Bells are
ringing, strong as the Faith,
|
The moment
hurts, the death hurts us,
|
Our life slips
away to the edge of the moon,
|
The wind from our blood some people want.
|
Our vertebras
hurt, our phalanxes hurt,
|
There are
growing algae from soul tears,
|
We don’t turn,
we don’t hope anymore,
|
The passion in
soul, the fir-tree needles in sleep.
|
We dream of
love and freedom,
|
We hate the
silence and we hate the night
|
We conceal creeds
and hope for hopes,
|
The seed is
dry from so many bullets.
|
In secrecy
nights that I can’t sleep,
|
Dreams in
statues-classically I pour,
|
Bells are
ringing, strong as the Faith,
|
The moment
hurts, the death hurts us.
Tr. M.R.M. Monica Rodica Muscalu |
vineri, octombrie 11, 2013
Dream’s statues
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wowwwww Fantastic job!!! I am really glad to see English poem as your! and is amazing that you could express same feelings in English language :)
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