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imaginea utilizatorului vultur

Au moment où j’avais surgi

Au moment où j’avais surgi
Sur la voie absolue, par le temps tracée
Je croyais marcher à l'infini
Sur la redoute révolue de l’empyrée

Vers la route de l’échelle je m’élevais
Pour agrandir l’énigme du monde clair
Et je m’émerveillais de vivre les degrés
De l’aventure sacrée de la lumière

Mes feux brillaient dans le ciel sans tarir
Et je me voyais un roi de la jeunesse
Mais j’ai compris que l’on naît pour mourir
Que vers la mort on s’achemine sans cesse

imaginea utilizatorului marlena

קצב העולמות בעבר ובעתיד המדבר

ritmul deșertului, ritmul lumilor trecătore, le rythme désertique des mondes passés et futurs

אין סימן
כי הכול סימן.

כשתבין
את קצב העולמות
בעבר ובעתיד המדבר
גרגר נוכחותך
יתביית על אי יציבותה
של דיונה.
החול ישמור צללים והדים
קצב אחד יקלוט מעברים
ומשב הרוח ינעץ אותך
בתוך הסחרור

בינתיים
תראה את עצמך
בראי ההד

אתה תעצור את הסחרור

nici un reper
totul
fiind reper

imaginea utilizatorului solomon

Collage in Hermitage

The Surreal Museum “For The Art's Sake”

Her black glove is flying across downtown.
“A crow!” they shouted. “A crow is attacking Eiffel Tour!”
...cry of a rooster/the goat is smiling...

She knows/He knows.
“Purple and white, of course!”

A wedding for a happy end.
A picture for a wedding.
The glove has no wing.
Just a small hole through
thick and thin.
Kept especially for the sixth finger.

imaginea utilizatorului Virgil

i really don't think that i care

...

i really don't think that i care
about what i care for
you make me doubt and dream
of a certain edge of the world
in every step i take
over the cliff

deep wounds are like broken bells
same sound but different
voices and wolves everywhere
you made me hate symbols
now i hate everything
that doesn't cry

i stay with you in me sometimes
until nothing happens

imaginea utilizatorului marinela_p

Mystery of perfect couple

Mystery

Marriage as a granary where
our feelings and innocence are sheltered
where we fly each time like invisible angels
over the city and location of work,
where crickets are heard every summer night
here poppies burn even at night
hotter and more blessed
than on any field in love with the sun,
that is the meeting place of our souls,
where it is always spring-summer,

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