to wake up very early
to see the sun rise. I was sleeping - and in my sleep
I was hearing her getting up, smoking or reading
and she was turning the pages so quickly that I was sure
I was sleeping between each of them.
in the beginning, she used to invite me, then she didn’t ask for my company.
she walked alone, somewhere in the wood - with a book
or just like that, alone, standing still, the eyes closed
under the young sun. I was sleeping. it was only later I was going
out to look for her. Sometimes she used to smile when seeing me
other times she kept sober.
(translated by Georgia I.)
- Versuri (EPL, 1968)
- Poeme (Eminescu, 1970)
- Poesii (Cartea Românească, 1970)
- Alte versuri (Eminescu, 1972)
- Poem (Cartea Românească, 1973)
- Alte poeme (Albatros, 1973)
- Amintiri (Cartea Românească, 1973)
- Alte poesii (Dacia, 1976)
- Poesii nouă (Dacia, 1982)
- Poeme nouă (Cartea Românească, 1983)
- Alte poeme nouă (Cartea Românească 1986)
- Versuri vechi, nouă (Eminescu, 1988)
- Poeme alese (1966–1989)
- Poeme vechi, nouă (Cartea Românească, 1989)
- Versuri (Eminescu, 1996)
- Poezii (Vitruviu, 1997)
- Poesii vechi şi nouă, antologie (Minerva, 1999)