Poetry (0.048s) Poetry, prose, essays, comments, poems - International Culture and Literature

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  How the love recovers ::


How the love recovers
essay [ ]

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by Horiana Emanuela Taru [Emma]

2007-12-13  |     | 



In a sunset of spring…the day announces the end.
I gathered up my hair, I took my brush and I left home…
I was 16 years old… The youth filled up my eyes with light… I was a child… Love didn’t announce me with tinkling of bells...
For few days I searched to catch the sunset on my white paper. I went on the waterside with the joy in my hand. I had there an unknown place, from where I could admire free the entire splendor of spring sunset…
At that time I reached earlier…
I set down on the grass, I leaned my head of a willow tree and I began to hear the silence…then, my hand made the last rosy nuances. I looked at it and I smiled satisfied. I closed my eyes…I was thinking… What a great surprise will be at home… Nobody knows about this… And it was my first better realization… But I heard rustle in a bush near me…
A man… Tall, with the hair like oak trees’ leaves in autumn, with the eyes taken by the seas’ emerald; he came near me…
One moment I had the idea to run, but him hand extended to me…
- What are you doing here, alone?
- I drew the sunset! The sunset, the most beautiful moment of the day…
- Give me your painting, and I’ll give you back the love… And his hand touched me softly…The love? It came to me with the night’s waves, with the mysterious sunset…
With the eyes closed, I gave the painting. Love… My chest got an unknown balsam…The young man took for a second my head bright by the sun rays and his lips picked up flowers from my lips…
Later, I opened my eyes…I was alone…Full of love, I traveled all over the love’s world…Sun and fragility…In the flowers a child played. It was so beautiful and his eyes were full of dreams. I asked him: “Where are you from?” He answered me: “From the nature’s heart. My father is the dream, and my mother is the joy”. And I told him: “I am from the thoughts’ world. My father is the unforeseen, and my mother is nostalgia!” And I kissed him, and he smiled to me like an angel…
We knew each other and we didn’t meet anytime!
I went slowly home when the stars shined sly…
The summer passed slowly and after it, the autumn. The love’s messenger came every day… We stayed quiet in the grass…He sang joy’s hymns, sang his love… I painted and shook my hair, I threw my happiness on the love’s shoulders…
We walked together all over the dream’s alleys, we gathered bells from the love’s ground…We built castles from perfume of flowers, then we idealized our desires…
The rosy sunset gave us out love paradise!

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Poetry (0.050s) Poetry, prose, essays, comments, poems - International Culture and Literature

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