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■ Pașadine în vers alb (73)
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2017-11-29 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
i have been taken ill
skylines and cemeteries fill my thoughts dead men walk with me in my dreams inches away from my heart a stone stopped beating a girl plucks the heads of the sparrows that dozed off on my windowsill while mumbling to herself some strange wiegenlieds – and the war rages on for another century. the telephone rings in the other room for the fourth time and no one answers the afternoon sun still waits for my prayers i hear the entrance door opening and closing as if the time-of-death pendulum would swing by every two or three minutes patiently watching over me while graceful brand-new ambulances wait outside the door silently but with their bright red and blue lights pulsating of schadenfreude – and the war rages on for another century i was left with only one memory i remember a small german town a half-frozen river a white calf (or a white dog) desperately trying to swim to the other side while the narrator voice tells the story of its demise a watchtower a labyrinth of narrow streets and the cold hand i was fearlessly holding as if to say come, i know where we’re going just minutes before ending up somewhere in the mid twentieth century (this is how love was like, I thought) while trying to turn them into clocks I failed and bent all crosses into swastikas – and the war raged on for another century.
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