Sakura

Lucian Pătru
Doroles, gazing into the beaming sun, was the liveliest ninja costoboc in the land. Fearless in battle, quiet, in between rebellion, he would sit day and night in the orchard nibbling cherries, spitting the seeds in a cone-shaped heap. Only in the fall did he get down, like a leaf dried of chlorophyll. Then, like a lunatic, he leapt, took the thickets and danced with them, took the springs and puddled in them, took the gods and shaved their heads. Then he would cover himself with a furrow, like a noisy hatchet, waiting for the song of the great bustard.

George Dometi
The burning smell still lingered in the air. Kim Li, well soaked in water, sprung up and jumped the electric fences. The wounds were visible to the naked eye, and new scars blossomed like cherry blossom bulbs over old attempts to escape. Pain is fleeting, victory assures your freedom. Darling, even if you don't succeed, for me you will always be a winner, his executed mother's words echoed in his ears. He tripped, and the metal prosthesis fell. Crawling his way through, he managed to escape.

Yuka Brevi
The wind began to blow so hard that the branches, torn from the cherry tree, began to fly. Put it back the way it was. Put it back, she repeated over and over again, pointing at the shattered cherry tree. I cannot. I can't, Tukon, he cried in despair. Then why did you kill him? Why, the woman wailed, picking the twigs off the ground. I'll teach you the value of life, she said scornfully, and, stepping to the edge of the cliff, she raised her arms like a bird preparing to fly. She vanished, leaving behind only regret and fluttering hair.
 
(Translated by Andreea Georgiana Bogdan / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year II / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)