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■ Pașadine în vers alb (73)
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2015-03-16 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] | is reflecting the white cloud of my heart stands full of useless clothes worn souls In the street of warm hearts, cold stained glass Is falling asleep painted by angels with hands of Manole Black Icar's wings are flapping their helplessness Like a bat flapping its thirst of dark Your eyes are carving in me blue silences Forget-me-nots stalagmites dumb bones My irises are absorbing the steam of the colours Which keeps leaking pathetically From the vandalized stained glass The town is drinking the chrism of the dumb rains, Buying disillusions, sharing milipedes / splendour in grass/ Painting the happiness of shaking stars. Separating the unleashed ocean by the Dead Sea. (still) Drawing a map or a halt, Letting the wolves to tear with their claws Thousands of shop windows You drink your bitter happiness in the unpaved street The ladder of heart carved on the granite marble of light Is leaning on the shattered-glassed sky The dark inside of me is blossoming (too) angelically the roses/ the stained glass of a pink rainbow/ The love wizard of Oz.
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