Black humor in the Romanian cemetery
It is believed that joking about the dead is disrespectful and smacks of tactlessness and bad manners, but not in the Romanian town of Sapanta. Locals have learned to treat death with humor, and this is especially well expressed in the bright colorful tombstones in the local cemetery. And the epitaphs on them may contain funny rhymes addressed to the deceased. Sometimes you can even read someone's secrets and secrets here… However, the dead don't care anymore.
This tradition was started by local carpenter Stan John Patras, who made crosses and tombstones out of oak.
After the traditional funeral, which lasts three days, locals gather together to drink and share stories about the deceased.
Patrasch began to turn these stories into short poems, and then cut them on oak tablets.
Carpenter carved his first poem on a tombstone in 1935.
He continued to create them until his death in 1977. It is believed that more than 800 tombstones with limericks were made in this way.
After the death of Patras, the vacant place was taken by his disciple Dumitru Pop, who continues this unique tradition to this day.
Today, when someone dies in the village, the family comes to Dumitru Pop and asks him to make a cross. He carves it in his small workshop located behind the house.
He paints oak plaques in blue and decorates them with ornaments and various details.
Then he draws something related to the deceased, and after that composes a short verse about him.
Only the author himself decides what will be in the picture and what the poem will be.
Often his poems are the true embodiment of black humor; there is a lot of tactlessness, blasphemy and love of alcohol in them.
Here is one example of an epitaph on a tombstone dedicated to someone's mother-in-law: "My mother-in-law is lying here. If she had lived another year, I would have been lying here...".
Or here is the instruction: "Vodka is pure poison. It brings tears and torment. And she tripped me up - she brought death. If you like vodka, the same thing will happen to you. I drank vodka, and I died with it in my hands."
In his old age, Stan Petrash himself, feeling his imminent demise, personally made a tombstone for himself. The epitaph on it reads: "In my whole life I have never wished harm to anyone. As much as I could, I did good to everyone who needed it. Oh, my poor world! It wasn't easy to live in it..."