Marcela Benea’s poetry is modern, somewhat unusual for the literary arid climate of the seventies. It is discreet through an intimate note, it’s purely feminine, it’s a mark decisively personalized even from her editorial debut. Relatively small, her poetry, in its essential moments, is an expression of a sorrowful and lonely soul that totally disagrees with the fashion of the time. Her poetry is minor, closed like asceticism, masking the risk and fear of deconstructing a strong tradition of “stage poetry”. It comes in counter with „engaged, militant poetry „. In terms of language, tone and sensitivity, it expresses a different age of poetry, better said, a transition to a new paradigm.