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| [Aestu textŭ lipseashti s-hibâ dghivâsitŭ tu english]
In soul and in spikes the life is gathered
Without keeping any memory, I and the grass, my only sister, In the graveyards, we grow happily. The sky is holding above us, Without knowing, paths of stars And the same rain will wet us, From his tender and blue eyes, I and the grass we bow to sun, Along all springs, just dreaming, To bring to sight as in a bow All the gold that we are stealing… We love this world with all its beauty, But is so thin our life straw, The same scythe searching for us, To bow us both, I and the grass.
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Casa a Literaturiljei, a poeziljei shi a culturâljei. Ânyrâpsea sh-hârsea-ti di articoli, eseuri, prozâ, poezie clasicâ sh-antritseri (concursuri). | ![]() | |||||||
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