Drizzle

Iulia Anastasia Roșca
She took one more look at the apartment that, until today, had been theirs. Now it felt foreign to her. As foreign as the man standing in front of her, his eyes fixated on the floor. She was trembling all over, wanting to scream, to shake him, anything to jolt him out of his lethargy, if only for a moment. She grabbed her suitcase and closed the door behind her. Once she got in the car, she put on Janis Joplin's Cry Baby and started to cry. It had begun to rain, and through the open window, the raindrops were mixing with her tears. She felt a little less alone.

Florina Hegedüs
Today, Vanity doesn't want to get out of bed, nor to drink from the chalice of fame, nor to let her fingers wander through her jewels, nor to admire her success in the mirror, nor to be advised by the Demon. Today she will be alone with herself, naked, among the sheets. With a self-ironic hmm she tells herself: Be you. Alright, alright, maybe she'll eat a few cherries, maybe she'll drink some champagne, maybe she'll try on the silver dress, maybe she'll apply perfume to her pubic hair waiting for Amor, because that rascal only comes in such weather, and they'll both be two depressed, rain-soaked souls.
 
 Tina Dublea
Night after night, I hear it raining, damn you Bacovia with your verse, that I discern angel joints cracking under the weight of too much water in their wings. They too reminisce with me of that infernal March when we made love wherever we found a Nichita's oval sky. The rain that has come will flood them all, right? If not, I will stay like this, floating in my inner Macondo, waiting for you to come with the lifeboat and ask me, I wanna know, have you ever seen the rain. But row faster, because I'm getting mouldy.

(Translated by Oana Ionescu / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year II / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)