the dusk behind the curtains
can be enfolded in a poem
the futile silence of a smile
the heraldic dream
in which only the words exists?
lies are birds
sick of blue pneumonia
the fiord can be enfolded in a poem
or only the hate against oneself?
I wonder how you are
this morning before the solstice
maybe it rains in your thoughts
or maybe the sea is only a comma
in your memories
Translation by Luminita Suse
Poem published in www.literra.eu edited by "Ratsko Romania Projekt" , Oct. 2006