Involved with the Congress for Cultural Freedom and a friend of independent socialists such as Juan Bosch, Baciu spoke out against South American communism and criticized Fidel Castro.

He put out the international magazine Mele, which, although rudimentarily printed and little circulated, remains a noted source of information about avant-garde writers of the Romanian diaspora, from Andrei Codrescu to Dolfi Trost and Sesto Pals.

Bookish from an early age, despite being heavily myopic,[8] he discovered Romanian and German poetic anthologies, including Kurt Pinthus' expressionistic chrestomathy, Menscheitsdämerung.

[4] A student of his father's Șaguna National College, where he earned top grades,[10] he made friends with two of his teachers, writers Octav Șuluțiu and Emil Cioran.

[14] Baciu moved on to publish other magazines, alongside Vintilă Horia, Mihai Beniuc, and Ovid Caledoniu: Stilet ("Stiletto"), then Meșterul Manole (named after the folk legend hero).

[13] Additionally, he was a contributor to literary magazines and newspapers across Romania, including Gând Românesc, Glasul Bucovinei, Rampa, and George Ivașcu's Manifest.

[8] Alongside Caledoniu, George Petcu, Maria Banuș, Laurențiu Fulga and some others, Baciu was also drawn into the "White Nights Manifesto" circle, which sought to promote young literature.

[12][22] During the early stages of World War II, Crainic gave Baciu the office of editorial secretary at Gândirea magazine, but sacked him upon finding out about his Social Democratic loyalties.

[26] Upon his graduation, Baciu became translator for the Institute of Statistics (under Sabin Manuilă),[6] cultural adviser for the General Council of Bucharest, and publisher for the companies Gorjanul and Publicom.

Meanwhile, he also put out new selections from his poetry: Cântecul mulțimii ("Song of the Crowd"), with a preface by Ion Pas, came out at the PSDR party press in 1944; Caiet de vacanță ("Notebook for the Holidays") at Unirea of Râmnicu Vâlcea in 1945.

[4] He published occasional contributions to Revista da Semana, Diário Carioca, and Maquis, and, in 1957, two volumes of his Portuguese-language poetry: Aula de solidão ("Lesson in Solitude"), Dois Guatemaltecos ("Two Guatemalans").

[47] Together with Salvadorean diplomat Rafael Barraza Monterrosa, the Bacius managed a Panhispanist association, called Ruy Barbosa Circle, building personal contacts with Juan Bosch, the exiled Dominican socialist,[48] and Carlos Mérida, the Guatemalan painter.

[40] In April 1958, Baciu, Meireles and Bandeira were among the 42 intellectuals who set up a Brazilian chapter of the anticommunist Congress for Cultural Freedom (CCF), which, from 1959, put out the Portuguese-language review Cadernos Brasileiros.

[50] The organization was in part funded by the Central Intelligence Agency, through its Paris agent, John Hunt (with whom Baciu corresponded), and answered directly to the Spaniard Julián Gorkin.

[34] In 1965, the Bacius set up their own magazine, International Poetry Letter – Mele (from the Hawaiian for "song"),[62] which sought to establish connections between Latino, French, American and Romanian literature.

[9][55] He followed up with a 1967 essay on the politics of Juan Bosch and Spanish-language poetry volumes, Semblanza y explicación de Latinoamérica ("A Profile and Explanation of Latin America") of 1968 and the 1973 Nasserismo ("Nasserism").

[21] Inspired by an encounter with French surrealist Benjamin Péret,[4][73] Baciu had begun a vast work of research into the history of Latin American avant-garde literature, and spent some time in Peru and Bolivia.

By his own account, he interviewed "my great friend" Tristán Marof, Luis Alberto Sánchez, Javier Sologuren and Emilio Adolfo Westphalen, and helped rediscover the anticommunist surrealist Rafael Méndez Dorich.

[77] Baciu later exposed communist censorship, noting for instance the cuts that had been made into the published diaries of Șuluțiu, and the exclusion of concrete poetry from the Brazilian anthologies of Darie Novăceanu.

[81] The latter book was enthusiastically reviewed in Plural magazine by the writer Octavio Paz, who noted that it was "indispensable" to the study of local surrealism and that it marked the "end of gossip" about the phenomenon.

[9] Meanwhile, Mira Baciu, who discovered her artistic talents and became Mele illustrator, had completed her specialization at the University of Strasbourg under Jacques Borel, she lectured in Spanish language, then became a professor of French.

[87] In addition to putting out Mele and his own works therein, Baciu published the Spanish-language collection of his poetry, El que pierde gana ("He Who Loses Wins", UNAN, 1978) and Pasaporte y pãnuelo ("Passport and Handkerchief", Revista Conservadora del Pensamiento Centroamericano, 1982).

[9][21] These were followed in 1984 by Un rumano en el Istmo ("A Romanian in the Isthmus"), at Universidad Veracruzana; and in 1985 by translations from Lucian Blaga (co-written with Eugenio Montejo),[12] at Fundarte of Caracas,[89] and a Heredia University biography of Francisco Amighetti.

[9] Such figures include Nicolae Carandino, Alexandru Paleologu, Radu Tudoran, Corneliu Coposu, Ion Dezideriu Sîrbu, Constantin Noica, Dan Culcer and Daniela Crăsnaru.

Although [Baciu] is adamant about his refusal of our country's current socio-political system, one may conclude that his literary activity, his propagation of Romanian literature, art and traditions, is positive in nature.

[16] His first surrealist episode was with Start,[96] ridiculed at the time by the mainstream review Viața Românească for its "jolly good" metaphors: "It tells us that hounds feed on warm meat and that legs will sing when they walk.

[68] The poetic cycle shows Baciu as a social critic, repulsed by the luxurious churches surrounded by slums, but also fascinated with the morbid aspects of Bucharest society, from the "grave-blackened women" of Bellu cemetery to the pleasure-seekers on Calea Victoriei—as noted by Cristea-Enache, the latter is merely an anti-capitalist "cliché of that era".

[25] I write Cuba, but think of thee, Romania: of the boots and cannons and tanks and planes as they pour in, seemingly unending, from the East, sealing with a finger the lips of a country.

Now is that hour when the silent folk arises At sleep-time, at night, the prisons exhale and over the waves of the sea, coming and going, we catch a faint noise, that of rattling chains.

Îl chemase Ion N. Theodorescu apoi Tudor Arghezi dar vor mai trebui să treacă o sută de ani până să-i putem spune numele fără silă.