Iunie îmbujorat
Bujori parfumaţi, în toate nuanţele, dintr-o grădină de pe cea mai înflorită străduţă a Braşovului.
Frosty Saturday
Sus pe deal e-un cimitir... Valea din spatele casei... Oana la -15°C... Un motan printre galinacee... Căpriţe pe deal... P.S. Faceţi tot posibilul ca diseară să aveţi 5 minute libere pentru a vă îndrepta privirea către Lună. Cei de la NASA spun că va fi cu 14% mai mare decât o lună plină obişnuită, dar şi cu 40% mai strălucitoare.
Comentarii
you would keep whistling like it was Sunday
though it was Thursday still
the black Thursday
when Judas was counting his pieces of silver
but you knew-it-not
and would not have cared, anyway
you would whistle like it was Sunday
every day
making wide pirouettes
in too narrow a world
just like your grandma once had taught you
in the asylum yard
you kept on whistling
unbothered
airs split on your shoulders
you kept counting craftily
all those seconds since your
parting with me
‘t would be late
if I stopped your endless counting right
now
tomorrow
or some day
but I will come to see you every year
whistling like it’s Sunday
while it is
Thursday
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multumesc pt postarea poeziei mele pe blogul tau,te mai astept prin poeziile mele,
cu prietenie!