<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=447959" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Curriculum Vitae</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">1992</div><div style="margin:10px 0">1) I was born in a Free City, near the North Sea.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">2) In the year of my birth, money was shredded into <br>confetti. A loaf of bread cost a million marks. Of <br>course I do not remember this.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">3) Parents and grandparents hovered around me. The <br>world I lived in had a soft voice and no claws.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">4) A cornucopia filled with treats took me into a building <br>with bells. A wide-bosomed teacher took me in.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">5) At home the bookshelves connected heaven and earth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">6) On Sundays the city child waded through pinecones <br>and primrose marshes, a short train ride away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">7) My country was struck by history more deadly than <br>earthquakes or hurricanes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">8) My father was busy eluding the monsters. My mother <br>told me the walls had ears. I learned the burden of secrets.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">9) I moved into the too bright days, the too dark nights <br>of adolescence.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">10) Two parents, two daughters, we followed the sun <br>and the moon across the ocean. My grandparents stayed <br>behind in darkness.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">11) In the new language everyone spoke too fast. Eventually <br>I caught up with them.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">12) When I met you, the new language became the language <br>of love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">13) The death of the mother hurt the daughter into poetry. <br>The daughter became a mother of daughters.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">14) Ordinary life: the plenty and thick of it. Knots tying <br>threads to everywhere. The past pushed away, the future left <br>unimagined for the sake of the glorious, difficult, passionate <br>present.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">15) Years and years of this.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">16) The children no longer children. An old man's pain, an <br>old man's loneliness.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">17) And then my father too disappeared.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">18) I tried to go home again. I stood at the door to my <br>childhood, but it was closed to the public.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">19) One day, on a crowded elevator, everyone's face was younger <br>than mine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">20) So far, so good. The brilliant days and nights are <br>breathless in their hurry. We follow, you and I.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Lisel+Mueller">Lisel Mueller</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=447959" data-title="Curriculum Vitae de Lisel Mueller" data-description="1992 1) I was born in a Free City, near the North Sea. 2) In the year of my birth, money was shredded into confetti. A loaf of bread cost a million marks. Of course I do not remember this. 3) Parents and grandparents hovered around me. The w..."></div> </div> </div>

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