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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2001-12-13 | [This text should be read in romana] |
Incerc sa evadez din realitatea terna,
Si vreau spre mine sa m-aplec lucid, Imi pare insa ca esenta mea eterna, Nu-i decat vag s-ametitor miros fetid! Miros fetid de oameni de mult dusi, Poate de nimeni niciodata plansi! Si-atunci ma-ntreb:"La ce bun oare, sa cauti vraja unei lumi ce moare!" Tristetea mea e plictiseala picuranda, Si e mai rea ca moartea cea mai cruda, Ucide lent,se joaca,rade Si e ciudat caci eu sunt propiu-mi gade!
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