POEME DE LOCOTENENT AVIATOR GHEORGHE MOCIORNITA

Student fiind la Universitate in anii '70 am invatat Literatura Engleza cu dna profesoara Maria Mociornita. Nu am facut, pana azi, legatura intre numele ei si al pilotului de vanatoare Gheorghe Mociornita. Acum am gasit in siteul worldwar2.ro numele profesoarei mele si doua poezii de Gheorghe Mocionita, traduse de ea in limba engleza. Sper ca nu se supara nimeni pe mine ca preiau cele doua poeme, odata cu mentionarea sursei.

http://www.worldwar2.ro/arr/poems.htm

Poems of lt. av. Gheorghe Mociornita

The poems were translated by Prof. Maria Mociornita, the sister of poet/fighter pilot. I thought that the artist in Gheorghe Mociornita should not be overlooked. Nor should the soldier.
A DREAM
Deep in my dream
it was as if I were in flight
above the sky of humans.
Down beneath us,
gorgeous swellings of light
looked as though arrested
under blazing silver fires.
I was flying in a covey of Walachian birds
and our wings would carry
the red of poppies, the yellow of ripe fields,
the light blue sky of soaring larks.
From their far old-standing place
the Carpathian Mountains
were cautiously watching us!
A short sharp noise alarms the sky!
High above us
thin foil bumblebees were swarming.
More packed
and in no time at all
we made for them.
In endless flight from far-off countries
queer-looking birds with two long tails
and double-headed,
in wild and hungry rush had come
to rend my native land's clear sky.
At quiet speed
we all flew upwards
allowing them to pass.
Yet moving forward
they wouldn't even dream of it!
upward they fly in ever higher circles
and down they dash in spinning dives.
Upward vaultings
sideways glidings,
oblique boltings!
With wide-stretched arms
prodigious sirens are whirling in the air.
All at once, my searching eye
got a glimpse of two of them
in close pursuit of one of ours!
What were they up to?
Right then, my ploughman's hand from old ancestors
fired at them hot burning seeds
which they got deep into their bowels...!
With both of them tipped over and disrupted
their fierce rushing chase
was doomed to go to pieces!
From high up there, from the core of heavens
in piercing swirling downfall
they tried to find a way to our golden fields
and through their folded wings,
full-bloomed, the poppies glistened!
May 1944
Unfortunately, the claim on the P-38 (described in this poem) was not found yet. We can only speculate on the date: 5, 6 or 18 May?

SONG
... and these horizons are so wide...
down here, beneath us,
both the peaks of TATRA
and MATRA's slopes abrupt;
the sharpness of eyesight
establishes their limits.
Abundant snow is present everywhere,
the reddish spots are forests,
amidst the witness of the valleys
SAJO seems to have got lost!
.............................................
Searching the immensity
silently I count the instants.
Right now it's time!
In swift flight on one wing
we unscrew the heights,
one after the other
would fall through that tower
the tower of sacrifice!
.............................................
Bewitched by our swirl and wirl
the endless marching column stopped!
Burning circles doomed to death,
like fire balls we spit with stars
countless beads and beads of blood
.............................................
Somewhere the dearest ones
will be no longer waited for!
fresh tears are to be shed anew...
.............................................
The horizons are so wide...
the engine's singing, singing
and the song is within me;
I am myself the song,
the Blind song of Destiny!
January 1945