He had been staring at her in bewilderment for hours. He was trying to remember every detail: the way he had melted the copper and tin, the way he had poured the alloy into the mold of her body, refining every feature. Now he had it in perfect shape before his eyes. It was her and it wasn't. Where had he gone wrong? He had worked so many hours to bring it from non-existence. Yet he didn't manage to pour her gentle soul into the mold. He picked up the hammer and struck the metal with force until he broke down in a hysterical cry of helplessness. A piece of reddish-brown cassiterite rolled unexpectedly at his feet.
Dan Banu
Father Siopi, had been a quiet man all his life. He would have liked to talk more with people, but he spoke to God instead, and when he didn't find Him, he gathered his words in a notebook with corners soaked in grease. As soon as he heard that the church had decided to purchase a new bell, he wrote one last word in the notebook, and then he faded away like a candle. When the men brought the new bell and struck its tongue against the walls, the father's voice began to flow over the village. One man alone knew of the ash that turned into bronze.
Cristian Nedelcu
The miracle of the bronze spread father Siopi's word of wisdom far and wide, and the villagers listened to the tolling of the bell, living humbly in love for God and their fellow men. Over time, the population grew, the village expanded, the small church became overcrowded, and other churches began to rise. New bells, larger and louder, gradually managed to drown out the holy voice. The youth, enchanted by the noise, left the village one by one, leaving only the old people behind, the only ones who could still hear Siopi's counsel.
(Translated by Bogdan Macarie / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year II / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)
Versiunea în română a acestui text se poate citi aici, în rubrica Ficțiuni Reale.