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■ I know what you're thinking, father
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2002-06-27 | [This text should be read in romana] | Submited by Cristina Petrache
Convertirea nebunului
Convertirea nebunului Oh aiurit imi prepar ingerul in eprubeta, lampa maninca ziar blinda si analfabeta. Parca muscat de-un indemn lucrul isi iese din fire, pieptan un scaun de lemn beau inacrita psaltire. Nunti se-ntetesc prin vecini ploaia coboara in simburi, mortii isi poarta senini singele galben pe cimpuri. Vin saltimbancii din sud plini de pecingini si raze, slava e si-n asternut slava chiar si in obraz e. Cind sa le strig ca-n zadar cred in cometa lor chioara, simt cum ma umplu de har simt cum ma nasc din fecioara.
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