Ph. D. Cornelia Păun Heinzel: 'the Shock' 1 Poem by Cornelia Paun

PH. D. CORNELIA PĂUN HEINZEL: 'THE SHOCK'
Translation: Iuliana Costache
A long heartbreaking whistle, like a desperate wailing penetrates the souls of those who wait on the wings of the boulevard in the center of Bucharest. Every bit of the body shivers. Cold thrills gradually go through you on every inch of the spine. If you were happy, quiet, dreamy, everything would colapse in a split second... It is, however, usual for the inhabitants who live nearby the main arteries of Bucharest. Fifteen minutes later you feel surrounded by a sound explosion. A fire truck, an ambulance or a police car... The intensity of the noise makes every bit of the human body to tremble. Maybe because of the painful, sharp sounds that mix together, that go through you instantly or by the cries that creep you out, that may predestinate something terrible? The sounds get more intense under the night's watch. At night, very few cars go by. However, some of the long car whistles will suddenly rip you out of the kingdom of dreams, to lead you to the real nightmares.
The telephone's ringing sounds seemed extremely harmonious, although it was the beggining of a frightening and real occurence.
- Carmen, is that you? the person from the telephone asks.
- Yes! I promptly responded.
- It's Isabela! I found a house worth buying! Actually, an apartment in a house! said the woman.
- Isn't it some kind of prank? I asked her, doubtfuly. It would be a real wonder for it to be alright! A notary told me he hasn't seen any good sale in the past few years! Some poor crooks only want to take the advance, but to remain in the house. I'm telling you without a shame, they have nowhere to go, means they won't sell you anything. But, mobs estate take the money for the house and don't give you anything in return. And you have no chance of getting it back!
- I hope it will be alright! Where are you? Isabela asks me.
- At the University! I told her. I just finished my classes.
- Get on a bus and I'll tell you where to get off! My husband has a lot of classes this semester and he can't come now. I want to see the house today. Please, come with me!
- Alright! I accepted without any further discussions.
And I didn't regret it at all. The tramway is surrounded misteriously by the history of the last two centuries, petrified chaotically in a strange picture.
Travelling with the 16 tramway is a journey on a boat in Archeon, the driver being a sad couchman.The road offers you the most fantastic experiences.
You barely walk o hundred metres and you enter another world, like a timeless Valey of Weep. A faded kingdom, like a grey painted cloth, the creation of a depressed artist. From the painted dark shades of the road to the blueish grey of the sky... Buildings built at the beggining of the century, almost colapsing on eachother, appear without any windows, with destroyed walls that let light on the brownish ancient bricks that once made up beautiful walls. Ruined....as if after a war or a natural disaster! They seem like images of the Beirut war! Through them, some new buildings appear: two intense blue iron glass giants support some banks and the office of a corporation! A new frightening skeleton of a building appears. But the feeling is similar to seeing a human skeleton. From area to area, fields of threadlike weeds spoil the ground... Among them, some weird looking plants blossom cheerfuly, each having an unique shape that only get simpler on the top of the plant, where they lean spirally, alligned in a circle. It's a returning of their begginging and at the same time a new start, the one of the magical flower. Because every flower has its miracle, if you watch it closely. Even if it's just a simple weed...
I notice that the tramway offers me an opportunity, which I wouldn't be having if I was just a simple pedestrian, through this course. Like an eternal seeker of beauty, I can admire through the piles of walls and dirt, the delicacy of the lacy details seen over the elliptical arches. I let myself enchanted by the mistery of the cold white marble statues, which eclipses with superiority on the small walls of the buildings, making the scenery look abstract. As a pedestrian, I believe I wouldn't be as calm watching the roman's soldier stone sword who looked ready to engage on a battle, protecting a building in front of me, surrounded by walls who sustain themselves through a wonder, because they could fly over me anytime. I would be disturbed by the wonderful head of the eternal Venus, suspended on the arch of a balcony, because it could throw me anytime, as a simple mortal, on other lands, out of the grey shadows kingdom... Are there any other strange places besides the one I walk through now?
It's like I'm in a tunel of time, in which I've been thrown instantly, in the first century Bucharest, however being fully conscious of the present. I think that, for the extreme sensations amateurs from the Occident it would be unique. But for us, who have this permanently, this kind of experience is usual, meaningless.
There's a little park in the middle of it, a fire with orange-redish flames, surrounded by strange figures: A Hercules of our times and these places and some other miserable, ragged characters, with faces showing only evil smiles and mean eyes, like ripped out of Dickens novels...whom you'd never like to meet face to face.
Very few estates are however renovated. Those who may have been owned by an asociation or a corporation...These buildings are the most shocking ones, because of the mix-up between modern art and antique architectures.

My eyes excited look is headed towards the fascinating architecture of the building that stands in front of me. I try to savour every little detail about it... My eyes go through this infinty of curvaceous figures, with their small pictures carved inside of them, the delicate columns that make perfect spheres all around. My iris becomes the centre of it all so I could easily analyze and calculate every inch on every surface. The moment has become a temporary universe and it flows just as the golden sand falls softly through the hourglass. However, you cannot lay in this eternal world forever... The cold name that stands vaguely above the wall awakens your eyes: „Social Store". Although, on the left stands a little emerald castle which delightens your eyes. So now, you are entirely hypnotized by the details, the lining of each marble figures. But, the dreamy castle is soon turned into a nightmare because of the same bold ice sign above the castle: „Shop - WEAPONS and AMMUNITION"!
I then look and wonder about all the passengers in the tramway, perfectly syncronized with the dull look from outside. With their clothes, with their thoughts… They all look empty. They all float in the same eternal ocean of personal thoughts, of their usual daily problems as if everything around was usual, normal. The world from outside means nothing to them…