CORNELIA PAUN HEINZEL este
scriitoarea care cu sensibilitate și realism întregește cu arta sa literară
spiritualitatea culturală românească
Narațiunea în proza scriitoarei Cornelia Păun Heinzel este prezentată la
persoana a treia, generând obiectivitate și detașare, o aparentă neimplicare,
ca aceea a unui reportaj. Modul personajelor de a gândi și a se manifesta,
ambianța în care se manifestă, faptele relevante care le caracterizează, ascund
fațetele multiple ale realității dincolo de care resimți extrem de subtil
implicarea autoarei, chiar o anume feminitate.
Dragoste de Cernăuți, deși
este o povestire, ne pare fi un roman, desigur un micro roman, fiind una dintre
puținele proze din literatura română dedicată zonei Cernăuțiului ce era parte a
regatului Moldovei condus de Ștefan cel Mare, teritoriu străvechi al românilor
moldoveni, acum aflat în componența Ucrainei.
Dragoste
de Cernăuți este o povestire emoționantă, fără înflorituri de stil inutile,
creația unui scriitor matur care aduce trecutul în prezent, o privire
nostalgică asupra unei părți din spiritualitatea românească.
Marian Gherman - în Revista de Literatură Română
El prólogo
Las propuestas narrativas de la
autora tienen una característica común cual es la de dar una visión concisa,
profunda e intensa de la realidad. Una realidad que la autora describe de
manera elegante y pormenorizada, sumiendo al lector en el imaginario necesario
para comprender de manera “casi real” la acción o trama de sus textos.
Otra de las características que se desprende de su lectura es el grado de
conocimiento que se deduce tiene sobre aquello que pretende trasmitir, ello
juega en beneficio del lector ya que en ningún momento este se siente perdido
en mitad de textos, antes al contrario, la autora “atrapa” al lector desde la
primera línea de relato, lo cual es muy de agradecer logrando de manera
sencilla, lo cuál no es nada fácil, captar la atención del lector.
En las propuestas leídas: “El shock”,
“Universidad-Cuerpo Y”, “Entre dos mundos” y “El amor de Cernauti”, sigue la
estructura clásica del relato/cuento: “trama,
nudo y desenlace”, logrando contextualizar y recrear escenas verosímiles
cargadas de coherencia, sabiendo hacer a modo de sutíl prólogo en uno de ellos,
un guiño a los clásicos (V. Hugo y Dante, en sus infiernos terrenales) “las
dudas ante la inminente compra de una vivienda”, “los miedos (externos e internos) a los que se tiene que ir enfrentado
el hombre”, etc. Es por ello que la propuesta narrativa va logrando acaparar
la atención del lector quien, ávido de conocer más, va – de alguna manera-
formando parte del relato en tanto en cuanto va re-conociendo a sus personajes, o mejor aún, va viendo en ellos una
prolongación de si mismo.
Otras características de la obra de Paún que la hacen especialmente
atractiva son: la intensidad de sus
textos, ricos en matices y figuras metafóricas: “… mi mirada busca con avidez ansiosa este abismo del paraíso de las
intersecciones entre las delicadas
arcadas elípticas, con las maravillosas vías parabólicas, de las frágiles
columnas hiperbólicas sobre las cuales dominan, de un lugar a otro, esferas
perfectas… “(extraído del relato El Shock) y la tensión, antes citada, capaz de lograr el interés del lector
consiguiendo casi aislarlo de su micro mundo.
El éxito, entendiendo por tal la aceptación y valoración positiva del
lector, de todo relato -como de alguna manera viene a decir Cortázar- radica en
que debe ser antes vivido, sentido e interiorizado por el propio autor. Es él
quién hace o debe hacer o convertir las cosas ordinarias en aventuras
extraordinarias capaces de abstraer la atención de los lectores. Ahí radica la
notoriedad y el atractivo literario de estas propuestas.
“ El Shock“ : La autora sumerge al lector en el siempre farragoso
mundo que supone la adquisición de una vivienda. Con una trama sencilla, la
autora va desgranando los entresijos de la operación.
Desde el inicio de la narración la autora contextualiza la escena
sabiamente y para ello no duda en recurrir a los grandes del género: V. Hugo y
Dante, citando los mundos a los que el hombre, sin conocer, se va enfrentando a
la vez que convirtiendo en presa y victima de todos ellos.
En “El Shock“ la autora sabe “dibujar” los infiernos terrenales de los que el hombre no puede escapar. Los
infiernos terrenales que nos atrapan
física y emocionalmente.
En definitiva, un magnifico relato, con el suspense propio de la escena que
de manera brillante califica la autora como “color gris” en su propia trama.
“Universidad-Cuerpo Y“ : La autora narra la trágica vivencia de
Camelia en su primera experiencia de una excursión a la montaña acompañada de
unos amigos.
La protagonista, lejos de “ampararse” en el miedo, propio por otra parte
dada la inexperiencia, busca razones para hacer de la dureza de la prueba algo
realmente positivo.
Queda patente el amor y la sensibilidad del trato hacía su madre y la
fortaleza de sus ideas frente a la “seguramente apetecible” proposición del
médico la noche anterior al accidente.
“Entre dos mundos“ : En
este relato, la protagonista vive los momentos entrelazando “realidades”.
Camelia tiene una vida interior grande y rica en experiencias y conocimientos
de la que se siente orgullosa; pero esa misma fuerza moral e intelectual
también tiene su lado negativo, por ejemplo el llevado al plano de la amistad
con otras chicas. Su experiencia le había demostrado la envidia que generaba,
lo que felizmente para nuestra protagonista deja de ser así cuando conoció a
Joana descubriendo que la palabra envidia se había cambiando por la de
admiración.
Camelia entra en la “revolución” sumida en el pensamiento y la confirmación
que todas las personas inteligentes que conocía, también lo eran buenas y
generosas.
“El amor de Cernauti“ : Una
bellísima historia de amor la de Elisa y Nicolás, donde el lector disfrutará
con la maravillosa aptitud y actitud descriptiva de la autora.
A destacar el realismo narrativo con que la autora va relatando las
vivencias de las personas.
Sus protagonistas, dos mundos amantes de la cultura y la belleza que quedan
unidos definitivamente para siempre quizá por el lenguaje misterioso que
supieron “inventar” para si; ese lenguaje del silencio que unió sus almas y sus
corazones.
Juan A. Pellicer Nicolás, poeta, escritora, editor, en
2014 Presidente de la Asociación de los Escritores de la Región de Murcia
Delegado Regional de la Unión Nacional de Escritores de España
para la Región de Murcia
Ante nuestros ojos el libro de relatos de Cornelia Paun, un mosaico de
impactantes narraciones de fuerte tensión y angustia. Consigue que el lector
viva las situaciones, como si en realidad fuera protagonista, son relatos
crudos en los que comprobamos que es imposible romper con nuestro destino.
La voz de Cornelia construye pasado y presente de un entorno que le es
familiar, los difíciles años del siglo pasado que desembocan sin ausencia de
continuidad, en la terrible crisis política y económica actual, vividos por
personajes que sobreviven con dificultad, en un ambiente no exento de
esperanza, sin la cual, sería imposible construir un futuro.
“EL SHOCK“, nos sumerge en un tema de gran actualidad que podría
suceder en cualquier país del Centro o Sur de Europa, donde la crisis ha
golpeado brutalmente a las capas más vulnerables de la población, los bancos
han expulsado de sus viviendas a miles de ciudadanos y conseguir una vivienda
digna, es poco menos que imposible, lo que conlleva la aparición de mafias
carente de sentimientos que se aprovechan de los desfavorecidos, hasta las
últimas consecuencias.
“El Shock“ es un gran trabajo literario, mantiene el clímax a lo
largo de todo el texto y los personajes se ven obligados a luchar por una
causa, aún a sabiendas del peligro que supone para sus propias vidas.
“Amor de Cernăuţi”, relato que mezcla dos grandes dramas de la humanidad,
con el amor. La emigración obligada para muchos ciudadanos golpeados por la
crisis de sus países, los lleva a empezar una nueva vida lejos de su entorno
familiar y social en circunstancias difíciles, y una vez se adaptan a la nueva
situación, en este caso a través del amor y una nueva familia, aparece un nuevo
drama, la guerra, terrible siempre por sus consecuencias, el amor que se cruza
con la muerte y el dolor, situaciones descritas con una gran técnica literaria
por la autora.
En definitiva, un libro de relatos en los
que la autora, lejos de caer en la redención, ni en la condena moralista de sus
personajes, elabora relatos bien escritos de trama interesante y personajes
creíbles.
Fernando Sabido Sánchez
– Poeta, Editor
de
diversas antologías poéticas, Pintor, España
Comentarios a los
textos de Cornelia Păun Heinzel
La
escritora y la
periodista Marín Luisa M. Chaves : “Dr. Cornelia Păun – „La esencia de un sentimiento” en revista
„ESTEPONAVIVA” COSTA DEL SOL - “Hola amigos, hoy tenemos
el honor de contar con la inestimable colaboración de Cornelia Păun,
una poeta capaz de dibujar en vuestra mente los sentimientos más profundos…”
Reseña del relatos
de Dr.Cornelia Paun
Reseña de “El Shock” De Dr. Cornelia
Paun
Desde el
principio este relato trata de introducir al lector, y lo consigue
magistralmente, en un ambiente de gris frialdad y decadencia… Un Bucarest
devastado por el tiempo y los conflictos marca el escenario y los actos de este
magnífico relato.
La autora consigue envolver al lector en la fría
historia de una pareja enamorada, atrapada por el sistema y la corrupción, y
construye una magnífica historia de intriga, corrupción y terror.
A lo largo de
esta obra, se pueden palpar las pronunciadas facultades de Paun para poetizar
la prosa, envolviendo esta compleja trama en visiones que nos transportan a su
mundo de belleza impalpable.
“El Shock” es un
estupendo y peculiar relato que toma fuerza a partir de la segunda mitad y que
no dejará a nadie indiferente.
Reseña de La “Rueda del Destino” de D. Cornelia
Paun.
Estremecedor
relato teñido del interesante y etéreo estilo de Dr. Cornelia Paun.
Desde las
primeras líneas de este relato podremos disfrutar de otro de los temas y
escenarios característicos de esta escritora, nuevamente preñado de misterio en
un ambiente de engañosa cotidianeidad.
En “La Rueda del
Destino” podemos disfrutar desentrañando poco a poco el misterio que encierra
la obsesión enfermiza del principal protagonista, el director de escuela, Radu,
así como de un velado aleccionamiento crítico sobre la mediocridad y corrupción
de la sociedad actual.
Otra muy
recomendable lectura de Cornelia Paun.
Reseña de “Universidad-Cuerpo Y”
En este
apasionante relato Dr. Cornelia Paun, nos invita a zambullirnos sin miedo en
una verdadera cascada de sensaciones de la mano de la hermosa Camelia, mujer
inteligente, bondadosa y trabajadora y que a pesar de ello, parece encontrarse
constantemente en peligro de despeñar su vida, metafórica y físicamente sobre
los puntiagudos laberintos a los que debe enfrentarse.
Camelia, mujer
frágil físicamente y fuerte intelectual y moralmente, nos presenta dudas acerca
de la conveniencia de la perfección y si esta resulta ventajosa o al contrario
un escollo que salvar.
Reseña de “El laberinto de los enigmas”
En este
apasionante relato, Dr. Cornelia Paun de nuevo nos sumerge en un mundo su frío
y distante, plagado de personajes
esquivos que conforman una espesa tela de araña que parece resquebrajarse a
cada instante. Los protagonistas parecen ser el epicentro de una multitud de
macabros sucesos que poco a poco y con un efecto casi claustrofóbico, estrechan
su enigmática influencia sobre ellos… En este trabajo, la Sra. Paun vuelve a
perseguir con éxito convulsionar el ánimo de un lector cautivado.
La acción vuelve
a describir una sociedad de clases definidas y costumbres rígidas convulsionada
por su mundo de misterios y pasiones…
Dr. Joel F. Reyes
Perez, poeta y médico, Mexico :
He leído con interés su obra de relatos que usted amablemente me envió. Es
un interesante conjunto de relatos de agradable narrativa ,y que muestra un
desarrollo que mantiene el interés en la lectura, logra expresar mensajes
claros y se dirige con sencillez a un lector. Cuenta con un estilo expositivo
ágil y que bien permite entender los significados del núcleo del tema. Me
permito felicitarle por su obra, y le quedo agradecido por permitirme manifestarle
mis consideraciones. “
“Interesante y especial es su escrito, con reflexiones y
conceptos profundos expresados claramente en suaves y cuidados versos. Un gusto
es seguir sus publicaciones “
Giovanny Riquelme
poeta y ingeniero civil, Chile : „en los relatos se aprecia el módulo de exposición de la realidad que se presenta en ellos, marcados por los
desenlaces que nos hacen pensar en la vida y como los hechos ocurren sin saber
los destinos de cada uno„
Maria
Sanchez Fernández, escritora, España : „Amor de Cernauti” es un cuento de tantos que se han escrito basados en la
segunda guerra mundial y sus repercusiones en la vida de las familias. El tema
es bonito y un tanto inocente y “dulzón”...
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Alexandru Tomescu, scriitor și editor CANADA : „Colaborarea poetei şi scriitoarei Dr. Păun Cornelia, la
publicaţia „ALTERNATIVA” din Toronto, Canada a fost primită cu mult entuziasm
de cititorii şi colaboratorii revistei.
Încă de la primul
eseu intitulat „Şocul”, apărut în ediţia din august 2013, Prof. Constantin
Teodorescu, titularul rubricii „Însemnări” a afirmat că este vorba de „un real
talent”.
Nu multe au fost paginile de proză
primite şi publicate de noi, dar valoarea lor le-a situat în top-ul numărului
de cititori, după cum arată şi contoarele de pagină.
Subiectul este condus cu o artă
deosebită, descrierile sunt simple, dar pline de expresivitate, urmare a unei
observaţii atente, care susţine decorul general cu amănunte de înalt
rafinament.
Personajele sunt vii, pline de
afectivitate, care chiar în împrejurări triste, dure, nu folosesc ameninţarea
sau tăişul ascuns al răzbunării; lăsă pe cititor să tragă singur concluzia, ca
o lecţie pentru viaţă.
Poezia ei, cu subiecte ancorate în
realităţile cotidiene, în vise, speranţe sau dezamăgiri, trăieşte prin valoarea
artistică şi prin mesajul transmis. Poeta
cucereşte pe cititor prin mesajul transmis; versurile sunt expresia unei
măreţii a mărturisirii.
Opera
ei izvorăşte dintr-o simbioză, o îmbinare armonioasă a preocupărilor sale:
ştiinţele exacte cu cele umaniste. ”
Florin Grigoriu,Uniunea Ziariștilor Profesioniști: ”Cornelia
Păun scriitoare publicată în Franţa, USA,
Malaezia, Australia etc.” (Un şuierat prelung, sfâşietor, ca un bocet disperat
pătrunde… adânc..
POSTFAȚĂ
Dan
Costinaş, romancier și traducător, noiembrie 2014“Pentru un
scurt moment, poţi fi un mare rege, / ... / Într-o singură clipă, poţi să
pierzi / Totul, puţin sau nimic...” Aceste versuri din finalul poemului "Timp", semnat de autoarea
volumului de faţă, mi-au venit în minte imediat după ce am terminat de citit povestirile.
Cornelia Păun Heinzel, la gentilissima dottoressa, remarcabilă
reprezentantă a generaţiei de scriitori-kamikaze ‒ cum altfel aş putea să-i
numesc pe cei care mai scriu poezie ori proză într-un an 2014 sfâşiat la
propriu de o criză mondială fără precedent şi, culmea, apoi o publică nonşalant
? Să fie doar o dovadă de clasică temeritate sinucigaşă, de sacrificare a
luptătorului într-o acţiune surprinzătoare de atac ?! Sau vorbim despre un
autor-kamikaze ~ vântul divin care aduce o adiere de elegantă normalitate
într-o lume tot mai sumbră, egoistă si grăbită !?
Agreabilă povestitoare, doamna Păun Heinzel se aventurează într-un tip de
literatură foarte alunecos, proza scurtă fiind un exerciţiu complicat de
libertate imaterială, în condiţiile în care libertatea este ea însăşi un
concept complex şi extrem de încâlcit. Se aventurează, dar ştie să-şi dozeze
aceste sentimente într-un mod firesc şi natural, operând concomitent atât cu
instrumentele specifice poetului, cât şi cu cele ale prozatorului.
Aquellos que no
recuerdan el pasado, están condenados a repetirlo. (Cei care nu-şi amintesc trecutul sunt condamnaţi să îl repete.) - scria,
în " Viaţa raţiunii", la început de secol XX, filosoful şi omul de
litere american de origine spaniolă Jorge Santayana y Borrás, cu mai bine de un
deceniu înainte de izbucnirea crizei care a condus la declanşarea Războiului
Naţiunilor şi ulterior la ascendenţa regimurilor politice degenerate, bazate pe
fascism, nazism ori bolşevism timpuriu.
Cei care nu-şi
amintesc trecutul sunt cei care nu-şi amintesc istoria şi erorile ei.
Numeroase, dar şi extrem de grave erori: amprentele lăsate de un sistem politic
bolnav asupra societăţii, anii în care, siliţi la tot felul de privaţiuni
materiale, oamenii începuseră să nu îşi mai găsească compensaţia nici măcar în
plăceri de ordinul spiritului. Riscul de a cădea într-un somn al raţiunii,
acela care naşte monştri, era real şi plutea ameninţător în ultimii ani de
dictatură. Va fi nevoie, probabil, de alţi o sută de ani pentru cicatrizarea
rănilor produse în acea jumătate de veac de totalitarism, iar sângele otrăvit
de regrete tardive pentru răul făcut va continua să picure încă multă vreme
după aceea.
Nu trebuie să
uităm, sub nicio formă, de barbaria unui sistem care, sprijinit de un puternic
aparat represiv, a guvernat prin genocid împotriva unor clase sociale,
promovând o ideologie atee şi fluturând modelul utopic al unei societăţi
egalitare. Crime sângeroase, înfăptuite pe pământ românesc în plin secol XX, în
numele unei uri fără temei şi fără raţiune.
Doamna Păun
Heinzel nu ne lasă să uităm ororile şi frica trăite; iertăm, dar nu uităm -
pare a fi mesajul şoptit printre rânduri generaţiei foarte tinere. Luaţi aminte
şi nu mai permiteţi o tragedie similară!
Când spui
Cernăuţi, când spui Bucovina, n-ai cum să nu te gândeşti la Gala Galaction, la
Ciprian Porumbescu, la Sextil Pușcariu şi, nu în ultimul rând, la Eminescu,
elevul cărturarului Aron Pumnul la gimnaziul german din Cernăuți; mai curg şi
astăzi, după aproape 150 de ani, "Lăcrimioare... la mormântul
prea-iubitului lor profesoriu"
În cânturi răsunânde, suspine-armonioase, / Colo, în
Eliseu!...
Broşura conţine ofranda a şapte "învăţăcei gimnalişti" şi include
poezia La mormântul lui Aron Pumnul, semnată:
M. Eminoviciu, privatist.
Precum Câmpiile Elizee odinioară, Cernăuţiul este un tărâm paradisiac, de
la capătul lumii, în care se odihnesc, după moarte, suflete eroilor şi ale
tuturor oamenilor virtuoşi. ”
Criticul
ar trebui să descrie, nu să prescrie, spunea odată Eugène Ionesco (am ales, aici şi acum, ortografia franceză,
aşa cum a fost el înregistrat in anul 2009, post-mortem, ca membru al Academiei
Române).
„ Haremul„ – poate cea mai
credibilă dintre povestiri, cu naraţiune condusă şi dozată cu multă dibăcie;
flashback-uri, insinuări, fraze sau gânduri neterminate – foarte inspirat
plasate în text, conturează imaginea unui “harem” caricatural, dar verosimil în
acelaşi timp.
Recomandarea mea pentru “Poștașul nu mai sună de două ori”. nu se bazează pe
clişeul “sexul vinde” - oricum, trimiterile cu această tentă sunt foarte
elegant şi decent introduse în povestire, ele fac parte din viaţa reală -, ci
pe altceva mai subtil: un nou episod din “documentarul” despre Generaţia
debusolată. Este o tristă realitate pe care nu avem voie să o ascundem, pentru
unii nefericiţi (prinşi la jumătatea vieţii) chiar a fost un cataclism, de
parcă s-ar fi inversat polii magnetici ai planetei în acel decembrie 1989.
În cele câteva rânduri de mai sus, nici nu am descris şi
nici nu am prescris. Vă invit să consideraţi cuvintele mele doar simple
« Note de călătorie » prin labirintul povestirilor doamnei Cornelia Păun Heinzel. Dacă le citiţi înainte de a savura
povestirile, consideraţi-le o recomandare călduroasă de lectură, iar dacă le
citiţi ulterior, luaţi-le drept o invitaţie la meditaţie profundă, de recitire
a "textului" inserat printre rândurile distinsei autoare.
Emanuel Stoica -
scriitor Suedia: „ Dintr-o perspectivă nuanţată,
a celui familiarizat cu anumite etape din istoria recentă a României, proza
doamnei Cornelia Păun propune radiografia fracturilor unei lumi agresate, care
îşi pierde valorile prin contaminare cu răul absolut. Universul devine astfel
un spaţiu al alienării, un ospiciu, un laborator al demonilor, în care singura
reţetă eficientă pentru succes este o combinaţie între prostie şi furt, cărora
li se adaugă, de la caz la caz, o cantitate potrivită de dezonoare. „Cu
inteligenţa nu mai faci nimic în ziua de azi! Nici cu cinstea!” (Florica,
în „Ultimul drum”).
Naraţiunea cu un pronunţat caracter psiho-social pare a fi inspirată din
întâmplări reale iar cititorul conştient de acest aspect se găseşte, fără
veste, în situaţii similare uneia ipotetice, absurde, în care ar fi martor la
suferinţa unui ochi în care stă înfipt un cui ruginit.
Autoarea admninistrează cu originalitate ceea ce s-ar putea spune că sunt
trei episoade terapeutice, un fel de exorcizare prin arătarea cu degetul a
acestui demon al răului, operaţiune personificată de cele trei texte a căror
cheie pare că se află în proza „Dragoste la Cernăuţi”. Dintr-o
lume având la temelie ierarhii morale şi sociale autentice (în care existau şi
tradiţii, etichetă, în care generaţiile care purtaseră frac şi joben se
pregăteau să predea ştafeta celor tineri), personajele sunt târâte de tăvălugul
evenimentelor istorice, într-un iad existenţial la baza căruia se află o
ideologie căreia, pentru a acţiona, nu îi este necesară nicio motivaţie
comprehensibilă prin prisma sistemelor de referinţă ale victimelor, însă, nici
prin prisma cititorului, prezumat a fi, mai degrabă, nu doar un martor oarecare
ci unul direct interesat de finalitatea acestei vivisecţii. Practic, demonii
aşezaţi sub cuţitul prozei doamnei Cornelia Păun sunt contemporani cu noi. Ei
nu sunt doar argumente în sprijinul aserţiunii darwiniste potrivit căreia nu
supravieţuieşte cel mai inteligent ci acela care se adaptează mai repede.
Prezenţa lor atât de vie, activă, pestilenţială, se conturează, mai curând, ca
un avertisment pentru cei care ar putea avea naivitatea să nu se teamă, să
creadă că spiritul uman nu mai poate fi schimonosit de vreo ideologie ori că
există vreun areal în care aceste situaţii sunt imposibile. În universurile în
care se încearcă ştergerea memoriei şi se impun ideologii cu dreptul forţei,
îngerii sunt lăsaţi să respire doar pentru finalitatea unor raţionamente cinice
ale diavolului.
Oare cum ar putea fi primită,această lume, de cititorul aparţinând unui
spaţiu cultural complet diferit, peste care nu s-au abătut astfel de intemperii
istorice ? Pură ficţiune, ar putea concluziona acesta din urmă, fiindu-i
dificil de crezut că există posibilitatea reală a reducerii fiinţei umane, a
spiritului, la asemenea dimensiuni. Aşa ar fi crezut, probabil, şi personajele
care au inspirat-o pe autoare, probabil chiar doamna Cornelia Păun ar fi putut
privi aşa, dacă nu ar fi existat momentul istoric real în care, pe străzile
capitalei României, în anii 90, s-a strigat
„Moarte intelectualilor!” şi „Noi muncim, nu gândim!”.
Ar fi prea mult, totuşi, să credem că această societate a devenit un fel de
teren otrăvit ireversibil, total, cu ceea ce era odinioară celebrul insecticid
DDT, unde nu se mai poate respira. Dragostea este elementul care a conservat
umanitatea şi cu ajutorul căreia a supravieţuit ceea ce trebuie să devină un
nou început, chiar în condiţiile unui peisaj în care se face trimitere la
grotesc şi este evocat „Infernul” lui
Dante Alighieri. „Căci orice floare îţi dezvăluie privirii, dacă o studiezi cu atenţie,
miracolul ei. Chiar dacă este o simplă buruiană...” (Şocul)
Paul și Isabela sunt, în contextul dantesc din Şocul, un studiu de caz despre naturala aspiraţie către
normalitate, despre direcţia din care vin şi spre care se îndreaptă energiile
regeneratoare, recuperatoare ale firescului. Dar, mai ales, despre preţul
acestei repoziţionări a lumii româneşti post totalitare şi despre generaţia
care îl plăteşte. Vampirii ideologici şi fantomele trecutului joacă în
continuare un rol important. Moartea tinerilor, însă, am putea să credem că
este, dintr-o perspectivă strict scenaristică, un act ostentativ, un semnal de
alarmă. La fel ca în viaţa reală, nu învinge întotdeauna doar binele. Totuşi,
tragedia are o latură pozitivă. În paralel cu cei schimonosiţi ireversibil,
sunt vizibili oamenii care încep să mai creadă în poveşti, indivizii ale căror
idealuri lor nu se hrănesc cu suferinţa celorlalţi. Iată, într-o interpretare
subiectivă, ipoteze despre frumuseţile şi sensurile noi pe care acest tip de
abordare narativă le poate isca, „arghezian”, din bube, mucegaiuri şi noroi.
Dar, substratul optimist cel mai puternic al demersului prozatoarei Cornelia
Păun constă în însăşi abordarea literară a unei problematici cu implicaţii de
asemenea anvergură. În toate epocile, fiecare societate are, pe tărâmul artelor,
martori al căror produs intelectual este un medicament amar dar necesar. Iată,
în proză, doamna Cornelia Păun şi-a asumat acest rol faptic, cu curaj, nu doar
încununat de succes ci şi de o energie creatoare care implică, alături de
talent, foarte multă determinare.
Mihai Horga, poet: Fidelă acestui gen, autoarea,
mi-a produs-ca să folosesc titlul, un irefutabil șoc,mai rar întâlnit.
Cufundându-mă în lecturarea textului captivant,nu am regretat...
Jungla de beton a
orașelor, întrece cu mult, în cruzime pe cea a animalelor, care ucid
instinctual, pentru hrană și numai cât e necesar. Este un adevăr
inconturnabil...dar,să ne întoarcem la maculata junglă a Bucureștiului de după
nebuloasele vremuri ale ,,involuției'' din 89, în care,omul simplu este sacrificat
de către șacalii mafioți imobiliari fără scrupule,servitori ai zeului BAN,
apăruți în vidul legislativ când mizeria umană iese la suprafață precum otrava
din rană,infectând societatea umană debusolată.
Un cuplu tânăr -
Paul și Isabela,își caută o casă pentru cuibul lor de fericire,urmărind
oferte,variante,căi de rezolvare,după modestele lor posibilități financiare...
Dar, fericirea de a găsi casa mult visată, are și reversul ei-nefericirea
întrucât intră în moara de măcinat nervi,în hățișul coteriilor acestor indivizi
venoți, care le vând o casă-fantomă și care le devine mormânt,fiind uciși în
som.enigma plutind ambiguu...
Autoarea acestei
terifiante povestiri,încearcă și reușește să ne țină cu sufletul la
gură,dovedind un real talent,dozând crescent misterul până la finalul inefabil,
nedrept. Citit cu interes,fără a divulga totul.
CORNELIA PAUN HEINZEL este
scriitoarea care cu sensibilitate și realism întregește cu arta sa literară
spiritualitatea culturală românească
Proza înseamnă narațiune, prezentarea unei succesiuni de
întâmplări prin care trec eroii construcției literare, eroi care capătă
identitate, devin entități vii. Cititorii acelei proze se pot identifica sau nu
cu unele dintre personaje dar și autorul prozei se poate ascunde în pielea
unuia dintre acestea. Narațiunea în
proza scriitoarei Cornelia Păun Heinzel este
prezentată la persoana a treia, generând obiectivitate și detașare, o aparentă
neimplicare, ca aceea a unui reportaj. Modul personajelor de a gândi și a se
manifesta, ambianța în care se manifestă, faptele relevante care le
caracterizează, ascund fațetele multiple ale realității dincolo de care resimți
extrem de subtil implicarea autoarei, chiar o anume feminitate.
Dragoste de Cernăuți, deși
este o povestire, ne pare fi un roman, desigur un micro roman, fiind una dintre
puținele proze din literatura română dedicată zonei Cernăuțiului ce era parte a
regatului Moldovei condus de Ștefan cel Mare, teritoriu străvechi al românilor
moldoveni, acum aflat în componența Ucrainei. În urma unei bătălii pe care a purtat-o în nordul formațiunii
sale statale, în Pocuția, Ștefan cel Mare a luat un număr semnificativ de robi
pe care i-a numit ruteni și pentru că nu avea unde să-i pună la muncă pentru
interesele Moldovei, i-a așezat în zona Cernăuți. Ucrainienii de astăzi de la
Cernăuți se consideră urmașii acelor ruteni. Până în anul 1940, în zona
Cernăuți, 80% din populație era reprezentată de români moldoveni și 15% de
ucrainieni. Începând din 1775, zona Cernăuți a făcut parte din Imperiul
Habsburgic fiind favorizată colonizarea zonei de către nemți și evrei care au
introdus în zonă rigoare, seriozitate și dinamicitate. Orașul devine Mica Vienă
a răsăritului. Din 1918, zona Cernăuți ajunge parte a Regatului României având
o dezvoltare spectaculoasă datorită fondurilor masive investite aici de oamenii
de afaceri români regățeni. Începând cu iunie 1940 zona este ocupată de Armata
Roșie a URSS, moment când o parte semnificativă din populația de origine română,
numeroși nemți și evrei au fugit în România încercând să se salveze din fața
hoardelor jefuitoare și criminale sovietice.
Pentru
românii de astăzi Cernăuțiul este orașul unde Eminescu și-a făcut studiile
gimnaziale. De la Suceava la Cernăuți sunt 70 km iar de la punctul de vamă
Siret 40 km, pe un drum asfaltat dar plin de gropi pe care nimeni nu mai știe
când a fost reparat sau dacă a fost reparat vreodată. Orașul poate candida
astăzi la titlul de cel mai frumos oraș din Europa din cauză că nu au fost
demolate clădirile vechi ci au fost reparate și bine îngrijite, iar altele noi,
blocurile comuniste, nu prea au fost construite. Sunt numeroase clădiri vechi
de 250 ani. Astfel, aflat în Cernăuți ai impresia că ai efectuat o călătorie în
timp. Românii din Cernăuți și-au făcut zece organizații culturale iar studenții
români sunt organizați în societatea Eminescu, promovând cultura românească și
protejându-și drepturile. Ei reprezintă astăzi o zecime din populația orașului.
Una din problemele majore ale statului ucrainian din zilele noastre, în
situația în care această țară ar deveni parte a comunității europene este
legată de restituirea foștilor propietari sau urmașilor lor legali a
propietăților care le-au aparținut.
Dragoste
de Cernăuți este o povestire emoționantă, fără înflorituri de stil inutile,
creația unui scriitor matur care aduce trecutul în prezent, o privire
nostalgică asupra unei părți din spiritualitatea românească.
Repere culturale conexate cu Cornelia
Păun Heinzel
Cornelia PĂUN - cu pseudonimul
Cornelia PĂUN HEINZEL, după numele bunicii din partea mamei care provenea
dintr-o familie austriacă – tatăl bunicii a fost ofiţer la Curtea Împăratului
de la Viena, s-a născut la Braşov şi este scriitoare, poetă, jurnalistă membră
a Presei Internaţionale, filolog şi profesor doctor.
Păun Cornelia este profesor doctor inginer, cu titlul de Doctor în Roboţi
Industriali, din 1998, al Universităţii Politehnice Bucureşti, Master în
Management şi Evaluare Educaţională, Facultatea de Psihologie şi Ştiinţele
Educaţiei, Universitatea Bucureşti şi Master în Didactica Disciplinelor
Filologice, Facultatea de Litere, Universitatea Bucureşti, licenţiată și șefă
de promoție în Filologie, Limba şi Literatura română - Limba şi Literatura
franceză, Facultatea de Litere, a absolvit printre primii secţia şi Facultatea
TCM Universitatea Braşov.
Păun Cornelia a debutat ca scriitoare în Revue de culture, critique et
imagination „Asymetria”, FRANȚA şi ca poetă în cadrul revistei „AGERO-STUTTGART” GERMANIA,
Magazin cultural și de informație și al AGENȚIEI DE PRESĂ NÜRNBERG. Este membru al presei internaţionale şi
al“POETAS DEL MUNDO”, editează "ANTHOLOGIEMULTILINGUA", fiind prezentă în Encyclopedie Poetry USA şi
în mai multe Antologii ale scriitorilor şi poeţilor din întreaga lume printre
care:” L’ANTHOLOGIE
DES POèMES D’AMOUR FRANCOPHONES”, “ANTOLOGIA
DE LA POESIA ESPANOLA”, ESPANA, “ANTOLOGIA
UNIVERSAL DE LA POESIA HISPANICA”-AMERICA LATINA,“ANTOLOGIA
ESCRITORAS DEL MUNDO SIGLO XXI”, ANTOLOGIA “POESIA DE MUJER“,“ANTOLOGIA SCRIITORILOR ROMÂNI DE PE TOATE CONTINENTELE, ANTOLOGIA UNIVERSALĂ A POEZIEI ROMÂNEȘTI
CONTEMPORANE – „MERIDIANE LIRICE - ARIPI DE VIS”, „EPOSS MERIDIANE” - “ANTOLOGIA DE PROZĂ SCURTĂ CONTEMPORANĂ A
ROMÂNILOR DE PRETUTINDENI,
2013, etc.
A fost redactor colaborator la un ziar cotidian românesc și este colaborator
permanent la diferite reviste și publicații străine din străinătate, publicând lunar
în reviste de cultură de prestigiu din Spania: „Letras”, Revista de „RELATOS,
POEMAS, NOVELAS”, “ESTEPONAVIVA“, Narrativa Poesia COSTA DEL SOL, "Poesía
contemporánea", "MATEMATICAS Y POESIA", Poesía Extranjera en
Español España, reviste
universitare de literatură din Spania şi din ţări ale Americii Latine,REVISTA INTERNACIONAL DE
CRITERIO ACTUAL „Redyaccion”,
Columbia, “Poetas del Mundo” Chile, „POETAS DEL MUNDO” CHILE,
“PALABRAS MÁS” BOLIVIA, "ODISEU EN EL EREBO" – POEMAS, ENSAYOS, TEATRO, RESENAS, CRITICA LITERARIA, EL
SALVADOR, „LABERINTO DE TOROGOZ – TIERRA DE CUSCATLÁN”, “DIVAN
DEL ESCRIBA”, “VATE A LA ANTIGUA, “EL CINESCOPIO”, “LABERINTO DE LLUVIA”, “STARMEDIA
AMERICA LATINA”, “MUNDO LITERARIA“, “POEMATRIX”, “POEMAS DEL ALMA”, “LATINO
POEMAS”, “SOYPOETA”, “METAPOESIA”, “Poesia en català”, “LASPOESIA”, Venezuela - Revista literaria
con textos, fotos, críticas de cine, música y libros, publicaţia literară a Ministerului Educaţiei
din Argentina, Bolivia “PALABRAS MÁS”, din Canada, „Literature 21st century”
Miami, USA, din Malaezia: „PANTOUNS SAYANG”, „LETRAS DE MALAISIE” şi din Canada
„Atheneum”, „L’Alternative” „Confluenţe literare” Australia.
A
publicat în reviste literare franceze din Franţa: „LE CAPITAL DE MOTS”, Revue littéraire de poesie contemporaine,
FRANCE, „L’AUTOBUS”, „POèMES D’ AMOUR FRANCE”, FRANCE,
PoemesFrance, Poésie d’amour, LES TRIBULATIONS D’ERIC
DUBOIS POESIE-POETRY , „Les poèmes de la littérature francophone” - France, italiene din Italia: “GAZETIN
TELLUSFOLIO”/“BOTTEGA LETTERARIA”, Racconti “Poetare”, “Poesia Nueva”,
“Oggiscrivo”, “Scrivere”, India: Review „TAJ MAHAL”, „ESTORIES” Tallin, Estonia,
Islande “Poem Treasure” şi din diasporă: „ROMANIAN PAGES IN NEW ZEALAND”, Noua Zeelandă, REVISTA de literatură
„ONYX”, DUBLIN, Irlanda, din U.S.A.: revista „Clipa„USA "GÂNDACUL DE COLORADO”, " LUMEA ROMÂNEASCĂ", CLUBUL PRESEI TRANSATLANTICE, Washington, CANADA: “OBSERVATORUL” TORONTO, REVISTA
"RADIOMETAFORA" MONTREAL, REVISTA INTERNAȚIONALĂ „STARPRESS”
- ROMÂNO-CANADIANO-AMERICANĂ, revista "PROLITERA" Germania, din România: „Ardealul literar”, „Caiete Silvane,
„Oglinda literară”, „Regatul cuvântului”, „Sfera Eonică”, revista
de cultura „Omniscop”, „NEWS4DIASPORA”, ‚ARMONII CULTURALE” - Revistă
universală de creație și atitudine culturală, „REVISTA
SINGUR”, Revistă de cultură, civilizație și atitudine morală, "SLOVA
CRESTINA", „MELIDONIUM”, Revistă
de cultură, arte, tradiții, credință, istorie, educație, REVISTA
"HATEGWORLD","MAGAZIN SALAJAN", « ZALAU TV »,
«PORTAL CARTE ŞI ARTE», « Lupul
dacic ».
Poemele
lui Cornelia Păun au fost traduse de personalităţi culturale din întreaga lume
în:franceză,
germană, engleză, italiană, japoneză, rusă, arabă, portugheză, olandeză, suedeză,greacă, catalană, persană, turcă, polonă, letónă, cehă, maghiară, sârbă, búlgară, albaneză,slovenă, azeră, georgiană, aromână, chineză, etc.
Povestirile scriitoarei Cornelia Păun au fost traduse în spaniolă, franceză,
engleză, rusă, italiană şi greacă.
Cărți de specialitate
publicate:
A
publicat primul Manual al calității unei
unități de învățământ ,
(Editura Printech, 2006), şase cărţi de specialitate: Contribuții
la cercetarea elastodinamica o mecanismelor robotilor industriali, Teza de doctorat, (Editura Universității Politehnice
București,1998); Proiectul la discipline tehnice (Editura
Printech, 2003); Teste de Organe de mașini și mecanisme pentru Bacalaureat (Editura
Printech, 2003); Metoda jocurilor în învățământ (Editura
Printech, 2010);Contribuții la cercetarea elastodinamica o mecanismelor
robotilor industriali , rezumatul tezei de doctorat, (Editura
Universității Politehnice București, 1998 şi peste două sute de articole.
Literatură: A publicat un volum bilingv de proză scurtă "El cartero nunca más llama dos
veces" o "Sueños ... sueños ... sueños" / "Poştaşul un mai
sună de două ori" sau "Visuri… visuri… visuri…" şi altele sunt
în curs de apariţie: “El laberinto de las enigmas”, “The Transatlantic
Dreams”, “Η
στροφή του πεπρωμένου”,“Amour
criminal” .
Biografie
Cornelia Păun s-a
născut la Brașov, tatăl
fiind inginer electronist la Regionala Căi Ferate Brașov și mama profesoară de
limba română. În școală a fost întotdeauna premianta întâi și olimpică la
matematică. A absolvit Colegiul „Dr. Ioan Meșotă” din Brașov, secția de
Matematică Fizică, la care a fost admisă luând la concursul de admitere nota 10
la proba de matematică și 9,50 la limba română, cea mai mare notă la această
probă. A fost în continuare premiantă și olimpică la matematică.
Dragostea pentru cărţi a
moştenit-o de la bunicul său, din partea mamei, profesor de filozofie (fiu de
preot) şi de la mama sa, profesoară de limba română. Când a mers la şcoală la
şase ani, deja citise toate cărţile din casă, care erau foarte multe şi care
aveau ca autori cei mai renumiţi scriitori din literatura universală. Bunicul
său cunoştea limba greacă veche, limba latină, limba franceză, limba germană,
limba italiană, limba spaniolă şi spre sfârşitul vieţii a învăţat singur limba
engleză. A învăţat de mică limba germană în casă , de la bunica din partea
mamei, Elsa Heizel, care provenea dintr-o familie austriacă cu tatăl
fost ofițer la Curtea Împăratului de la Viena.
Se ha publicado a Casa editorial griega "ALCRIS" el volumen bilingue Español-Rumano de prosa corta con el título " El cartero nunca más llama dos veces" O "Sueños...sueños...sueños..." de la escritora rumana de fama y prestigio
internacional Dr. Cornelia Păun Heinzel. El libro tiene un prólogo
escrito por el famoso escritor y editor Juan Antonio Pellicer Nicolás, en 2014 Presidente de
la Asociación de los Escritores de la Región de Murcia, Delegado
Regional de la Unión Nacional de Escritores de España para la Región de Murcia y el poeta y pintor Fernando Sabido Sánchez y prologado por
el redactor y el escritora de Suecia Emanuel Stoica, y el novelista Dan
Costinaş. La obra se ha ilustrado por Maria Serena Diaconescu y Maria Dima.
Las traducciones
en español se realizaron por la escritora Jero Crespi, por el novelista Dan Costinaș y la Senora Mihaela Băzăvan, la Senora Diplomat
Luminiţa Penciu, de la Embajada y por a unos de los mas populares comediantes y
dramaturgos de España, el senor director, escritor, poeta, actor de cine,
teatro y television, Alfredo Cernuda.
Apreciaciones
y comentarios a los textos de Cornelia Păun fueron hechos por: el
editor y el escritor Alexandru Tomescu,
Canada, por Dr. Joel F. Reyes Perey, poeta y médico, Mexico, por la escritora Maria
Sanchez Fernández, por la escritora y periodista Marin Luisa M. Chavez, por el
editor y poeta José Antonio Hervás, España, por Giovanny Riquelme, poeta y ingeniero, Chile y por el poeta rumano Mihai
Horga.
Sobre
el libro articulos en 20 REVISTAS INTERNACIONALES DE 8 PAIS
https://issuu.com/jpellicer/docs/edicion35
2.
España ESPANA REVISTA DE RELATOS, POEMAS Y NOVELAS "REPOELAS"
3.
España
"ANTOLOGIA DE POESIA CASTELLANA"
4. COLOMBIA REVISTA
INTERNACIONAL DE CRITERIO ACTUAL "REDYACCION"
5.
los Estados Unidos, Miami Y CUBA REVISTA INTERNACIONAL
LITERARIA Y CULTURAL "LITERARIAS SIGLO XXI"
6. los Estados Unidos :"CLUB de la Prensa
Transatlántico" WASHINGTON
7.
los Estados
Unidos : REVISTA "CLIPA"
8.
ALEMANIA
Agencia de Prensa "Ases de
Rumania" NÜRNBERG
9. Canadá REVISTA DE CULTURA "ATHENEUM"
10. los Estados Unidos y Canadá, REVISTA "THE
ALTERNATIVE"/ L’A LTERNATIVE
11.
AUSTRALIA
Revista Internacional "CONFLUENTE LITERARIAS"
12.
RUMANIA, REVISTA "SINGUR"
13.RUMANIA, REVISTA "NEWS4 DIASPORA"
14. RUMANIA, Revista de
cultura universala "EL REINO DE LA PALABRA"
15.
RUMANIA, Revista
de cultura universala "LA ESFERA EONICA",
16.
RUMANIA revista de
cultura, arte, tradición, fe, historia, educación, "SLOVA CRESTINA" http://slova-crestina.ro/aparitie-editoriala_2015_08_04/
17. "LATINO POEMAS"
18. "POEMAS DEL ALMA"
19. "POEMATRIX" https://poematrix.com/autores/dr-cornelia-paun/poemas/la-presentacion-del-libro-el-cartero-nunca-mas-llama-dos-veces-o
20. "POETASONLINE"
21.
LAS POESIAS
Los 13
relatos del libro son:
"Amor de Cernăuţi" es « Una bellísima historia de amor »
(Juan Antonio Pellicer , editor, poeta, España) « bonito y un tanto inocente y “dulzón”... » (Maria
Sanchez Fernández, escritora, España) - entre las dos guerras mundiales.
"El Shock" es el relato
impactante de una joven pareja de intelectuales que quiere comprar una casa,
pero terminan trágicamente, estrenado una casa habitada por fantasmas, como una
pareja de amantes de otra época, en el mismo lugar.
En
"La curve de los destinos" es expuesto un evento que marca una vida
de un joven, que tiene lugar en una curva
misterioso, un verdadero “Triángulo de las Bermudas”, donde las personas que le acompañan, van a
encontrar su final. El personaje principal, es como su padre, amante de las
mujeres y la bebida. Aunque la situación a través del cual el joven hombre es
casi idéntico con la situación de su padre, los finales son diferentes,
dependiendo de la época en la que se produce el evento.
"El harén" es una
historia de una vida de un Collegio, donde las mujeres profesores de la institución
se vuelven amantes del Director. Cuando él se interesa por las escolares, las
profesores se vengan. Son sus intrigas las que le causan a director una
conmoción cerebral fatal.
"En la oscuridad del cuarto
mundo "es un panorama aterrador de la vida horrorosa de una institución
educativa, organizada en manera de una mafia, un mundo de corrupción y la
violencia.
En
"Los sueños ... sueños ... sueños" o "El cartero no mas llama
dos veces" presentan los sueños de los miembros de una familia, amigos y
conocidos, y cómo estos fueron cumplidas…
de un modo extraño.
“Destinos que son intersecan” es
un relato con una trama que trascurre dentro de una historia de adolescentes
que se encuentran en un campamento – un lugar estraño donde muchos chicos
mueren en un incendio – en un fuego durante la guerra mundial – y donde
hay una tormenta y las adolescentes se sienten misteriosamente, en la
necesidad de relatar cada una a su turno, los acontecimientos que marcaron su
vida.
“Universidad "Cuerpo Y" es un
relato autobiográfico.
"Para un amor hasta en el extremo del Tierra” es un relato idilico romántico
de dos estudiantes que después de la graduación, que vuelven a Mongolia, el
país natal del joven. El final es triste porque la mujer no puede adaptarse a
la dura vida de allí ya que no es aceptada por la comunidad siendo considerada
una extraña.
"Amore Caníbal“ es una historia de amor con un final espantoso de una bella rubia, la hija de un
ministro y el hijo del un líder africano, negro - que llegó a estudiar en
Rumanía, que en un momento de errante se despierto los instintos caníbales,
siendo muy trágico el final…
"24 horas entre la vida y la
morte" o “Casi muerto” es el día horroroso que vive un joven después de
haber sufrido una conmoción cerebral causada por el estrés diario del trabajo,
por la infidelidad de su esposa y de su amante, de ser engañado por las
empresas en las que el compra artículos o servicios de solicitud, robado
incluso por las mujeres ancianas de la “Asociación de Propietarios” en la que él
vive.
“Enamorado de una asesina en serie sobre
Internet” o “Amor criminal” es una terrible
tragedia de un joven, alumno amante por Internet de una extraña mujer…
“La
directora Diavola” o “La Diabla” es un bosquejo como el del más grande
dramaturgo rumano I.L. Caragiale, sobre la vida de un Colegio actual, donde en
lugar de Marius Chicos Rostogan
es dirigido por una directora diabólica, que , igual que el personaje de
Caragiale, aparece ahora modelo de imparcialidad y honestidad...
Dr. Cornelia Păun Heinzel es una
escritora rumana, poeta,
periodista
miembro de la Prensa Internacional, filólogo,
Cornelia PĂun Heinzel, escritora, poeta y profesora de origen rumano. Es Doctora en Robótica Industrial por la Universidad Politécnica de Bucarest y está en posesión de la Maestría en Gestión y Evaluación de la Educación por la Universidad de Bucarest y la Maestría en Filología por la Universidad de Bucarest. Tiene asimismo la Licenciatura en Letras por la Universidad de Brașov. Su obra científica es rica y variada, contando con seis libros como autora y más de 200 artículos publicados en revistas de especialidad en Rumanía y en el extranjero.
Ha colaborado en revistas de múltiples
países, entre las que pueden citarse : “Clipa“
EE UU, “Gandacul de Colorado“, " Lumea romaneasca" Estados Unidos, Revista
Internacional Literaria y cultural "Literarias siglo XXI", Miami, EE UU, “Atheneum“ Canadá, “The Alternative“, Estados Unidos y Canadá, “StarPress“ (coproducción
rumano-canadiense-americana), “Radio Metafora“ Montreal, “Observatorul“ Toronto, “Destine
Literare“, Canada, Revista de Creatión Literaria y Humanidades
“Gibralfaro”, Universidad de MÁlaga, España, Faculdad de Ciencias de la
Educación, Departamento de Didáctica de las Lenguas y las Artes, Revista de Relatos Poemas Y Novelas
"Repoelas", España, Revista digital de cultura "Letras de Parnaso", España, en "EsteponaViva" Narrativa-Poesía,
Costa del Sol, en "Matemáticas
y Poesía", “Páginas Rumanas en Nueva Zelanda“, Nueva Zelanda, “Pantun Sayang“ Malasia, “Onyx“ Dublin,
Irlanda, "Asymetria" revista de crítica y de creación, France, “Le Capital des Mots“, France, revista literaria de poesía contemporánea, "L'AUTOBUS'", France, “Les poèmes de la littérature francophone“, "Les tribulaciones d’Eric Dubois, France,"Lespoetes", Revue
Francophone “Pantouns, Lettres de Malaisie“, WikiPoemes-France, “Poemhunter“ Treasure Islande, “E-stories“ Talinn de Estonia; Agencia de Prensa "Ases de Rumania" Nürenberg, “Prolitera“ Alemania, “Agero-Stuttgart“ revista
de la información cultural, Alemania, revista “Tellus
Folio” “Bottega letteraria” Italia, “Poesia Nuova“ y “Scrivere“, “Poetare“, “Rosso Venexiano“, Italia; “Panfleto Negro“, Venezuela, “Red y
Acción“, Colombia, “Poetas
del Mundo“, Chile, “Palabras Más“, Bolivia; “Poesía Red Federal“, Argentina, “Excelsior“ Mexico, Revista digital de promocion
cultural “El
Universo del BÚHO Mexico“,“Arte Poetica“ El Salvador y en las revistas digitales “Vate a la Antigua“
, “Poematrix“, “Wikiespana“, “Poemas
del Alma“, “Soypoeta“ y “Metapoesia“, "Poesía contemporánea", Poesía Extranjera en Español , España, „Cortorelatos” España, “Mundo Literario“, “Latino
Poemas”, “Poesia en català”, “LasPoesia”, "Odiseu en el Erebo" –
Poemas, Ensazos, Teatro, Resenas, Critica Literara, El Salvador, „Laberinto
de Torogoz – Tierra de CUSCATLÁN”, “Divan del escriba”, “El cinescopio”, “Laberinto de
Lluvia”, “Starmedia America Latina”, “Un alma navegante”, "Poetas de hoy" Argentina, „Ficticia”–„Ciudad de Cuentos y
Historia”, „Sopa de Relatos” todas ellas en la
redes españolas, Revista internacional
"Confluenteliterare",Australia, NEWS4DIASPORA"
revista “Ardealul literar“, "Armonii culturale" revista de la creación y la actitud
cultural, revista "Singur", revista de cultura, civilización y
actitud moral, "Melidonium", revista de cultura, arte, tradición, fe,
historia, educación, "Slova crestina“, revista de cultura "Omniscop",
revista de cultura universala "Regatul cuvintelor", revista de
cultura universala "Sfera Eonica", revista “Caiete silvane“, "Magazin salajan", Zalau Tv, “Carte si arte“, revista "Hategworld", "Lupul
dacic", revista "Cartelul metaforelor", revista "13
Plus", "Revista de literatura romana", "Cetatea lui
Bucur", "Versuri şi creaţii".
Muestras de su obra se halla incluida en compendios antológicos
como Antología Mundial de Poesía (EE UU), Anthologie de Poemes
d’Amour (Francia), Poetas del Siglo XXI. Antología de Poesía Mundial (España),
“Arte poética” Antologia de la Poesia Universal, Antología de Poesía
Española, Antología de la Poesía Rumana Contemporánea, Meridian Letras
Universales y Antología de Escritores del Mundo, y otras obras de
colaboración.
Es miembro de la Prensa Transatlántico y de
Poetas del mundo, edita "ANTHOLOGIEMULTILINGUA".
Los poemas en rumano de Cornelia Păun han sido traducidos y
publicados en francés, alemán, inglés, italiano, japonés, ruso, árabe,
portugués, holandés, sueco, griego, catalán, persa, turco, polaco, letón,
checo, húngaro, serbio, búlgaro, albanesa, esloveno, azerbaiyano y georgiano,
entre otros.
Păun Cornelia este profesor doctor inginer, cu titlul de Doctor în Roboţi Industriali, din 1998, al Universităţii Politehnice Bucureşti, Master în Management şi Evaluare Educaţională, Facultatea de Psihologie şi Ştiinţele Educaţiei, Universitatea Bucureşti şi Master în Didactica Disciplinelor Filologice, Facultatea de Litere, Universitatea Bucureşti, licenţiată și șefă de promoție în Filologie, Limba şi Literatura română - Limba şi Literatura franceză, Facultatea de Litere, a absolvit printre primii secţia şi Facultatea TCM Universitatea Braşov.
Păun Cornelia a debutat ca scriitoare în Revue de culture, critique et imagination „Asymetria”, Franţa, ca poetă şi colaboratoare în cadrul revistei „Agero-Stuttgart” Germania, Magazin cultural și de informație și al Agenţiei de Presă Nürnberg. Este membru al presei internaţionale şi al “Poetas del Mundo”, editează "ANTHOLOGIEMULTILINGUA", fiind prezentă în Encyclopedie Poetry USA şi în mai multe Antologii ale scriitorilor şi poeţilor din întreaga lume printre care: ” L’Anthologie des Poèmes d’amour francophones”, 2013, “Antologia de la poesia castellana”, 2014, Espana, “Arte poética” Antologia de la Poesia Universal, AMERICA LATINA, 2014, “Antologia Escritoras del Mundo Siglo XXI”, 2014, Antologia “Poesia de mujer del Mundo”, 2015, “Antologia Scriitorilor Români de pe toate continentele”, „Antologia Universală a Poeziei Româneşti Contemporane” – „Meridiane Lirice – Aripi de Vis”, „EPOSS Meridiane” - “Antologia de proză scurtă contemporană a românilor de pretutindeni, 2013, Antologia „Poetare”, 2016, Antologia de Lirica Universala, Antologia de la Poesia Italiana, 2016.
A fost redactor colaborator la un ziar cotidian românesc și este colaborator permanent la diferite reviste și publicații străine din străinătate, publicând lunar în reviste de cultură de prestigiu din Spania, reviste universitare de literatură din Spania şi din ţări ale Americii Latine: Revista de Creatión Literaria y Humanidades “Gibralfaro”, Universidad de MÁlaga, España, Faculdad de Ciencias de la Educación, Departamento de Didáctica de las Lenguas y las Artes, revista digitales de cultura „Letras DE PARNASO”, España , Revista de „Relatos, Poemas, Novelas”, España , “Excelsior“ Mexico, Revista digital de promocion cultural “El Universo del BÚHO“ Mexicó, “EsteponaViva”, Narrativa Poesia COSTA DEL SOL, "Matematicas y Poesia", España, Revista Internacional de criterio actual „Redyaccion”, Columbia, “Poetas del Mundo” Chile, „Poetas del Mundo” Chile, “Palabras MÁS” Bolivia, “Panfleto negro” Venezuela - Revista literaria con textos, fotos, críticas de cine, música y libros, Redfederal publicaţia literară a Ministerului Educaţiei din Argentina, „Literature 21st century” Miami, USA&Cuba din Malaezia: „Pantouns Sayang”, „Letras de Malaisie” şi din Canada „Atheneum”, „L’Alternative” „Confluenţe literare” Australia, "Poesía contemporánea", Poesía Extranjera en Español , España, „Cortorelatos” España, “Mundo Literaria“, “Poematrix”, “Poemas del alma”, “Latino Poemas”, “Soypoesia”, “Metapoesia”, “Poesia en català”, “LasPoesia”. A publicat în "Odiseu en el Erebo" – Poemas, Ensazos, Teatro, Resenas, Critica Literara, El Salvador, „Laberinto de Torogoz – Tierra de CUSCATLÁN”, “Divan del escriba”, “Vate a la antigua, “El cinescopio”, “Laberinto de Lluvia”, “Starmedia America Latina”, “Un alma navegante”, Argentina, "Poetasdehoy" Argentina, „Ficticia”–„Ciudad de Cuentos y Historia”, „Sopa de Relatos”
A publicat în reviste literare franceze din Franţa : Revue littéraire de poesie contemporaine, France, „Le Capital de Mots”, Revue littéraire de poesie, „L’Autobus”, „Poèmes d’amour France”, PoemesFrance, Poésie d’amour, Les Tribulations d’Eric Dubois Poesie, „Les poèmes de la littérature francophone” - France, "Les Poetes" France
Reviste de cultură italiene din Italia: “Gazetin Tellusfolio” / “Bottega Letteraria”, “Rossa Venexiano”, “Racconti”, “Poetare”, “Poesia Nueva”, “Oggiscrivo”, “Scrivere”, "Poesia italiana", "La cassa della poesia" Italia.
Revista de literatură din India: Review „TAJ MAHAL”
„ESTORIES” Tallin, Estonia, „Family Friends Poets” USA
Islande “Poem Treasure”, ”Poetfreak”USA
din diasporă: „Romanian Pages in New Zealand”, Noua Zeelandă, Revista de literatură „Onyx”, Dublin, Irlanda, din U.S.A.: revista „Clipa„ USA, "Gândacul de Colorado”, " Lumea Românească", “Clubul Presei Transatlantice”, Washington, din Canada: “Observatorul” Toronto, Revista "RadioMetafora" Montreal, „Destine Literare”, Revista Internaţională „Starpress”-Română-Canadiano-Americană,
din Germania revista"Prolitera”, „Agero-Stuttgart” , Magazin cultural și de informație și al Agenţiei de Presă NÜRNBERG, "Asii Romani"
din România: „Ardealul literar”, „Caiete Silvane, „Oglinda literară”, „Regatul cuvântului”, „Sfera Eonică”, revista de cultura „Omniscop”, „News4Diaspora”, „13 Plus” „Armonii Culturale” - Revistă universală de creație și atitudine culturală, „Revista Singur”, Revistă de cultură, civilizație și atitudine morală, "Slova Crestina", „Melidonium”, Revistă de cultură, arte, tradiții, credință, istorie, educație, Revista "Hategworld","Magazin Salajan", "Zalau" TV », "Portal Carte şi Arte", "Lupul dacic", “Versuri şi poezii“, "Cetatea lui Bucur".
Poemele lui Cornelia Păun au fost traduse de personalităţi culturale din întreaga lume în: franceză, germană, engleză, italiană, japoneză, rusă, arabă, portugheză, olandeză, suedeză, greacă, catalană, persană, turcă, polonă, letónă, cehă, maghiară, sârbă, búlgară, albaneză, slovenă, azeră, georgiană, aromână, chineză, indiană, ebraică, kurdă, urdu.
Povestirile scriitoarei Cornelia Păun au fost traduse în spaniolă, franceză, engleză, rusă, italiană şi greacă.
Cărți de specialitate publicate:
A publicat primul Manual al calității unei unități de învățământ , (Editura Printech, 2006), şase cărţi de specialitate: Contribuții la cercetarea elastodinamica o mecanismelor robotilor industriali, Teza de doctorat, (Editura Universității Politehnice București,1998); Proiectul la discipline tehnice (Editura Printech, 2003); Teste de Organe de mașini și mecanisme pentru Bacalaureat (Editura Printech, 2003); Metoda jocurilor în învățământ (Editura Printech, 2010); Contribuții la cercetarea elastodinamica o mecanismelor robotilor industriali, rezumatul tezei de doctorat, (Editura Universității Politehnice București, 1998 şi peste două sute de articole.
Literatură: A publicat un volum bilingv de proză scurtă "El cartero nunca más llama dos veces" o "Sueños ... sueños ... sueños" / "Poştaşul un mai sună de două ori" sau "Visuri… visuri… visuri…" şi altele sunt în curs de apariţie: “El laberinto de las enigmas”, “The Transatlantic Dreams”, “Η στροφή του πεπρωμένου”,“Amour criminal” .
Biografie
Cornelia Păun s-a născut la Brașov, tatăl fiind inginer electronist la Regionala Căi Ferate Brașov și mama profesoară de limba română. În școală a fost întotdeauna premianta întâi și olimpică la matematică. A absolvit Colegiul „Dr. Ioan Meșotă” din Brașov, secția de Matematică Fizică, la care a fost admisă luând la concursul de admitere nota 10 la proba de matematică și 9,50 la limba română, cea mai mare notă la această probă. A fost în continuare premiantă și olimpică la matematică.
Dragostea pentru cărţi a moştenit-o de la bunicul său, din partea mamei, profesor de filozofie (fiu de preot) şi de la mama sa, profesoară de limba română. Când a mers la şcoală la şase ani, deja citise toate cărţile din casă, care erau foarte multe şi care aveau ca autori cei mai renumiţi scriitori din literatura universală. Bunicul său cunoştea limba greacă veche, limba latină, limba franceză, limba germană, limba italiană, limba spaniolă şi spre sfârşitul vieţii a învăţat singur limba engleză. A învăţat de mică limba germană în casă , de la bunica din partea mamei, Elsa Heizel, care provenea dintr-o familie austriacă cu tatăl fost ofițer la Curtea Împăratului de la Viena.
After lunch the group continued
climbing. Although it was very hot,snow was everywhere around them. Mihai came
to help Camelia. Now, it seemed that she trusted only him. He was a well-built
man and Camelia was climbing grabbing his thick as tree trunk legs. On the out
journey, she avoided to walk near Mihai. Gabi was a bit jealous and she didn”t
want to upset her friend. Camelia knew she was very beautiful. She had thought
about her colleague not to think it was a big deal. But now she didn”t care
anymore. She just wanted to reach back home. Up, on the top of the mountain, Maria,
Liviu”s wife had a nervous breakdown.
”Look what happened to us because we
took begginers with us!
Tommorrow I will have classes at
school, at 8 o”clock and I will be late, if we do not catch the first train,
the Busteni Station. And I have a board meeting as well!”
”But it is our fault,said Mihai. This
road was due to be with ropes.
For us, mountain climbers with
experience, it was easy. We did not think about the others in the group. Next
time we go we should be more careful.
Now, we were lucky nothing bad
happened. I do not even want to think about what might happened.”
After staying half an hour outside in
the snow, directly after the sun light, Camelia had a hypothermic shock and
shook for a couple of minutes.
Same happened to Roland....Probably
it was the shock after what happened.
Then they immediately got over it, at
Maria”s shouts: ”Let”s move, fast!”
Camelia got over the road down the
peak of the mountain following Michael”s thick legs, which she caught shaking,
desperate, as if it was the only way through which she wouldn”t slip in any
mysterious mountains steep.
”I will take care of you!” said tall
Mihai. Camelia did not think that something dangerous could happened on the
mountain. Something so wonderful like the mountain, she was thinking, could”t
be dangerous. Even after the accident, seemed that all that happened to her was
just a dream.
Only the injuries she had on the skin
got her back to reality. Luckily she got her T-shirt before the falling. She
wasn”t injured at any internal organ.
Only near the temple, a rock hit her
a bit and a fine spring of blood was running down her face.
They got in the train and Camelia was
very hungry. But it was only some bacon left. Usually, Camelia doesn”t eat
bacon, but now she thaught it was so good. They finished all the bread as well.
In the station, in Brasov, her mum and her sister were waiting for her.
”Camelia?! Did something happen to
you? I had a hunch in the morning.” Her mum asked.
”No, no. Said Camelia fast. It was
all alright.”
Camelia wanted to go again in another
trips and that”s why she avoided telling the truth to her mother. When they
arrived near the local hospital, Camelia told her mother in a slow voice:
”You know...mum...I fell a little bit
on the mountain and I need a doctor to see me!”
At the emergencies, the young doctor
smiled when he saw Camelia and said to her:”What are you doing here young lady?
Did you got hurt again? You should”ve come with me. I would protected you. You
wouldn”t have got hurt. If you did not accept my invitation to the spectacle
look what happened to you!”
A night before, Camelia had washed a
bottle with milk and the water had come with such pressure that both the thick
bottle and the sink broke. Some pieces of glass got though in her leg and her
mother told her to go to a hospital for an antitetanos. It was the same doctor
there. Three days in a row something happened to Camelia. Just a night before
she was in a car when, in the turning road to Radacau from the county hospital,
a jeep almost teared the car apart.
“I went to
the mountain and fell, said Camelia embarrassed to the doctor.”
He had to disinfect
the wounds because the pebbles entered in the beck and arms. She was lucky that
it wasn't something serious..... “I told you not to go on the mountain ,
because it's dangerous, said her mother.”
The next days,
Camelia found out from Gabriela that Ronald told her that he fell after her to
save her. He was a climber performance. There is however the possibility
to fall, because he was with street shoes and these ones were falling in the
snow. However, after his reaction it looked like he was the victim.But if she
hadn't met him at thetrain station, if Liviu hadn't called also him on the
mountain and if he hadn't come, Camelia wouldn't have tried – when he fell in
the abyss – to stop and who knows what would have happened..... The ravine
which they fell off had also a predestined name, “ The Devil's Ravine”,
because most of the people found their end in it, being a straight wall of
rock, which began exactly where it stopped.
The next day,
Camelia woke up like nothing special happened the day before. As usual, Camelia
was walking on foot by the University, as she did when she was a student. She
wasn't planning to go with the trolley. She was leaving on the central bulevard
and she was used to arrive fast in the centre of the city, where they were and
the bodies of the universities. The route was so nice that made her dream.
She was entering in
the lab. The sunlights were overflowing in the waterfall, by the giant windows
that were occupying almost all the outer wall. In front, the tallest students
in that year were sitting in the first place. She figure it out that they left
intentionaly. Probably they found out that a person who have just finished
college was coming. Camelia was younger than her students because she started
school at five years old and a half and also because students went to the army
before they started college. Fair hearly, supple, with the face of a doll, with
big, black eyes and a small mouth, Camelia have always known that she have
looked smaller than her age she had. In winter, she found a solution for this
problem: she got dressed with her new coat, three quarters,with blac nutria and
polar fox cap.
The course was on
the second semestre, on the second year of college. During the seminar, they
found that the advices of her coordunating teacher, Mr. Toia, were helpful for
her. He told her to remember also the partial and final calculation results of
the resolvet problems, inside of the coordinating seminar, in order to check
the correcteness of solve.By that way she could also economy time and see
immediately any mistake that a student has done at the blackboard. She knew
that just the best ones elected this specialization, not to go through some any
forgotten place in the world, because the governmental repairs were very
goodfor the ones who were graduating this university – most of the jobs in the
county!
Cernauţi
love
By dr. Cornelia Paun Henzel
Traduction: Ion Radu Bădescu
Sometimes your destiny can launch you to realms
that you would never even dream to know.
Nicolae passed the ,,Filozophy”, but in the last
year of college studies, a money and econonomy
crisis started wich affected the entire world with unemployment,
bankcruptcy and social crisis. The world war has made all the people to get
poor. Academics, the highly educated people were the most affected. But the
university graduate had the worst situation as they saw their wishes and dreams broken when
finish the studies. For a guard job they
had to present to a contest a Medicin graduate, a Letter graduate, a builder
and an Right graduate.
If he would listen to his father who is a
churchman, Nicolae would had more chanses. But when he went t register to the
college, he took his file in the Teology, where his parent registered him, and
Nicolae applied at Filozophy.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………..
On the
street Nicolae met a friend:
-We have one more chance! I heard that the
military are making cast in the army. Let’ s try that! We don’t have a better
option! Told the friend to Nicolae.
-And where are we gonna go?
-We meet tomorrow at ten in the front of the
University. Be ready!
Nicolae went back home fast. It was the day
before the born of Ioan. Involuntary, he started singing churcher songs, songs
that remembered him about the old times when he was a child. Nicolae had a nice
voice, also!
In the garden the proprietary, Ms. Matilda was praying. The doctor, Emil started
laughing:
-But what are you doing Ms. Matilda?
- It’s the born of Ioan and the churchman is
coming! What, you don’t hear him?!
-That’s Nicolae, ms. Matilda, he’s my
roommate!said Emil
-But… What…How ? He sings so well! He has a very
nice voice!
-You don’t know that his father is a churchman?
That’s why he knows all the church songs very well.
- But why he isn’t a church man, too?
-He didn’t want! Everyone has his own talent!
Next day Nicolae has been accepted in the army
because of his very worked body. He
solved his problem with the job in this mode! Not in the same way he wanted to,
but in a crisis time was the only possibility for him. He could study the
Flozophy in his free time. And when the crisis will stop, he will become a
teacher, as he wanted to. Untill that time he could read a lot of books and write,
as he was used to do from the time he was a child. He wrote even a monography
of his village after he found important
informations about it. The place was built by Tudor Vladimirescu’s soldiers.
The life in the army was hard for college man,
like Nicolae. But his atlethic body made
him to pass these things.
The armymates talk much about him and what they
spoke rich to the colonel of the unity, Berezoianu, who asked to see him:
-Bratu, is that true you studied the Filozophy and you know the old greek
language?
-Yes sir!
-In this afternoon you are invited at my place!
You are invited at lunch! It is an order.said Brezoianu.
Very shy, Bratu showed at colonel’s place. After
the lunch, the colonel asked for Nicolae in his office.
-So, I want to tell me about the new editorial apearance.
What’s your opinion? What new book that appeared was interesting to you? asked
Brezoianu.
And they talk a lot about filozophy.
-Bratu, don’t forget, here you are Bratu, the
filozoph, but in the camp you are Bratu, the soldier. Good bye! I liked to talk
with you!
In that summer Nicolae riched Cernauti with his
battalion. The town was beautiful. The people called it the little “Viena”. It
had a very interesting story. The sharming city represented one of the most
important urban towns from Romania. The Cernauti has made bigger when the
Habsburgic family controlled the area. With a commune past and traditions, the
cechs and the austriac man transformed Cernauti into a modern city.
Nicolae was impressed by the city, wich was a
modern city, full of sculptures, natural beauties, green parks and nice squares
to visit. In Cernauti you can see all the architectural stiles that existed in
the last centuries in Europe. As an old lover of art and beauty, Nicolae loved
to walk to the wonderful streets of Cernauti, to watch the stiles, from
Napoleon to the melody lines of the baroc.
He liked the buildings in exbrancovean stile- a
continue of the austriac fashion-as the Sf. Nicolae church, the place which
ornamental compose, this stile has complete nice with some of the elements of
the italian Renaissance and specific romanian procedures. The brancovean buildings and un roumanian
ones were recognize
immediate from their
beauty and decorations that remind him about the original roumanian stile,
about the clothes of the boors from his village and after the big and half
round crowns
DR. 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…
Through collapsed walls, at the beginning of a typical deformed street,
miserable figures, broken, with shady faces…
Your mind flies to Dante, travelling through one of Hell’s rings. One he
did not find yet. An earthly Hell…
A playful little girl is
being chased by a mad dog, like a hellhound. His bark attracts other pack of
dogs nearby. The dogs are surrounding her and jump at her throat, showing their
white sharp teeth. They suffocate her with their huge paws. But then, suddenly
a man throws a stick at them. He screams and they run away in fear…
In front of them lays a
church. And the same strange crowded architecture is distinguished, the
sidedoors are newly painted but the walls are ancient, chaoticaly shelled,
pierced violently by the modern central heating pipe, recently installed on
which on a headboard says “HISTORICAL MONUMENT”.
My thoughts runs
nostalgically to the poor old people, who live in the old houses, still staying
in one piece, which are probably filled with valuable books and art pieces, the
same as the architectural elements which are carved on the outside, to the fear
in which they live in daily, powerless in front of danger. Because Jean
Valjean’s little group from the park seemed really courageous. They seemed to
have a really big purpose…
We arrived nearby the house
for sale a half an hour earlier. We then decided to go look for it, after the
clues that our salesman gave to us: its age, the type of architecture, the
aspect. Assuming the information corresponded with the reality.
Two huge houses looked liked in the description. We studied them
from afar. Especially because in one of them, because someone was watching us
from behind some lacy yellow curtains. We couldn’t tell who it was. We thought
it’s an older person.
Isabela was thoughtful. Her
thoughts traced back yesterday. How much she wanted for everything to be real!
For her o buy the apartment. She daydreamed about everything that happened.
…………………………………………………………………………………..
Paul was waiting for her at
the hospital. He saw Isabela rushing out and nervously greeted her telling her
the news:
- I found out something amazing! I found a house
to buy!
Isabela didn’t reply and stared coldly at him, absent.
- Isabela, did you heard me? I found a house! Paul
repeated.
As if she woke up, she finally replied:
- A huse? You found something to buy? But can we
afford it? She asked.
- Yes! It has a fair price! He said gladly.
- And where is it? Isabela asked doubtful.
- Here, a few blocks away. I talked to the real
estate man and he said we could go see it on Monday. I only know the name of
the street.
- Let’s go check it out now! She impatiently said.
We’ll figure it out!
- Alright! Paul agreed. We’ll go now if you want!
They strolled around a few streets, went across the boulevard and got on
a little street.
- Look, an older house! Could this be it? But,
isn’t it too big? The ground floor and the first floor are empty. Although,
look, there’s an old woman in the attic watching us? Paul said.
They both looked to the window, studying carefully at the same time, the
building. On the ground floor the windows were recently attached and they were
strongly in contrast with the rest of the building. It was recently painted,
but the floors were covered with peeling plaster, in a degrading state. If you
looked at the attic, you didn’t need much imagination to see it being crushed
by any move. It just freaked you out! You felt as if in the next moment it
could fall on your head! The old woman ran away scared from the window.
- Let’s see other houses. Maybe we’ll guess which
is ours! Isaela said. It couldn’t be this one!
After they left the street, the house resembled more and more the
description they were given.
- We’ll find out on Monday which one is it, Paul
said. We should be a little patient!
- Alright, she agreed.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
The real estate agent
called us instead and he suddenly appeared with his car at the meeting point.
We drove away home together. In front of the house, we saw a corpulent woman
around her fifties, with olive skin and a long dyed black-bluish hair waiting
for us. She was with a young fat boy, with features that implied he was
mentally retarded.
The woman aggressively
introduced herself s a stomatologist from a village around Bucharest, where she
said she lived with her son. We felt a little trustful because of her
shady-looking face.
- We have a villa in construction! Said the woman.
And this is my son. He studied medicine, in a private institution, she said.
While he was a student, we bought this apartment from the house, which I now
want to sell.
We entered the yard. The
exterior of the house looked pretty well for its passing through ages.
- It would’ve been better if it was near the
street! Isabela pointed out.
In the yard, pieces of some
sideway and garbage was thrown around.
We each climbed on some narrow spiral
stairs, to the first floor of the house. A glass door, recently installed
appeared in front of us. The real estate agent opened it.
The apartment was
relatively small, compared to the rooms we were used to and in which we lived.
But they were our parents houses. The old interior was packed with windows, new
ceramic tiles, modern sanitary installations. The price was however acceptable.
- The lady upstairs wants this apartment. But we
don’t want to sell it to her. Don’t talk to her! She’s sort of insane, the
shady lady said.
- What about the notary? Isabela asked.
- You could choose it. We have our own. And
lawyers, and connections… We could do the paperwork at them. If you want, of
course!
- No, no! We’d better choose the notary! Isabela
said, so she could know for sure that the transaction would be made correctly.
Many of the people she knew said they got into trouble with the notary men.
Even a friend who worked as a notar told her about other situations where other
notaries made false paperwork.
When they wanted to leave,
the curvaceous lady gave them a CD with some music on it.
- This is the CD with my recordings on it. I am
very passionate about music. I sang at a TV show once, the woman said to us.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
After three days, Isabela
calls me again:
- Hello! Tomorrow I’ll buy the house! I already
paid in advance! I signed the precontract, she told me in a rush.
- Is everything okay? I asked. Better be careful,
you could easily get tricked!
- Yes, I saw some of these scamming cases on TV.
- Were you careful about the notary?
- We were the ones who chose her, she replied.
- A colleague from university told me how he and a
friend made an estate company, immediately after the Revolution and stole each
house from the people who called them. People trusted them and gave them the
contracts to sell their proprieties. They didn’t even think about being
scammed! They only saw this in movies! I told Isabela.
- And now I suppose your colleague is very
wealthy, she replied.
- No way! His friend ran away with all the money
and my friend got stuck with all the debts, I clarified to her.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………..
Paul and Isabela got back from visiting the house. The next day they had
to sign the contracts.
- Isabela, we need to talk to the neighbors, to
analyze the situation. With the only neighbor we saw, we can’t talk. And even
the owners told us not to talk to her. Let’s see about the others. Because,
every time we wandered around here, we never saw anyone, except that weird
neighbor. Isn’t it strange? Paul said.
They entered through the front door. They got up the ground floor stairs
and they found an iron door newly installed. An identical door to the one they
first saw, shown by the real estate agent. Some blue pieces of plastic that
were used to wrap it were on its surface, the same as on the other one. They
knocked and ringed at the door but no one answered. At the first floor, there
was a door that looked exactly the same! They knocked on it, ringer, called at
the door. Again, no results. Paul and Isabela were so shocked, they didn’t even
say a word. They didn’t even confess their thoughts, as they usually did. Maybe
because they really wanted a house for themselves… And far until now they only
found scammers. Paul’s mother tried buying him an apartment in Bucharest from
when he was a student. But she didn’t succeed. She either found teenagers who
wanted to steal the house and the money and agents who were the same. “How can
some people find some real house to buy, or even an apartment?” Paul always
asked himself. “Maybe you have to buy it from people you really know or have
serious connections with the real estate agents”, he thought. Some really could
make some transactions. But how many are those who got scammed! An older
colleague from university told him that an old student, married to someone who
worked at a television program were tricked and couldn’t solve anything. Even
their neighbor, headmistress at a high-school got scammed. She bought an
apartment in a residential complex and pays a large amount of money. When she
saw she didn’t have any chance of ever moving into the apartment, she wanted to
solve the problem through justice. But the whole process was useless because
the contract was so well made by the society’s lawyers who sold the apartment,
so they weren’t forced to pay back anything, although they got the money for
the building.
Paul and Isabela put the thought of owning an apartment away. And still,
now they seem to have the chance of getting a right transaction. Paul searched
again for real estate sales, forced by the circumstances from the secondary
home in which they lived in, because some people were renovating it. “So, this
chance”, Paul thought, seemed at the right moment.
Isabela and Paul went down and then went in the second part of the
building in which their apartment was at…
- Let’s try in the neighborhood, Paul said.
They bought got out on the street and saw the school nearby the
building.
- Could we try here? Paul asked. And they bought
headed to the entrance. At the door, there were two middle-aged women.
- If you don’t mind, do you know the history about
that building next door? Isabela asked politely. We’ll buy an apartment there.
We even paid in advance, she joyfully said, not capable of hiding her
happiness.
- I’ve been working in this school for many year –
one of the women said. The building was an issue but it was won by an old man
who seemed to be the previous owner. The tenant filed a trial against him, but
it’s known she lost. The old man had two girls. The first one got the front
side, I don’t know what the other one did. The thing I know it’s not right is
that, the old man lives and they declared him dead, to do the contracts on
their name. The apartment from the back is actually empty. In reality they had
him hospitalized in an asylum near Bucharest.
Paul and Isabela immediately thought she talked about their apartment.
- The empty apartment is ours! They both said.
- Tell me, please, the owner is the one who
legally owns the house? Isabela asked curiously.
- Oh, no! the older woman said. The owner was a
big communist! When the communists gained the power, he only had the first four
grades. He was only a carpenter. But the government needed people like him. The
man helped them punish the higher class enemies. As a reward he was made a
colonel. For his services he got this house, after it was nationalized. Not
anyone owned a house this big! About its real owner, no one knows anything.
He’s most surely dead…
- Didn’t he have any children? Maybe they’ll claim
the house, Paul asked.
- Ah… They’re an old story. The owner had a son
for whom he cared about a lot. When he was in university he fell in love with a
colleague, the daughter of a priest and wanted to marry her. His parents didn’t
agree at all! They said he should choose a countryside girl, if he wants a good
future. Maybe this is how they could also save the house as well. The daughters
of workers and countryside men were going to university even without finishing
high-school. They went to university to learn how to work better. The daughter
of the priest was very intelligent but it was for nothing. There were only a
few places at university for people like her. Children were rushing to take a
place, ten on a single spot. Even if she graduated it, he would’ve had a hard
life. The young man didn’t listen though. She loved Alina too much. They
married without waiting for their parents consent. And then, in the first night
they announced their parents about the marriage, something terrible happened.
At night, when the two lovers were asleep, they were killed in their sleep with
a hammer… Since then people say the house is haunted by ghosts. You can always
hear terrifying weeping sounds during the night.
- Such a tragedy! Paul and Isabela screamed. Thank
you a lot for the informations! They both said.
“So strange” Paul thought. Why was the story such a shock to him? A
shock which sort of woke him up from an amnesia. Why did he have the feeling
that he knew the story from a long time ago? Maybe because it happened to him?
His parents didn’t agree to his marriage to Isabela. They wanted a communist’s
daughter, a neighbor. But she wasn’t as pretty nor as smart as Isabela. Plus,
before 1989, the daughter of the communist didn’t study after the 8th
grade and she couldn’t go to school after that. However, after the Revolution,
the communist made her go to night classes and she got an university diploma, a
private one, opened in a small apartment by another communist he worked with.
After that, with money, his daughter was employed at the Prosecution.
Paul thought that his friend Michael, has a pretty good life because he
has a different affiliation. And because his affiliation boss didn’t bring his
family. He clarified to him that Michael wasn’t happier than him. The
professor, the head of the department has other weaknesses. He brought his
loved ones whom he promoted. He can’t even stand Michael because he was the
head of the promotion. Paul once curiously asked, if his loved one were single.
And he found out something surprising! They were all married, with children, as
the professor, just for façade! No one should’ve suspected anything. However,
many know the truth…
His thoughts were interrupted by Isabela’s melodious voice
- What is life interest? She asks.
- Let’s ask the notary lady, we found her after
all, he said.
- Let’s ask her through the phone! She said.
- But first, let’s talk to the real estate agent.
Then we’ll go to the Town Hall to see if the death of the old man is recorded
in there. Paul took the phone and dialed the number.
- Hello, we are the couple with the selling house.
We found out the old owner isn’t dead. We’ll go to the Town Hall to find out.
- Yes, he is alive! But don’t you dare follow the
tracks! The real estate agent said threatening them. If you check something,
we’ll get really pissed! We’ll talk tomorrow at the notary, when we’ll meet!
And she hung up angrily. Paul stared at the phone surprised.
- Let’s talk to the notary lady too, Isabela
encouraged him.
- Hello, we’re the apartment buyers, scheduled for
tomorrow. We found out someone has life interest on the propriety. What does
this mean? The first owner still lives, although he was declared dead, by the
daughters.
- If there is a life interest, the contract has no
value anymore. But I think the old man is dead. And even if he’s not, if they
have the deceased contracts, why would it matter? We’ll meet tomorrow to
complete the paperwork, the woman said forcefully. I will not accept any rejection!
But who told you?
- The real estate agent himself! Isabela answered.
I think the notary woman will call the real estate agent and tell him we
know that the old man lives and teaches him how to lie. Not to admit he is
alive, Paul said.
Paul and Isabela got back to the apartment. They already brought a lot
of things, because the owners told them that they could move in. They already
paid in advance. Paul had a crazy idea that night.
- Let’s stay here tonight! We have the armchairs
and other things we brought in. It’s a good thing that the son of that lady let
us bring these in here! I’m pretty tired from today! I had a rough day at
university! What do you say? Paul suggested.
- Alright, if you want, Isabela agreed. At least
we could check what we bought. But is it alright? Wait a minute, let’s look
over the pre-contract. What was the name of the on the old man sold the
apartment to the first time? Look, his wife Madelene. Didn’t the lady at the
school told us that one of the daughters was called Mady? He sold the apartment
to the son-in-law! Isabela said.
- Let’s see who made the selling contract. For
sure he is dead, Paul said while opening his laptop to find out.
- Yes, the notary man is deceased! The next
contract? The second notary man couldn’t be dead, the one who completed the
selling contract from the son-in-law to the woman with the olive skin, he
screamed in excitement.
- The second one is surely dead, Isabela said.
It’s very clear. The contracts aren’t alright.
- Isabela, the second one is dead too! It’s a
notary woman actually! Paul exclamated.
- We got scammed again, Isabela said disappointed.
Tomorrow morning we’ll get our things out of here. And we’ll call off the sale!
I’ll call the driver who helped us get these things here, right now to get them
out.
They fell asleep, sad about the stressful day they had. At 1am they wore
awoken by some terrifying screams. Isabela began trembling.
- Don’t worry, you’re with me, paul said. But he
felt the cold shivers through his body as well. His eyes rapidly headed to the
hammer he saw thrown on the floor the first time they came here, as a solution…
- What is it? Isabela whispered, scared.
- Maybe it’s a mad woman nearby, Paul tried to
calm her down.
But the screams started to sound louder, creepier. They didn’t believe
the ghost story, but now…
- Maybe there’s someone in the attic! There where
the iron door was at, the same as ours and the ones around the house.
- But it’s a horrible story…Isabela whispered,
trembling out of fear.
- Ah, do you still believe in stories? Paul tried
smiling. But his grin was forced, limited by fear.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
In the morning, at 10 am the
phone rings.
- It’s me, Maria! I’m sorry, do you know anything
about Isabela? I can’t find her since last night, neither her nor Paul. I went
to their house in the morning and none answered! They don’t even their phone!
Not one or the other! The woman said worrying.
Maria was Isabela’s mom, a doctor, like her daughter.
- I understood that they remained in the apartment
they wanted to buy! Isabela called me last night, I answered.
- Yes, but why don’t they do now? The woman asked.
- I don’t know, try again! I’ll try too! I told
her.
- Do you have a little time, though? Maria asks me
desperately.
- I have classes with my students from 11, I told
her.
- Please, come with me to the apartment! She
begged me.
- Alright, I agreed.
After an hour we were on the little street. The strange house seemed
impossible to defin geometrically in x, z, y coordinates, accessible only
through introducing a certain code that only some people know. And the strange
iron doors, identical… However, I soon saw the front side of the house. Maria
was waiting for me at the entrance. I got in the small yard and I opened the
door to the inside of the building. We climbed the spiral stairs to the first
floor and in front of us was the iron door. We knocked on it, we rang…plain
silence. Then, Maria touched the handle and the door slowly opened. A hammer
covered in a liquid as red as blood was thrown in the way. On the couch, Paul and
Isabela were engulfed by a sweet endless sleeped. The white sheets seemed
covered in red rose petals that lit up like fire. They seemed painted in a
dreamy red purplish colour, as blood…
Maria fainted in front of me. I then took my phone and rang.
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...
from the t
op of the buildings.
Dr. Cornelia Păun Heinzel: “Déjà vu”
Translation: Andrei Pavel
If
someone would have told me that it is ever possible to go back in time , I
would not belive him. But look , in one day, I lived such a depiction, in a
real mode.
In
the morning, when I arrived at the body name ,, Lyon'', of the Polytechnic
University, my head of department told me immediately how he see me:
-Valeanu,
today you go with the students to practice today at company. The bus it's
coming right the way to take you to the location.
I
immediately complied the indications and i got out in the yard University. The
students, cheerful and talkative, they waiting for me near the bus. I told them
to climb and I did the same thing. I occupied a place in the middle of the
vehicle.
-Come
in the front! the driver bus invited me, an old man with cute figure.
-Yes
, yes , go there! says students , who believed that my presence with them, will
prevent them from doing nonsense.
-No,
I want to stay here, I said, thinking that I always like more between students
and I feel good with them.
Buses
run smoothly streets of the capital, until get out of Bucharest. Then I was
dumbfounded. I thought we were going to a company in Bucharest. I did not know
that the company is out of town. Soon appear cultivate fields with cereals with
the specifice rural zone.On the roadside occasionally guarding lost a fruit
tree.Soon I entered the first village. The settlement was full of stately
mansions builted one after another. Appeared a mall. I didn't see it until then
in a rural area such a building of this size and with this intended primary
destinations.
Our
way continues on the road, on the
crossed area fields. At one point, I went off it and took it on a country road.
I thought that is the end of the road. But he wasn't like that. The bus took on
the field, to the stubble. And so crossed, appeared a several minutes a strange
buildings from some strange sheet metal
construction, like the old shacks of the workers from construction, but more
clean.
The
bus it's stop.
-Okay,
we reached our destination, says the old man. Get out of the car!
I
arrived immediately in front of the buildings. One was open sliding door
vertically like a car garages. I step in and a elegant lady, dressed in suit
and she streach one hand manly and she said with loud voice:
-I'm
Marilena Ionescu, manager of the Ancient Electronix. Welcome! I hope you enjoy
our company.
-Dan
Mihai Valeanu I said and I turned my eyes with curiosity, to find a chair where
i didn't agate or dirty clothes because the seats were in an advanced stage of
wear, such is no longer in currently the country. All the experience of over
twenty-five years have been scrapped. There were chairs from another era.
Socialist era!
The
women had guess my thoughts.
-You
can sit there in my seat, she said, showed me in a corner a chair more elegant
but the earlier era.
I
settle on the director's seat, leather, swivel. And then he pointed scartain
under my weight. I was scared I might fall and I studied to see if it resist.
Students
knew what to do.They had been here several times. They entered in the cabin and
they changed in blue robes, which was printed company name 'Ancient Electronix'
From
where I sit, we were wide view over a large area. And what I saw then, I was
captured with everything. The hangar also have floor. From there, some heads
appeared indecent wich studying me with curiosity. They were clerks in the
firm's accounting financinar compartment, located upstairs on a carrier sheet
which climb upstairs on the metal sheet...
Looking
around me I realise that such a place had seen only in communism. Todays
companies have a completely different look, with another equipments.
Worktops,
old, were arranged in parallel rows just like in the workshops of the socialist
era. In the huge hangar at the numerous tables and chairs, as ancient, they
were distributed dozen workers who stuck bored electronic components on boards
textolit. Occasionally, some walking around slowly, without an end, others went
with a air bored,to the coffee dispenser. That thing a dind't see it as a
student, before the revolution. Unbelievable! It had been twenty-five years and
this place was unchanged. Nothing had changed! The work atmosphere, furniture,
layout of arrangement people dressed the same with the same attitude ... even
hangar with sliding door, metal stairs, the floor with the same floor was the
same.
I
realized at one point that the furniture enclosure it was known by me.It was
the same when I took my practice in the students years. Tables, chairs, bench
vices and dispozitiv equipped with gripping parts, machinery I knew. It was
also bending machine and guillotine shears for cutting sheet metal, galvanic
baths where is sinking textolit pads. I noticed then, paradoxically, that the
people were the same. But they had other figures over the passage of time it's
mark - their hair was white and sparse, the faces where furrowed by wrinkles
more and less, per persone but others showed a prominent belly or excessive had
weakened that become filiarial. Abated even in height, entered to water.I look
every face reminding me how they looks about a quarter of a century with traits
that still keeps unchanged, eyes, softer, who lost in liveliness, head and face
shape and of course the mode of employers wich were.
It
was lunch time and they had drawn all their sufertasele stew, just like Ceausescu.
I didn't sow it before, someone coming
to the service, the food - it was stewed potatoes, tomatoes. Someone of them had some pork bones, witch a little
pork meat .It was the same that the workers served after the meat disappeared
from nutritions people and was given only on ration.
At
the specific electronics and computer firms, usually in present they
served catering products currently serve
or fast food,cola Maybe occasionally, there is a someone who takes from home a fruit a salad a sandwich.
The
students had found coffee dispenser and they didn't leave it. The products
price was very small so they introducing continuously coins selecting tea and
coffee.
-Mr
'teacher! Mister teacher! Come! It's cheap! Take a coffee, a student said and
she handing me a plastic cup with steaming coffee.
-Thank
you, I drunk at home, I said.I dont drink more coffee then one in a day.
-But
there is no problem, mr teacher. We drink five and we have nothing. It taste
special. It is not like the usual,witch we drink every day.
In
that moment, the steaming of coffee witch was give it to me enterd in my nose
who instantly expands ,for investigate and I realise that it was a smell and i
didn't smell it a long time ago. It was old coffee smell of chicory so called
nechezol.
I
curiously came near to dispenser and I recognized. Was the same dispenser witch
we request when me and my colegs students being at the practice hours.
Unbelievable!
I thought. These people brought their furniture, equipment, vehicles, metal
enclosure in the middle of the field. But they kept even nechozolul era's..
I
went to the toilet. On the sinks were two soaps. Socialist soap era! The same
were the toilet paper and the washing detergent toilet. Next door was a closet
with a open door , where was stored : soap, detergent, toilet paper .. the same about twenty-five years.
Here,
in the midst of swampy field, closely guarded by stray dogs, it was teleported
a big part of socialist institution.
It
came two o'clock. The students gathered quickly and jump up in the bus.
The
car start to go in a swampy mad fields, leave it in back visited hangar
belonging to another time. We returned back to civilization!I become
melancholy, while I look at landscapes, another that we saw at the first time
because the driver had chosen another route to the way back.
The
cheerful and exuberant energy of the young people by my side create a pleasant
atmosphere , entertaining. What they saw for them was something new and their
were fascinated for good without knowing why.
-Do
you wanna work here in the future? i ask them.
-No,mister
professor. We won't. We like here, just for practice. Because it's different
...
The
bus go on, passing through villages.
We
enter soon in capital and appear high sumptuous buildings, with walls by
colored glass in which had headquarters in big electronic companies,computers
builted in the old inustrial site . The young people dressed in suits,with
ties, in hand with a cup of steaming coffee or
a cigarette , arose the balconies or at the entrance at the ground
floor of a buildings. And the spread aroma was very pleasant. It was the
unmistakable scent of a natural coffee.
We
came in present and in civilization!
Next
days, my students from different groups shows me at the class electronic
components on their pockets.
-But
from where? I ask them staring. Then I remembered how stressful were the
cleaning ladies at the university, when
in the toilets were brought auxiliary equipment for storing soap, paper , , dry
hands machine, very modern, until
disappeared all together. In my time, no student would not have taken even any needle from
practice or from university, I thought. The grow up in profit obtaing , changed
people completely...
-From
'' Ancient '' Mr.Teacher , they answer me with a loud voices.
-Well,why
you take it? I questioned myself, curious for understand their gesture.
We
find a new use. Bostoaca took it even a picture,looks like the manager,witch is
dead someone told me and show me a picture of a man in a suit.
I
took it in my hand and I was dumbfounded.It was the picture of the former
director of a institution where I done my student practice. Mr.Inescu...
Strong sensations / Sensations puissantes / Sensaciones fuertes
Cosmin, Tudor, Iulian, Tiberiu, Andrei, Cristian şi
Adrian like real teenagers in search of thrills, fun and found the ruins of the
former socialist factories „Hammer and Sickle” a true mammoth industrial,
derelict, which stretced on several acres. Former industrial buildings, located
in a high degree of destruction became for them the ideal place to play. After
several explorations, along several years, they managed to know every nook and
cranny to uncover any secret place of gigantic industrial buildings.
As usual, they spent the weekend watching favorite
movies, horror and science fiction or the strangest routes traversing more
unusual plant space.
It was dusk and full moon made his appearance shy
mysterious darkness of the night, a few stars shining through. Teenagers
reached the double wall, masked a hall, recently discovered one of them and
went up to the floor, when suddenly they saw a blinding light and heard a
deafening noise.
Edi climbed up a pole and saw a huge body taper as
brightly while landing, spinning speed, the site of the former plant. Cover
comical tip flying object is moved aside and he began to descend some strange
creatures, metal, dressed in colorful robes conical, hooded, which clattered
heavily and talking loudly. When you arrive near sources of electricity
existing plant all over the field, they connect to it and burn brightly,
releasing a powerful energy arround.
-
You low, you better
hide and stay there. Wine freaks here. The break above flee from the land and
do not stop until the plant walls.
Speriar[ boys and tried to flee.
Tudor, Andrew, Tiberius and Adrian, learn to face, Sports
natures, managed to slip and leave the place.
But Julian, Cosmin, Cristian failed. They stuck to a wall
turning double masked.
When the group entered the premises, all three were
frozen by fear and since then have never taken word.
Tudor, Andrew, Tiberius and Adrian were stopped only when
they came running out of land former factories „Hammer and sickle”.
-
I escaped brother!
What I took fright! Andrei said breathlessly. And we throught the plant’s
current owners are at a loss. That does not earn anything. When there, make
money with a shovel. Foreigners pay these aliens probably do well because she
mendrele around here.
- What am I doing? Tiberiu asked curiously.
- I do not know and I do not care. Nor should you not
interest you, replied Andrew.
- But Julian, and Cristian, Cosmin does what? Adrian asked
worried.
- Las’ that they are doing! I am smart guys! However, we
must notify parents not to look at night! Especially Cristi’s father. I’m cop!
Tudor said. And do not call mobile parents that troubled them.
And the teenager took the mobile, call phone numbers.
- Good evening, sir strkes. I’m Tudor. Know that Cristi
remains to me overnight for phrase lears math. We have difficult problems and
together we can better understand and solve.
- Well, hoy, there was a bored voice. Just do not do
something stupid, to make trouble.
- How so, sir stump. We are boys behaved, earnest, Tudor
said.
- Good, earnest, las’I know that you can skin you! Whether!
Only tomorrow Cristi appear alive and unharmed, police said.
- Cosmin has only mother! Call her too! Andrew said his
friends.
- Mrs. Chaffinch, are Tudor, Cosmin stay overnight at me.
We want to learn together better.
- Do not know what you are going to do, just do not
something bad happened, she said she worried.
- Only you know! With me, Cosmin is safe! Tudor said
bravely.
- I know what I do? I hope not deceive me confidence!
Teenage mother said. Spor to work!
-
May remainded Julian’s
parents, said Tiberius. I call you,that I know better.
-
Good evening, Mr. Papuc.
I am his friend Julian Tiberius. Physical prepare a project in groups to school
and have to work together, to seek information on the Internet, the boy
explained.
-
And you can work on? In
the night he grabbed teaching. As if I did not so diligent man said thickly.
-
Internet works better at
night. It has more speed, explains Tiberius.
-
Do not do anything on
the Internet! I know you that you not only to educations’s head! But either! If
something bad happened that’s okay!
Activity enjoyable! Julian’s father hate them.
-
Okay, I solved! Let’s go
home! Andrew said his friends. We find out tomorrow what they did our friends!
He’s doing it! And lest we forget and call him, you’re miserable! He discovers
freaks and those who know what they do! And keep your beak! Do not tell anyone
what happened! You put the boys in danger! Tomorrow, brothers!
……………………………………………………………………………
Julian, Cosmin, Cristian sat crouched, huddled
in each other, as they were caught by the huge group of foreigners, turning
double wall. Julian stood on his head Cosmin bottom and Cristian Iulian head on
his lap. But they could not move for fear. And neither could no longer converse
among themselves.
There was a lugubrious music, creepy, whose sounds and vibrations of the double walls were strongly enhanced. Cold metal resonates and vibrant Funeral increasingly louder.
The boys speriară so hard that their eyes vascularizaseră. All had white eyeball bloody stăapuns the string wires in winding routes. Their eyes înceţoşaseră. And their bodies trembled involuntarily frightened.
Foreigners began jabbering all creepy. Occasionally screaming scary. And the screams were frequency ultrasound. Boring boys bodies, like drilling rigs searching for oil deposits feverishly to great depths.
Only in May had heard horror movies adolescents it. But when watching the film with such a theme, it seemed fun. Now, however, it did not sound. Replace smiles, grimaces involuntarily sketched fear. No longer could control facial muscles that contract rhythmically, relentlessly.
Their ears are ringing because of the tension.
At one point, they began to hear screams of pain a person and a machine motor sounds.
The intensity grew screams. They looked in increasingly heartbreaking. And the noise synchronize the device in a creepy as possible with them.
As if we drink a bottle of us remembered Cosmin. Let's all draw by many a swig back to us. Strong alcohol, stress boys quickly made its effect and quickly fell asleep. Only Andrei, he remembered his mother's advice, a professor of history, as in cases of risk to never drank. He lay awake. But it cost him so much. It was the only one who was shocked the most. Physiognomy and psyche were heavily marked and visible hearsay.
Suddenly the pain disappeared sounds. There was a brief moment of silence and then began an eerie chorus of voices sinister. Again, double metal wall, amplify sounds and teenagers to feel everything was high.
Iulian Cosmin made him and hardly notice it. Was he in the same situation. However the toilet could not walk and were apparently waiting for hours in the place where they were awful. They could not sleep, could not stand still, and tension was increasing.
Sounds of varying intensity, different harmonies, they created permanent shocks, keeping them in suspense bodies continuously.
It momentarily expecting something more fierce. But the greatest evil was possible to be discovered. Neither wanted to think about what could happen. In any case something soothing. The scenery, sounds heard, not heralded nothing good.
Time dilates and adolescents incredible it seemed that everything lasts incredibly long. That is there for a very long time ... and that never end ...
After this, the boys had gone forever appetite for novelty, adventure.
Cristian sad thought "If you get out of here alive, do not set foot in the old plant, how many days you have. If you knew my father would come here with special forces after me. No forensic investigations do not think he's seen something terrible. Or not he told me? ".
Julian mused wise "From now on, I do a good boy. I always listen to his mother and father. Here they were right when they told me not to walk through unknown places helter-skelter. They warned me poor. And I, bad boy, I have not listened. Look what happened to me! It's like being in a horror movie failed. But now it does not seem fun at all. I have, myself being the protagonist. "
Cosmin his thoughts ran to his mother and sister. What are they to do with me, really? Both love me more! It would suffer if something bad would happen! From now on I'll be a good boy, obedient. It's over with bravery. Look what happened with my ideas of adventure!
The noise disappeared and the boys had not realized what was happening. Reeling in shock.
There was silence, and none could mumbled a word. None of them moved, although numb when sitting not budge.
Edi awoke frightened by the roar of shouting Cosmin terrified. And he had a nightmare. A terrible dream in which he was with all his friends. Everything seemed so real ... but they will not tell anything to scare them.
Cosmin zgâlţâielile sprang to his friend. Still not realize what is real and what is dream.
- Yo, brothers to stop watching horror movies, he said scared. That's why I was with her in a dream, thought the boy.
- No science fiction, Alin complete that he was awake, sweating, like after a terrible nightmare. I was with everyone, but what scared me! I do not tell them anything.
- None of the plant abandoned lands 'Sickle and Hammer' let's go, Iulian complete. Who knows what can happen teenager he said, thinking of the dream that woke shocking.
- Indeed, the sayings strengthen his friend, Cristian, his face red and eyes vascularized. It thought it was real. And I was with them in their sleep.
- I and I agree, 'said Tiberius. We must change our habits. With some quiet, safe, Tiberiu said, while still shaking, under the impetus of the dream, watching his teammates play, unless something bad păţiseăa, as it had in his dream.
What was surprising and adolescents did not know was that all dreamed the same dream, they were together ...
There was a lugubrious music, creepy, whose sounds and vibrations of the double walls were strongly enhanced. Cold metal resonates and vibrant Funeral increasingly louder.
The boys speriară so hard that their eyes vascularizaseră. All had white eyeball bloody stăapuns the string wires in winding routes. Their eyes înceţoşaseră. And their bodies trembled involuntarily frightened.
Foreigners began jabbering all creepy. Occasionally screaming scary. And the screams were frequency ultrasound. Boring boys bodies, like drilling rigs searching for oil deposits feverishly to great depths.
Only in May had heard horror movies adolescents it. But when watching the film with such a theme, it seemed fun. Now, however, it did not sound. Replace smiles, grimaces involuntarily sketched fear. No longer could control facial muscles that contract rhythmically, relentlessly.
Their ears are ringing because of the tension.
At one point, they began to hear screams of pain a person and a machine motor sounds.
The intensity grew screams. They looked in increasingly heartbreaking. And the noise synchronize the device in a creepy as possible with them.
As if we drink a bottle of us remembered Cosmin. Let's all draw by many a swig back to us. Strong alcohol, stress boys quickly made its effect and quickly fell asleep. Only Andrei, he remembered his mother's advice, a professor of history, as in cases of risk to never drank. He lay awake. But it cost him so much. It was the only one who was shocked the most. Physiognomy and psyche were heavily marked and visible hearsay.
Suddenly the pain disappeared sounds. There was a brief moment of silence and then began an eerie chorus of voices sinister. Again, double metal wall, amplify sounds and teenagers to feel everything was high.
Iulian Cosmin made him and hardly notice it. Was he in the same situation. However the toilet could not walk and were apparently waiting for hours in the place where they were awful. They could not sleep, could not stand still, and tension was increasing.
Sounds of varying intensity, different harmonies, they created permanent shocks, keeping them in suspense bodies continuously.
It momentarily expecting something more fierce. But the greatest evil was possible to be discovered. Neither wanted to think about what could happen. In any case something soothing. The scenery, sounds heard, not heralded nothing good.
Time dilates and adolescents incredible it seemed that everything lasts incredibly long. That is there for a very long time ... and that never end ...
After this, the boys had gone forever appetite for novelty, adventure.
Cristian sad thought "If you get out of here alive, do not set foot in the old plant, how many days you have. If you knew my father would come here with special forces after me. No forensic investigations do not think he's seen something terrible. Or not he told me? ".
Julian mused wise "From now on, I do a good boy. I always listen to his mother and father. Here they were right when they told me not to walk through unknown places helter-skelter. They warned me poor. And I, bad boy, I have not listened. Look what happened to me! It's like being in a horror movie failed. But now it does not seem fun at all. I have, myself being the protagonist. "
Cosmin his thoughts ran to his mother and sister. What are they to do with me, really? Both love me more! It would suffer if something bad would happen! From now on I'll be a good boy, obedient. It's over with bravery. Look what happened with my ideas of adventure!
The noise disappeared and the boys had not realized what was happening. Reeling in shock.
There was silence, and none could mumbled a word. None of them moved, although numb when sitting not budge.
Edi awoke frightened by the roar of shouting Cosmin terrified. And he had a nightmare. A terrible dream in which he was with all his friends. Everything seemed so real ... but they will not tell anything to scare them.
Cosmin zgâlţâielile sprang to his friend. Still not realize what is real and what is dream.
- Yo, brothers to stop watching horror movies, he said scared. That's why I was with her in a dream, thought the boy.
- No science fiction, Alin complete that he was awake, sweating, like after a terrible nightmare. I was with everyone, but what scared me! I do not tell them anything.
- None of the plant abandoned lands 'Sickle and Hammer' let's go, Iulian complete. Who knows what can happen teenager he said, thinking of the dream that woke shocking.
- Indeed, the sayings strengthen his friend, Cristian, his face red and eyes vascularized. It thought it was real. And I was with them in their sleep.
- I and I agree, 'said Tiberius. We must change our habits. With some quiet, safe, Tiberiu said, while still shaking, under the impetus of the dream, watching his teammates play, unless something bad păţiseăa, as it had in his dream.
What was surprising and adolescents did not know was that all dreamed the same dream, they were together ...
Epilogue
After a few days passed again Edi mysterious place. Curiosity overcame fear. On the site obiectuil seen huge conical, all vegetation was burned. So, instead of electrical sources, where strange creatures ate...
After a few days passed again Edi mysterious place. Curiosity overcame fear. On the site obiectuil seen huge conical, all vegetation was burned. So, instead of electrical sources, where strange creatures ate...
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