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Era vremea parfumului de iasomie,
pretuiam starea de vege intr-atat incat nu inchideam un ochi, iar somnul venea venea suierand prin copacii pustiiti de soarta placerii. Imi picau roadele noptii peste nori pufosi de praf iar secera lunii imi oglindea fata prea hada in marea pustiita. Mai ieri sorbeam soarele vietii cand dintr-o clipa in alta pocneam din tandrete cu suflet. Impreuna sarutam strugurii toamna, iarna vorbeam cu fulgii de zapada iar primavara dansam printre firele tandre de iarba si flori albastre.
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