March 1st

Alina Nedelcu
Dear Sven, I'm writing to you as I stumble in these unwieldy snow boots. I am tired. And it isn't this endless winter outside that drains me, but the one frozen inside my chest. Last night, while I was feeding the middle reindeer, I thought I heard a little dove. Probably just my left temporal lobe playing tricks on me. I'm literally freezing to death out here, yet in my heart tiny branches sprout delicate pink blossoms that tremble in a gentle warm breeze. I may be stationed at the Pole of Cold, but I'll never tire of spring. And when I've become nothing but ashes, scatter me across valleys of sweet violets.
 
 David Brescan
How do you make them, granny? A safety pin and three everlasting flowers, tied in a bow with a twisted red-and-white cord. Twisted by you? By my old man, I can't see well these days. And they're three lei^[1] each? That's right. How many should I give you, dear? All of them. And what would you do with all of them? If you plan to resell them, they're five lei a piece. That's fine too, grandma. I hand over all the money from my wallet. I still need ten lei, I say, I'll run to the ATM. Granny counts out the bills. I turn around and leave. Come back! She calls. You gave me too much. Come and take your mărțișoare^[2].

 
 Anca Chimoiu
Mărțișoare! Buy two for one leu. After each shout, he cleared her throat and gave the tray of bright tokens a little shake, as if these theatrics were part of his street-seller's toolkit. Mărțișoare! Two for one leu. Have you lost your mind, Vasile! Two for one leu, that was twenty years ago! shouted Ion from his parsley stand. Come and buy: Parsley! Carrots! Vasile couldn't care less, for him it was simply the 1st of March, the current year, and that was enough. Two for one leu, take it or leave it.

 
(Translated by Maria Loredana Constantin / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year I / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)