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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-10-27 | [Aestu textŭ lipseashti s-hibâ dghivâsitŭ tu romana] | Ânyrâpsitŭ tu bibliotecâ di Ionescu Bogdan
It was a great ship carved from solid gold:
Its masts touched to the skies on uncharted seas; Venus, goddess of love, her hair streaming, her flesh bare, Flaunted herself on the prow beneath a blazing sun. But one night it struck the great reef In that treacherous ocean where the Siren sang, And the horrible shipwreck tilted its keel Into the depths of the abyss, ineluctable coffin. It was a ship of gold whose diaphanous sides Revealed treasures which the profane mariners, Loathing, Hatred, and Neurosis, disputed among themselves. What remains of it in the brief tempest? What has become of my heart, a deserted ship? Alas! It has foundered in the depths of the dream!
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