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
disco elegies
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