Poems and Tales from Romania | Page 6

* Eve's Fear
I'm not afraid of the dirt I am afraid of the Great Unwashed And I want
to wash my fears away With their tears.

* Eve's Desire
I want you to be the prisoner of my quick sands

* The Promises Of Eve
I will shape your dreams I will kiss your fears I will drink your tears
After-Moon...

* Eve About Her Poetry
My poem is one second long. Like a breath. To its beat I belong. The
rest is death.

***
Story #2
The Story of Lake Dimbovitsa
[The Wonderlanders]
This is a story whose roots are lost deep in the recesses of time, before
such stories were actually written down, but rather passed, a generation

at a time, sometimes even skipping entire generations that either were
not interested, or who merely forgot, as time was quite different in
those days, generations were shorter, and lives were shorter, too: as a
person approaching middle age today would be said, at the same age
back then, to have already led a complete and total lifespan, as likely as
not with both grand-children, AND great-grandchildren.
Thus you can see that this story is populated by very young
people . . .and such people do not often leave much of a mark on
society, other than in stories. . .such as The Little Boy At The Dike,
such as The Boy Who Cried Wolf [which may or may not be true] and
other such stories of this nature.
But this story centers around a girl, and not a girl who has magic
inflicted upon her, as in The Red Shoes, but a girl who rather has
inflicted her magic upon society, and then chooses preservation of self
or preservation of society, when her magic proves very strong . . .very
strong, indeed. . .only it may not have been magic. . .
This story takes place in Europe, before Columbus, but not so long
before. . .and it may be the reason that ice-skating is dated back to the
time it is. . . .
This is also the ballet, Les Patinagees, from the same story, with
various changes, as is usually the case with ballets.
This is not solely a side-comment as this kind of artistic licence . . .as it
were. . .is the true subject of our story.
Whether Lake Dimbovitsa is really named after the main character-- or
vice versa--has been argued by historians, inteligensia and the literati of
generations. . .I'm not taking sides. . . .
***
Dimbovitsa was a lovely girl, in an neighborhood of where the girls
were usually lovely. . .and she was no exception. . .at least for a decade
or so. . .but then came a series of long winters. . .not the harsh kind that
fill us with cold and fear of winter, but just long . . .starting with some
early freezes in October, nothing that kept the crops from being
harvested or brought to market, in fact a good many said those years
produced some of the finest fall crops of all time. . .and the most
beautiful fall colours.
These winters also held on an extra month before letting go into an
awe-inspiring set of springs, as well. The ice not melting from an

assortment of shaded ponds until well into May. . .but again. . .it was
not enough to keep the fields from being plowed and planted and the
Springs of that decade also must admittedly go down as a lovely
addition to the nicest and most beautiful springs of all history.
The summers, though perhaps a bit shorter, were also lacking in the
heat and dust that make summers sometimes unbearable, and. . .as it
happened, all in all, these were among the finest years ever.
But our story is a Wintertime story, not of harsh storms and snows, but
mostly of ice. . .and of ice. . .skating. . . .
As Dimbovitsa and her generation grew up, they skated more than had
and generation before, and possible since. The skated at least the half of
the year. . .skating in October, November, December, and in January,
February, March, April and some still in May.
Thus, skating became a part of their lives in a manner that had not
happened before. . .and it made a difference. . . .
Dimbovitsa and her generation started skating earlier in life, more
during each year, and within a few short years had become very much
the best skaters anyone had ever seen.
A new art-form was being born. . . .
Dimbovitsa and her friends, and others for miles around, were being
hailed as true artists, and Winter Carnivals or Winter Festivals of her
era were something as had