THE ANTS’ ROAD

THE PROLOGUE OF THE BALLAD OF DANIEL BĂNULESCU

AND WHEN SUMMER COMES TO AN END

05. It’s way too late to acquire a taste for acacia
20. What is it all these women want from me
06. ’Twas only now, in her old age
21. A foggy winter
07. This sadness is not mine
08. Granddad used to tell us how
19. The old Gypsy woman stands up
09. Now I know I was born out of the belly
23. Oh the glamour of being the visceral type
10. Oh, the bellies we’re shut in
01. My mother is afraid of loneliness
11. She was reeking of booze from afar
02. Every so often my kitchen becomes a stage
12. My upstairs neighbour’s cough
03. I’m coming over, Grandma
13. Lay your hand on my forehead
04. The yard teeming with black chickens
22. I switch off the light and lie down on the bed

THE POEM OF THE ALCOHOLICS
THE FIGHT
GLASS
EMBODIMENT OF THE REAL THROUGH FORGETTING
AT THE TABLE BY THE WINDOW

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