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Poezii Rom�nesti - Romanian Poetry

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29th of August 1958
poemas [ ]
for Michael Jackson

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
por [Aproape Vie ]

2004-08-30  | [Este texto, tienes que leerlo en english]  

Literary Translation - Translations of classic and original poetry and other materials %Este texto es una continuación  | 



Your day

A breeze, over the breast of the ether.
The implosion of a star – divine dust,
dropped within the womb of a mother.
With its savor of ecstasy,
embodied into the note, predestined to be.
On a rite – rhythm – ritual,
of the universe, dancing, in expansion,
in the core of the beginning’s storm,
in lights frozen within artificiality,
only you and the thunder’s lightning kept alive !
Reminding the sun to rise,
and the moon to meet its decline –
dream-time.
Revived, through the view within heights,
as if, ever fully conscious
of the noble roots – you remained !
Transforming ashes into threads of gold,
as darkness falls into light,
and the bitterness of a tear,
into a sweet melody,
rained over so many thirsty souls,
blooming the flower of their senses.
With the virgin look, of a child, in your eyes,
Flown away, like a fresh breeze of spring,
on the wings of a magical bird,
forming the delicate features
of a face, entwined with Love Itself.
Your hands, my two pianists lovers,
with fingers, long, of living marble,
grown out of creations divine bone.
And your body, fragile as if out of the real,
Abyssal partner, out of (my) infinite,
dancing on the rhythm,
blood-brother,
with the beatings of the universal heart.
Grow, my child, grow...
within the branches of “The Giving Tree”,
tending always higher... even higher,
as to become one with the heights.
In the longing of a shouted memory
and the place of our first embrace.
( It still remained and so it always will, Our First ! )
Out of a moment of August,
it started to scream again,
The Child – to call for US...
Patiently collecting the fruit’s essence
of our, never fulfilled, desire.
The song of your destiny,
still trickling in drops of dew,
on each white, black morning.
Always awakening me,
within the moment of another tomorrow,
because Ours, as well, remained the time,
of another dawn, day, week and month...
And, see here – of another 29th of August, again !


~ Written IN Love and WITH All My Love,
In The Memory Of One Blessed Moment – The One Which Gave Birth To Your Breath Of Life ! ~

.  |










 
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