Author : Spanu Dumitru Viorel , Romania

Letters to Pasqualina
Pasqualina is a very good friend and we share something in common . The Number Theory . She is an astrologer , even the personal astrologer of former French President Jacques Chirac and specialist in the occult branch of Number Theory , the numerology . Author : Spanu Dumitru Viorel Cher amie , Je te souhaitez de bon choses dans ta vie a l`occasion de 14 Juilet . Je te remercie pour ton bon mots que tu m`ecritez dans ton email . Je travaillez beaucoup et les resutats sont meilleures . Tu peut voir mon travaille sur scribd.com et myebook.com . C`est une periode faste . Tu est une tres bonne amie . Viorel

Author : Spanu Dumitru Viorel Cher amie Pasqualina , je te remercie pour le fait que tu me souhaitez de bon mots a l`ocasion de me jour de naissance . Il est tres longue temps de le moment que nous on parle . Excuse moi pour mon ecriture en francais , parce que il n`est pas tres bon .J`ai de probleme avec le gramaire . Mais , je parle francaise , qui est un langue aussi belle , tres bien . Je te souhaitez de tres bon chose dans tout ta vie .

Excuse moi encore , je t`tecritez dans l`anglais pour me faire tres bien entendu . I kindly ask you to help the publishing my researches in some scientific journals . I kindly thank you and the best regards . I kindly ask you to help the publishing of my researches . You are one of the most respected physicist in the world and maybe you can recomand to some editors of scientific journals my researches .

Please , excuse me for asking you so kind to help the publishing of my texts , beacause I know that you do so much work . I appreciated so much your books and I read " A brief history of time " and I think that is a marvellous book . . So , I admire you a lot and you are one of the man that are a model to me . I am specialost in number theory and I wrote 20 conjectures , that are extremelly difficult to be proved , exactly as your NP-problems . In fact , some of them can not be demonstrated by now . I think as example to My First Conjecture , which , exacly as the Hypothesis of the genius Bernhard Riemann , can not be demonstrated because there is a lack in our mathematical knowledge . I kindly invite the great mathematicians to try to demonstrate it . I do not expect that in the years that will come ,that this conjecture will be demonstrated . My first Conjecture is also important to the domain of physics . There are some texts that are being supported by My First Conjecture . So , please be so kind and read all my texts . You will see that My First Conjecture is important in the domain of physics . Please , be so kind and publish My First Conjecture in some scientific journals . There are very important physicist who built the Loop Quantum Gravity theory . I know that the String Theory and the Loop Quantum Gravity are the most important concurent theories that can be validated in the future . The String Theory is a brilliant , and very coherent and also a wonderfull theory . So is also the Loop quantum Gravity theory . I am a sustainer of the Loop Quantum Gravity Theory and i found some arguments in the favour of this theory . I am also an expert in Number Theory and I wrote many conjecture , some of them are not mathematical statements that can be demonstrated . My First Conjecture can not be demonstrated by now , who knows , maybe over many years , beacuse there is a lack in our mathematical knowledge . I studied the equations of the greatest physicist Albert Einstein and being a specialist in Numer Theory , I found that this equation has no solutions in prime numbers . the other equation , from the book " Allgemeinverstandliche Relativitatstheorie " of Albert Einstein , making about it a natural hypothesis , I found that this equation has no solution in odd numbers . You know , if the spacetime is a continuum , these equations must have solutions for all real numbers . So , I do not think that the spacetime continuum is a continuum . I think that the great genius Albert Einstein would have discovered immediatelly , with his great mind , taht one of his equation has no solution in prime numbers , if he would had a computer to make an extremelly large study for this equation . So , in my texts that I send you , there are arguments in the favour of the Loop Quantum Gravity and in one of my text "The 10th Conjecture . And the Discrimination Criterion. The-Uncertainty-Principle" there is a Discrimination Criterion that can be used in the far future to imagine an experiment taht can validate the Loop Quantum Gravity . So , please find a moment to read my texts , and please be so kind , and publish them , in the scientic journals . The road of the science , as the history proved , is that a theory which is largelly accepted by the whole world may be in the future a particular case of another much complex theory . In my text "METAMATEMATICA essays of mathematics and physics dedicated to my son " I talk about this fact . A theory , like the Theory of General Realativity " coul be just a part of another theory , like Loop Quantum Gravity theory and so on , with another much complex theory . Many of my conjectures were tested on computer and I did not found any counterexample to my conjectures and I use also the computer to extend The Leibniz Criterion . Please , I shall be very glad if you will recomand my researches to the editors of scientific journals . I Thank you for your kindness and I wish you kindest regards .

My email is : spanuviorel@yahoo.com

Ton ami , Spanu Dumitru Viorel Bucharest , Romania

Author : Spanu Dumitru Viorel Cher Pasqualina , Je te remercie pour ton bon mots . Tu est une etre tres gentile . Je t`envoyez mon dernier short stories . J`y croit qu`ils te plaire . Je te souhaitez tout les meilleures . " Tout est pour le mieux dans la meilleure du monde possible " a ditez Gotlieb Leibnitz , un tres grand mathematicien . Peutetre qu`il a raison . Je ne sais pas ! A bientot ! Ton ami , Viorel

Author : Spanu Dumitru Viorel Cher Pasqualina , Je veux te remercier pour ton bon mots . Tu est toujours aussi delicate et gentile . Je t`envoyez quelqune de mon short stories . Je crois que tu l`aimerai . Envoyez moi ton opinion sur ce textes , parceque tu est aussi educate . Je te souhaitez de bon chose dans ton vie ! Ton ami ,

Viorel

Cher amie , Je te remercie pour ton mots aussi gentile et bon . Tu est un etre merveilleuse . Tu a recevre ton clairevoyance parce que tu est une de plus bon etres . Je me demande que tu fait a Paris dans ton temps libre . Paris est peutetre le plus boem ville du monde . Qu`est peut etre meilleure pour un ecrivain : boire une caffe dans un bistro dans Montmartre avec ses amies et parle de la literature . I wonder sometimes ( je t`ecritez dans l`anglais ; il doit que j`acheter une dictionaire francais-roumain ) if you let your imagination to send you in the past . Do you wish to see a country or a place in some past period . To walk on streets of a old town , let`s say 50 or 100 year ago . I go some time in an imaginary trip through Buchaest in the fifthies . Old houses , clean and chic. Churches so nice , inspiring a sensation of wellbeing . Few soviet tanks going slowly after an old tramway . Pubs , with mititei ( a sort of saucers ) , people smoking Marasesti , some soviet soldiers laughing and drinking vodka , waitresses bringing sarmale cu mamaliguta . Outside , buildings lined up along boulevard . Not so tall blocks of flats , here and there soviet buildings for russian staff , all grey , house inhabited by a century , all with large spaces between them . Trees very tall , everywhere , flowers near streets , so little noise , banners here and there : " Stalin si poporul rus / Libertate ne-au adus " and also many advertising papers on walls for films like " Balada soldatului sovietic " and for theaters . Dear Pasqualina , maybe you travell yourself back in the past exploring places that you wish to see . J`atendez que tu m`ecritez . J`aime le persone qui son tres bon et gentile . Mais tu est le plus gentile et plus bon . Au revoir . Ton amie , Viorel Author : Spanu Dumitru Viorel Cher amie , Pas de nouvelles de toi . Il me manque ton bon mots que tu m`ecrite . Je espere que tu est tres bien . Tu est une etre aussi bon . Qu`est que tu fait a Paris ? Cette ville est merveilleux . Ils sont des ecrivains qui parle de leur oeuvres dans de bistro tres chic . Paris est le plus boeme ville . J`atendez que tu m`ecrite . Je te souhaites des bon choses dans ta vie .

Ton ami , Viorel

Author : Spanu Dumitru Viorel Cher Pasqualina . Je te remercier encore une fois pour ton bon mots que tu m`ecritez . Tu est un etre aussi bon et gentile . Je t`envoiez quelque poems .

Poems about time and love

Poems

about time and love

Catren Anii au trecut asa - risipa , Si eternitatea - i clipa . Cine e de vina

Ca tu esti divina ?

( Primele doua versuri - poetul si medicul Ionel Preutu Ultimele doua versuri - Spanu Dumitru Viorel ; Ionel Preutu si- a publicat poeziile in anii ` 80 )

O poezie a lui Spanu Dumitru Viorel , din primavara lui 2002 ( inca pastrez coala pe care am scris-o ; mi-i draga )

De as putea un timp as inventa De as putea un timp as inventa Precum e spatiul ce il intretese . La dreapta , stinga , Nainte si-napoi , In sus si-n jos , Prin el m-as deplasa . Si fiecare clipa as putea

De mii de ori acuma s-o traiesc . Pe multitudine de curbe solitare , Sirag de intimplari ce n-ar fi ulterioare . In acest timp eu as fi purces . Si cu o clipa inainte de-a te intilni , Pe alt drumeag atunci eu as porni . Nicicind de tine n-as fi fost indragostit , Nicicind tu nu mai m-ai fi chinuit . De as putea un timp as inventa .

The Remembrance ( After Karl Gustafsson`s poem Arrieta ) The Remembrance

From days breaks through the light , From night comes up the dream . The grass grows and there are whispers ; There are fainty clouds . If the others don`t trust you There is people . It`s better to let the wounds unhealed Against any common sense . There are secret gates that might not be let closed . Nobody is allowed to let them sealed .

There , where everything is impossible , weak eyes see How the remembrance becomes necessity .

Suris amar

Bolnav de sinceritate , In cer un diamant am cautat , Bijuteria la care am sperat , Are suris suav , suris amar si gust de ciocolate .

Temporal , atemporal

Chipul tau imi curge prin vene , Parfumul tau ma imbata alene . Dupa al iubirii orizont de timp alerg ; Nu pot sa-l prind ! Sa fie dar o cauza structurala ? De vina-i oare discreta cuanta temporala ? Si daca l-as prinde Ce as putea sa schimb ? Socot , ma-ntreb si ma gindesc la marginea de timp ! Dar a nu fi nu - nseamna ca nimic nu este ; Chiar Universul insusi , in clipa-ntii paseste Din prea subtilul , omnipotentul virtual Ce structureaza intr-una acest prezent banal . Mi-e dor de tine , inger , venit de pe tarim atemporal .

Ils te plaire ! Au revoir ! Viorel

Short Stories send to my friend , Pasqualina .

Short stories:
The magic The town Bread , onion and cheese

Random thoughts The expectations Prin librarii Fairy Tale Punga Povestea numerelor hipercomplexe Lacrimi puse in lanturi Ochelarii Camera Author : Spanu Dumitru Viorel , Bucharest , Romania

The Magic It was before the magic night of Haloween . The magic must not disappear . What about hope ? I went to the market to borrow a cigarette pack . Sometimes , it happens like this . When I came back , in the bus there was a poor man who was dumb . He wrote on a piece of paper : " I die from starvation " . People in the bus were so poor that nobody gave him a dime or an apple or a little piece of bread . Where is the hope ? And it was before the Holyday of Saint Dumitru . It seems that it is so little hope . There are such moments . The magic must not disappear !

The Town
Bucharest , 1st November

The winter knocks at the door . It`s so beautiful because a few snowflakes twisted through the air . It`s quiet and streets are covered by the carpet of yellow and red leaves . The leaves have no worries : they don`t think at the high prices for food , electricity , phones , water , or at the warming bills . The holydays are coming . Still they won`t come with a their miracles . The miracle is already here . The miracle is that we are still alive !

Bread , onion and cheese So nice was the neighborhood of Giulesti . A county of the workers of Romanian Railways , close to the traveling steam locomotives , that move and take with them a bit of our souls . We , the kids from Giulesti loved those steam locomotives and we were talking all the time about them . My grandfather was engineer on such a machine and he gave me when he was coming home a box of cheap cookies . I was happy . The neighbours were also workers at railways. One day , our neighbour give us bread and onion and cheese . It was the best meal that I had ever eat . I said myself that when I shall grow I`ll buy everyday for myself bread , onion and cheese . The steam locomotives are gone and so are those marvellous days . The dream remains : I wait , here in Bucharest , for a time when I`ll afford to buy everyday bread , and onion and cheese . This is a Science Fiction story . All inhabitants of Bucharest the kitchens full of bread , onion and cheese . have

Ginduri aleatorii
Gerul e tinut la respect de termopane . In casa e cald . Se aud doar razele lunii lovindu-se de geam . Imi aprind o tigara ieftina . Rotocoalele albastrii fac volute surprinzatore . Ma gindesc la aleea de virtejuri a lui Strouhal . La piata varza era ieftina . Daca un taran vinde 35 de verze isi poate cumpara o pereche de pantofi . Daca vinde 500 de verze isi poate cumpara o geanta Gucci . Dar ce sa faca cu o geanta Gucci ? Mai bine vinde 200000 de verze si isi cumpara o garsoniera .

Iarna s-ar putea sa fie lunga . Bine ca avem muraturi ! Este o liniste deplina . Nu se aude nici o soapta . Ca sa-l citez pe Alexandr Soljenitin , probabil ca : Trecuse o zi fr necazuri , aproape fericit . Acest text este un pamflet . Cica !

Random thoughts
Frost is held in respect by the insulating glass . The house is warm. One can hear only the moon`s rays hitting the glass. I light a cheap cigarette . Blue rings of smoke revolves surprisingly . I think at the Strouhal`s path of vortices . Sprouts at the market was cheap. If a peasant sold his 35 cabagges then he can buy a pair of shoes. If he sells 500 cabbages he may buy a Gucci bag. But what to do with a Gucci bag ? It`s better to sell 200,000 cabbages and then buy a studio . Winter may be long . It`s well that we have put pickles ! Its a perfect silence. I can`t hear any whisper. To quote on Alexander Solzhenitsyn, probably : The day had passed without trouble, almost happy . This text is a pamphlet. Cica!

The expectations The dawn is here . It is so cold and the light of november is shy . No birds are singing . A few people rush to their homes after working in the night shift .

Some cars are parked on the street . One of the cars became a home . In the inside , with an old blanket on them , two people are sleeping . I do not know if they were eating something last evening , or last day . In the midst of the day they search for iron at the garbage just to sell it . I pass near them and sometimes I gave him cigarettes . I saw his eyes . There are days when he hopes nothing , there are days when it seems that he has expectations . Maybe Great Expectations . Expecting what ? Days come and go and nothing changes . What can expect a homeless man ? A job , and for sure , he dreams at a home . I do not know if I am in the past , in the London of Charles Dickens or in the Bucharest of the year 2009 . There are people so poor which are so passionate , so quiet , so good but they didn`t expect nothing . No hope , no expectation . They accept the fate . Today I so such a man carrying some used papers , willing to sell them for 50 cents . At a moment he stopped and shouted loud : I am hungry ! His wife told him to shut up the mouth . This is the question : If we all shut up the mouth the expectations will die .

Prin librarii

M-am uitat prin librarii dupa carti de matematica . Nu am fost atent la celelalte titluri , dar parca nu-mi amintesc sa fi vazut Arhipelagul Gulag . O carte fanion pentru experienta dintr-o anumita parte a lumii . Oricum cartile sunt numeroase prin librarii . Dar scumpe . Daca iti cumperi un tratat de filozofie , trebui sa maninci apoi 3 zile numai piine goala . Oricum , merita sa cumperi o carte scumpa .Trebuie sa stii adevarul , si pentru un minut ,macar , ai fost avertizat . Sa ne amintim : cine nu invata din lectiile istoriei , risca sa le repete . Pacat ca nimeni nu prea invata din lectiile istoriei si de aceea le repetam tot timpul !

Cartile sunt cei mai buni prieteni ai oamenilor . Fara cultura nu poti construi o lume libera . Ignoranta este sora dictatorilor . Mi-e dor de La Medeleni , de lumea mirifica de basm a zarzarului inflorit , de zmeul care plutea liber in vastitatea vazduhului . Nu stiu de ce imi amintesc acum de aceea lume . Ca o contrapondere la realitatea in care esti liber sa crapi de foame , una din libertatile care este reala . A , apropo de faptul ca nu prea luam in serios lectiile istoriei , iata o recenzie adhoc din 2009 a Arhipelagului Gulag de pe un blog ( written in moonlight ) : ... i nu, n-am terminat cartea, mai aveam vreo 150 de pagini i am renunat c m scotea din mini, citeam n gol. Ar fi bun dac ar avea scris mai mare i detalii reduse, c nu-mi pas de fiecare deinut politic i de fiecare inginer arestat i de fiecare student mpucat. hh.

Fairy tale

Snowflakes twists through the cold and fresh air . It was Christmas eve . Lights blink on the faades of stores in Bucharest . People are rushing to their homes with some gifts in their hands . Windy night comes over the county with its carpet of stars . In a house , the young girl puts some Christmas balls , bought 3 years ago , in the fir tree . Her mother was taking a nap . The girl remembers how she waited Santa Claus when she was little . Maybe he will come this year ! After she arranges the fir tree , she watches for a while the TV and then fall asleep . Stars just revolves in the frozen sky . The clocks tickle minutes and hours. It is very late in the magic night . Suddenly , some knocks in the front door . The girl awakes and asks : Who is there ? No answer ! She smiles : Maybe Santa has come !

She awakes her mother and both go to the door . The knocks continues . When they open the door , they see a little dog , frozen , sitting on the carpet in front of them . He is glad and he fawns , hitting with its tail the door . They laugh and then caress the doggy .Come in ! they encouraged him to step in . Doggy is happy , cause the house is warm . She tells him : You are hungry ! Mother looks at the little pet and said : the fridge is almost empty , but there is a small bit of salami in it . They cut the salami in three portions and put a third in front of the doggy . He is happy and he looks at them grateful . They all three eat their portion of cheap salami and all that beings dream at the Santa Claus . Outside , the moon send her friendly rays . From a speaker , Silent Night was coming over the city .

Punga
Autobuzul se tira spre statie . Intotdeauna , asteapta la stopul dinaintea intersectiei . Este un fenomen straniu . Ar trebui ca in 50% dintre cazuri , masina sa prinda unda verde . Linga statie , citeva containere pentru deseuri . Doi barbati adunau din container pliante aruncate . Le vor vinde pentru 5 centi kilogramul . Erau bucurosi pentru ca strisesera aproape 15 kilograme de hirtie . Vor cumpara piine pentru copii . Indesau teancurile de hirtie in pungi mari si vechi . Au plecat multumiti , cu sacosele pline . Pe jos a ramas o carte gasita in container . Nu mai aveau unde sa o mai puna . Si asa nu ar fi vindut-o decit pe un cent . Pe una din pungile lor scria : Pentru o viata mai buna ! . Vintul a pornit sa bata , rasfoind paginile cartii uitate pe caldarim . Paginile cartii , paginile vietii . Pe coperta veche scria Critica ratiunii pure . La urma urmei , ce rost mai are sa cari dupa tine cartea lui Kant ? Cu un cent nu poti cumpara o piine .

Povestea numerelor hipercomplexe

Ca de obicei , iar ma uitam pe fereastra . Nu-mi ardea de sarcinile de serviciu . Toata vara ma gindisem la ele , la numerele complexe , rotatii , translatii , algebre . Toamna lui `94 asternuse covoare de frunze ruginii . In zare un V de cocori strapungea vazduhul . In fine , lucrurile se conjugasera : era o varietate de spatiu vectorial . Cind ma gindeam la el parca intram in casa mea . Ca sa vezi , ce lacuna , descoperisem acea varietate de spatiu vectorial fara sa stiu despre quaternionii lui Hamilton . Cei scrijeliti pe o bucata de piatra . De aici atita cazna , ca remarcasera si colegii . Traian Costachescu , fostul inginer sef , un tip destept , a batut saua ca sa priceapa iapa : Or fi descoperit si altii alte lucruri prin alte parti .

Ba chiar , intr-o zi , o colega a adus un vraf de reviste Fractalia , cu quaternionii , ca sa se dumireasca cercetatorul din birou . Never mind , era o varietate de spatiu vectorial complex original Au trecut zile , luni , au trecut ani . Timpul s-a comprimat intr-un crimpei de amintire . Pe la prinz m-am gindit la cele citeva coli vechi si ingalbenite , ratacite prin casa - nici nu mai stiu unde le-am pus . Cit de putini stiu ca o descoperire in matematica inseamna o munca de Sisif ! Spatiul meu vectorial s-a strecurat printre numerele hipercomplexe ale lui Kantor , Solodovnikov si cele ale lui Davenport ca o pantera noaptea in savana . O sa caut colile , trebuie sa verific ca acest spatiu nu a fost inca descoperit . C`est comme ca ! Care-i tilcul povestii ? Ce inseamna 15 ani ? Nu poti face ceva durabil daca renunti !

Lacrimi

puse in lanturi

In fiecare glastra sunt flori : crizanteme , trandafiri , frezii , garoafe , si te insotesc cu parfumul lor diafan cind treci pe linga ele . Deasupra , stelele care fura culorile florilor si le imprastie in toata galaxia . E placut sa treci pe linga mica florarie : atita puritate pe citiva metri de caldarim Ma uit linga butiqul chic . Doi ochi prietenosi ma urmaresc . E un ciine care infrunta , incolacit intre cartoane , aerul inghetat , incremenit , al toamnei tirzii . Este atit de credincios - vegheaza micul magazin - si primeste o ratie de mincare drept rasplata . I-a racit un nerv mai demult , tot stind pe cimentul rece , si are un tic : isi misca ritmic un picior . Este frumos si demn : indura cu stoicism frigul ! Sunt clipe cind ma intristez , privindu-l .

Imi cer iertare , dar in seara asta , vazind ciinele intins pe cartoane , in ger , mi-am amintit de poetul Radu Gyr . Inghetat de frig in temnita lui , poetul , erou care a luptat pe front , a cerut un pulovar . L-au tratat ca pe un ciine . Nici macar la o flanela nu i-au dat dreptul , si s-a imbolnavit de pneumonie in puscarie . De ce ma mir ca nu a primit macar o haina , daca el , poetul , a fost condamnat la moarte pentru o poezie . Aceasta : Ridica-te Gheorghe , ridica-te Ioane ! Nu pentru-o lopata de rumena piine , nu pentru patule , nu pentru pogoane , ci pentru vazduhul tau liber de miine , ridica-te Gheorghe , ridica-te Ioane ! Pentru single neamului tau curs prin santuri , pentru cintecul tau tintuit in piroane , pentru lacrima soarelui tau pus in lanturi , ridica-te Gheorghe , ridica-te Ioane ! nu pentru minia scrisnita-n masele , ci ca sa aduni chiuind pe tapsane o claie de zari si-o caciula de stele . ridica-te Gheorghe , ridica-te Ioane ! Asa , ca sa bei libertatea din ciuturi , si-n ea sa te afunzi ca un cer in bulboane , si zarzarii ei peste tine sa-i scuturi , ridica-te Gheorghe , ridica-te Ioane ! si ca sa pui tot sarutul fierbinte , pe praguri , pe prispe , pe usi , pe icoane , pe toate ce slobode-ti ies inainte . ridica-te Gheorghe , ridica-te Ioane ! Ridica-te Gheorghe , pe lanturi , pe funii ! Ridica-te Ioane , pe sfinte ciolane ! Si sus , spre lumina din urma-a furtunii . ridica-te Gheorghe , ridica-te Ioane !

Cuvinte arestate ! In fiecare glastra sunt flori : crizanteme , trandafiri , frezii , garoafe , si te insotesc cu parfumul lor diafan cind treci pe linga ele . Deasupra , stelele care fura culorile florilor si le imprastie in toata galaxia . E placut sa treci pe linga mica florarie : atita puritate pe citiva metri de caldarim !

Literatura de sertar , aaaa , nu mai bine de seif ! Author : Spanu Dumitru Viorel , Bucharest , undeva in lume

Ochelarii Privirea-mi zabovi pe perete , pe un poster cu Pink Floyd : The Wall . Un zimbet ! Linga poster , locul unde fusese tabloul - stiti care tablou ala obligatoriu era un pic decolorat . Eh ! au trecut anii ... Tastatura ma astepta . In fine , sa scriu si ultimul paragraf : Am citit undeva despre o tara exotica , cu vegetatie luxurianta , uitata de lume , cu fluvii frumoase si munti misteriosi . Era o problema cu intelectualii pe acel tarim . Erau arestati . Cultura , vezi Doamne ! , era un ingredient subversiv in acea tara . Uimitoare era metoda de identificare a profesorilor , medicilor , avocatilor , pictorilor , inginerilor , scriitorilor , poetilor care trebuiau bagati la zdup . Trebuie sa recunosc ca era o metoda foarte eficienta : daca purtai ochelari , era clar ca esti intelectual ! Uf ! gata textul . Pot sa-mi scot ochelarii ! Ce sa fac cu ei ? Sa-i ascund sau sa-i arunc ? Acest text este un pamflet . Nu de alta , dar nu stiu daca am ascuns bine ochelarii

152437869 Author : Spanu Dumitru Viorel Bucharest , Romania

Camera
Intr-un colt , pe un scaun , cu spatele lipit de perete , privesc spre veioza veche . Razele de lumina inca isi mai fac loc printre gunoaiele care s-au adunat . Miasmele lor sfredelesc fiecare por al peretilor . Este doar o singura camera , cu o usa ce da in strada . Din cind in cind pe strada trec oameni , siluete stinghere in toamna aurie . Rar , cite unul duce o sacosa plina cu resturi menajere si alte gunoaie . Aceasta camera este singura cladire de pe o buna portiune a strazii . Cei care trec cu gunoaiele in pungi , se opresc , scot o hirtiuta , citesc si apoi se uita la numarul cladirii . Cind se lamuresc asupra adresei , se indreapta spre camera , ii deschid usa si

varsa gunoiul din sarsana peste gramezile deja strinse . Mormanele aproape ca ajung pina la tavan Prin geamul intredeschis , un firicel de aer curat , proaspat , se furiseaza inauntru . Respir cu nesat ! Zaresc afara doua rindunele care zvicnesc ca sagetile spre vazduhul plumburiu . Pe stilpul de pe straduta , se leagana in bataia brizei o tablita : Aleea Rozelor Intr-o lada de fier cu pereti scorojiti , adunasem sute de fascicule ale aceleiasi carti . De fiecare data , cei care aduceau gunoiul in pungi , aruncau si un fascicul de roman , intotdeauna aceleasi citeva zeci de file ingalbenite . Pe prima pagina a crimpeiul de carte , puteai citi : Nu gasisem adevarul ; nici macar nu-l cautasem . Nu aveam nevoie de el .