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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2017-08-10 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
I’m more leafless than a tree,
there’s no bird singing on my branches, it’s just the thin wind with cold wings passing by the lands of the north. Layers of haze spread over the forests stay breathless at the edge of days in the dry branches, the earth sleeps, that no trace comes back in sight, no well bends in the waterline to put its stars to sleep. Everything’s strange, my night is from enamel where water sneaks into land. The clouds embrace and gather with lightnings cut through windows. From what I have left in my thoughts, there’ no woman, it’s just my wolf dog and the moon horses under the bare trees along the weeping willows river without any crossing bridge.
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