Regasirile sufletesti se pot petrece in moduri multiple, dar putine vor fi mai frumoase si mai profunde decat aceea a Adrianei Mester in volumul bilingv de poezie Jurnalul din oglinda/A Diary in a mirror. Ghidata de un inger (fiecare din noi, poetii, avem cate un inger!), poeta ne invita sa-i traversam sufletul, ca martori ai jurnalului ei. Face asta fara ostentatie, natural, cu onestitatea artistului dispus sa-si reveleze vulnerabilitatile, folosind cu maiestrie un expresionism concret si plin de miez, inviorator si proaspat prin comparatie cu abstractionismul la moda al multor poeti contemporani. Daca ar fi sa subliniez un anumit element dintr-un volum de o asemenea calitate, pentru mine acestea ar fi inceputurile poeziilor, care, pur si simplu, te apuca de mana si nu-ti mai dau drumul: Odata, de mult, cand impachetam marea/ cu gesturi febrile... (Strigatul) sau Invariabil toate mortile au legatura unele cu celelalte... (Sah-mat!) sau Daca vrei sa-mi locuiesd sufletul, am doar o singura oferta... (Vacanta). Este imposibil sa nu vrei sa citesti continuarea unor asemenea inceputuri!
Ca traducator, notez ca reinterpretarile poemelor in limba engleza sunt in primul rand poetice, ceea ce este vital - suna bine ca poeme de sine statatoare in limba engleza, nu sunt doar mimate. Apoi ele sunt fidele, dar nu rigid-identice, ceea ce le face sa sune natural si in ambele limbi.

Rediscoveries of the soul can take place in many ways, but few are more beautiful and more profound than Adriana Mester's in the bilingual poetry volume A Diary in a mirror. Guided by an angel (each of us poets have a guiding angel!), the poet invites us to walk across her soul as witnesses of her journal. She does this without any ostentation, naturally; with the honesty of the artist comfortable in revealing their own vulnerabilities, skillfully using a straightforward and meaningful expressionism, revigorating and fresh as compared to the fashionable abstractionism of many contemporary poets. If I were to underline a certain element from a volume of such good quality, this would be for me the very beginning of the poems, which, purely and simply grab you by the hand and won't let you go: Time and time again, when I was packing the sea / with obsessive gestures (The scream) or Invariably,/ all deaths are tightly interwoven... (Check -Mate) or If you want to inhabit my soul/ I have only one single offer (Holiday). It is impossible not to want to read on after such incipits!
As a translator I must note that the rendering in English of the poems is eminently poetical, which is vital, as they sound good as poems in English in their own right, they are not just mimed. Then, they are faithful but not rigidly-identical to their Romanian counterparts, which makes them sound natural in both languages. - Daniel Ionita