Having left my luggage in the hotel room and quickly freshened up, I joined the other participants somewhat tired and understandably excited. The debate started: "What is the place of poetry in contemporary society?" Each one of us, including me, had something to say on this vast subject. Everyone spoke their own language, plus there was simultaneous translation.
We ate our meals together. The expenses of the stay were taken care of by an international banking organization, famous for its generosity (!). Certain writers were having fun stuffing their faces like nobody's business. "My goodness, Eastern Europeans are famished, it is well known," I said to myself, "it is thus completely excusable." The first day, at lunch, an Estonian had collapsed, dead-drunk, in the restaurant and was discreetly evacuated to the nearest hospital. Vasile leaned towards me: "You now see where poetry is in contemporary society? On the floor! What a fine symbol!"