“Poetry is untranslatable, like the whole art” said Andrei Gorchakov in Tarkovsky’s masterpiece, Nostalghia. I very often find myself thinking this is true. A poem is the same when put in another language, yet paradoxically, poetry is able to translate feelings, passions, shortcomings and many other things. I am not a poet, for I haven’t yet managed to write in such way as to speak on the language of everyone’s soul. Yet I am a dreamer, a fighter and equally a loser, a learner and a lover, I am what the momentary offers me or makes of me. I try to put all these on paper, in words that never seem to be simple enough, nor metaphorically rich, bathed in symbols and myths. I try still and that is enough evidence to say there is an end, an attainment, room for improvement, a heaven where once I will become a poet I will end up reciting with Ovid love verses. I am strategically hiding however in the depths of social media, where my Facebook and Instagram pages @Capnobatae serve me as a platform to show from time to time my constant battle for attaining a universal language. I am also to be found on Poetizer where I indulge in exchanges of poetical ideas with my other poetic comrades. There I like to keep my name (Robert-Catalin Barbu) as a reminder I am still nothing more than a man. I live in Northampton, the oldest city of UK, where time seems to have forgotten its normal flow and I have an affinity for philosophy and religion hence why I do my MA in Religious studies and Philosophy at University of Gavle in Sweden. The rest about me I’ll let everyone find out, by reading the poems that this universal force, poetry, exorcises once in a while from within the depths of my soul.