...a passing edition of life...

FIRST PART

 

Remembers of the Life Time


Sometime, even if we die
We still remember…



White birds never die.
Like flowers, they are eternal.
Always, I believe in flowers and white bird
Honey, come with me
showing to you,
only to you,
how marvel is the world of flowers
and white birds.

*
* *

This autumn is coming
like a fancy.
I'm cold
and I closed the door.
It's raining
and you never came.

Oh, everything is dead
in this autumn like a fancy.

*
* *

Alone in the city of stone
I live in the district of stone
on street of stone
in the house of stone.
Here, everyone is of stone
with heart of stone.

Oh, God!
I'm so alone
in the city of stone.

*
* *

It's autumn and I'm thinking
alone in a strange town
that nobody knows me.

Maybe is better so,
wondering on streets,
alone, in a strange town.

*
* *

Now, I never look away.
The autumn urge me forward.
Leaves free from wind
run in the woods.

Oh, leaves, leaves! ...
Take me with you...

*
* *

What a winter!
It's so cold!
What disappointment!

Having nothing in your pocket,
only listening the wind
in the night
and lonely, lonely,
thinking somewhere faraway...

Dream and be happy!
Forget that tomorrow
you have another day of living...

*
* *

Now, when roses are blossoming
in the sunshine,
Honey, let's go in the gardens.

Let's go
when we are young like roses.

Look!
the delicacy of pales
shows us the way of love...

Maybe tomorrow, like them,
we make old.

Honey, let's love roses now,
in the garden of life.

*
* *

The gold of your fingers
is a metal
like any other metal.

The gold does not take off
your old age
and loneliness.

Gold is a metal
like any other metal.

*
* *

In the evenings
I open the window
to see the charm of the night.
But I'm too tired.

In the mornings
I open the window
to see the charm of the daybreak.
But I'm too tired.

Every day only work...
And so we make old.

*
* *

Communist view.

I cross alone the starve town in the night.
Ghosts at windows look the gray of the sky.

Cold and nobody is in the streets.
My footsteps ring on sidewalk
and the shadow lean more and more.

The death with her mowing
comes in the town.

*
* *

Look how this winter
is gone in the fields!
Sunday evening
and you didn't come.

Free under a cold sky
our years are gone
and all this story
seems to be very old.

*
* *

This autumn I'm thinking
to the loneliness of the seas,
shore solitude,
cold sand
and my ice - heart.

Oh, God, I am feeling like Ovidiu
exiled at the Black Sea.

*
* *

The swinging of the reed in the wind
it's so hard, as human despair.

The loneliness of the reed
it's our loneliness.

*
* *

The shivering of your shadow
is as the shivering of the moon over seas
in the blue nights.

I tremble for you,
I'm afraid that the Wind
will take you with him
over the sheen of the seas.

*
* *

When the dawn is coming,
I'm thinking to you.

In the thick of oak woods
still are solitary deer pairs
and I'm dreaming to Arcadia.

Come my darling,
until the last white bird
will die! ...

*
* *

The autumn is coming
see me crying.

I don't know
but there are years
run away...

On paths, in their shivering,
leaves are going for ever
and I wish
in the thick of the woods
lonely to die...

*
* *

Every morning
the sun rises in peace
over the mountains
over the seas...

The herbs call me
from the depth of the woods...

On the wild paths
I'm looking in my heart.
My soul is shivering...

Only the sun
rises in peace
every morning...

*
* *

The autumn with her leaves
I hear from the distance.

There are the signs
of our crossing...

I wish nothing to know! ...

Birds pierce in the sky
and, my wild soul remains
with the deer in the woods.

*
* *

Waiting for you
the autumn was coming
and I am maybe the shadow of a tree
or a path
near the forest

and the lake.

*
* *

When out is raining
I am more alone.

I dream a house
somewhere at the countryside
with trees and gardens.

Thoughts, thoughts! ...

When out is raining
I am more alone.

*
* *

I'm plunged in the silence of steppe,
in the loneliness of seas.

In the night, on wild shores
I'm listening the sound of the moon.

Thrilling of waves and lights
travel by the wind in the horizon.

The sadness of poet Ovidiu
is reflected in the bottom of the sea.

*
* *

As we aid the flowers
let's aid the poet,
as we aid white birds
let's aid the poet,
because the poet is so frail
as flowers and white birds.

*
* *

White nights are going
on fields, on steppe.
Moon is shivering over seas
and somewhere in the mountains snow.

Lonely, on paths I will go
in the depth of the woods
in cold
crying near the deer
with ice soul.

*
* *

It's autumn and maybe tomorrow
I will die on streets
and nobody take care.

It will be there
many leaves
and it will be raining everywhere.

It's autumn and maybe tomorrow.

*
* *

The spring is coming
much as a sign
remember us
that everything
is crossing...

Yes, the spring
is much as a sign.

*
* *

The way of Golgotha is so long
as long is our life.
We beat nails in our souls
one to each other
every day.

Only those who pray in the churches
poor and ill
know where is going
the way of Golgotha.

*
* *

I wait in quiet my end
near the garden of roses.

I know that my soul
will be a bird
flying in the sky
and I also know
that nothing will come back
and happiness
is the irreversible trifle
of our crossing...

I wait in quiet my end
near the garden of roses.

*
* *

The autumn of my mind
was going as leaves over seas.

Will come the coldness,
hard and wild
and I am the leafless oak
in the depth of the winter.

*
* *

In this world
we come alone
and alone we die,
we don't know why
and there are no reasons
to be sad.

*
* *

With an ice eye
I'm looking over woods
when winter comes.

Leaves, as bloody tears
are crying an paths.

Lonely, trees are shivering
under a cold sky.

Somewhere, in the mountains
I see a deer pairs
with ice hearts,
but I know that their warmly love
will cross over

this cold winter.

*
* *

Sometimes,
I close my eyes
and I see
the sky and the sea,
the shore
and you,
walk lonely...

Late remembers
from a forget summer.

*
* *

If you are never listening
the music of violins
in blue nights,
a part of your soul is dead.

If you never wrote a poem
on the moving sand
near the sea and the sky,
a part of your soul is dead.

If you never stop
to listen the song of the birds
in the garden of life,
a part of your soul is death.

If you never think
at the loneliness of old age,
a part of your soul is death.

I stay at the window
and I'm looking over the world:
I see only a few people...

*
* *

Stones are never talking.
They are silent in their happiness.

Lonely,
I wish to be a stone
looking the sky and the seas,
forget the shore
where are my roots.

*
* *

From the window of my room
I'm looking to the factories area.

The trees seem to have no sense
as our life.

The autumn is coming
to take her leaves...

*
* *

I was looking in the mirror
to see my face.

What disappointment!
There isn't even a shadow...

*
* *

This autumn is coming
because I'm more tired
and old.

In the autumn
the flowers have no sense.

*
* *

The autumn is coming

alone on streets.

Cold and rain.

With white hair,

older and older,

as the leaves will die

so will die the poet.

It will come the winter

hard and wild.

But after the death

of my body,

I still hope,

in all my soul,

that the spring

will come again.

 

 

 

SECOND PART

 

Little Pieces of Life

 

My soul

 

On the infinite of sea

without shores,

only the horizon

run the clouds.

 

I remember,

from long time ago,

on the hot sand,

a young man love a woman.

 

As the wind on sky

 lavish the clouds

also the time

lavish our loves.

 

***

September

 

Sometimes,

in the end of September

when leaves are crying in the wild wind,

lonely on shore

I remember you.

 

Life has many ways

and there is nothing to say.

 

Running on sand

early in the morning

I am only waiting The sunrise.

 

Another day will comes

and I know

that I will love

you forever…

 

***

The day of life

For my friend,

James Forte

 

The day was comming

earlier in the morning.

 

Young,

with hair in the wind

I walked outside barefoot

in the cold grass.

 

I was only waiting

the sunrise

over the hills...

 

For me,

the time was infinity...

 

It was

a wonderful summer day:

I ran

I learned

I loved

I wrote

I played

I enjoy the life

 

Late,

in the evening

I see my face

in the mirror:

with white hair

my life was gone

and there is nothing to say.

 

I only ask my wife

to go outside

and see the sky...

 

And I know

that in the deep of universe

there is a star,

only a star

who shine for me...

 

And I also know

that tomorrow

the morning will come

in our garden,

earlier,

with the sunrise

over the hills...

 

***

Summers

 

I run on the sand

in hot summer

somewhere on a shore

 

The sunlight

burn my skin

and I swim

in the sea waves

 

Sometimes,

I look at myself

like in a mirror

reminding me

the lost summers…

 

When you're young,

the time has no end...

 

***

August

 

In the heat of August,

on a peak in Benalmadena hills,

I am looking

over the infinite of sea…

 

Maybe,

I should think

about my existential problems

in a boundless Universe.

 

Under a clear sky,

I dropped the meditation

and I ran

to refresh my body

in the cold water

of the sea…

 

***

The GOD

 

There was a time,

when on the Earth,

The God was come

to lead the believers...

 

There was a time,

when on the Earth,

The God sent his Prophets

 to lead the believers

of all Religions ...

 

Now,

the time has come,

when the believers

of all religions

must get up

to The God..

 

***

Winter in Ulmi

For my friend,

James Forte

 

Somewhere in the East,

far away

through the plains of Baragan,

there, at my house,

the snow storm cover up,

the whole universe ...

 

I locked the door well

and I made heat

in the fireplace ...

 

I'm like Doctor Jivago at Yuriatin ...

 

The cats sit at the window

and the puppy at my feet ...

 

I fell asleep

in the snow storm

from outside…

 

I got old

and I'm happy

that I saw

and understand the World…

 

In the night,

 far away

it hears the bells

of Churches ...

 

***

Golgota

 

When you will climb

the hill of Golgota,

near the Jessus

carrying his cross,

you will never hate

anyone,

all your life...

 

 

The UNIVERSE

In the entire of my life,

I was wishing to know

the Universe.

 

In my own researches,

the God gave me the power of mind

and he enlighted

for me

the Path of Science.

 

Understanding the Universe,

I understood the God…

 

***

My Prayer

 

Lord,

You received with love

 and with an open soul

the Saints near you!

 

Lord,

You received with love

and with an open soul

the Believers near you !

 

Lord,

I am a sinner !

 

Receive me too

near you!

 

This is my Prayer!

 

***

The Life

 

We flew into the space

to see

how big is the darkness

of Universe...

 

We flew into space

to see

how lonely we

are in our galaxy ...

 

If we destroy the Earth,

will die,

also the God !

 

***

The village of Ulmi

For my friend,

James Forte

 

At the end of the world

on the plains of Baragan

in the village of Ulmi,

alone,

I enjoy the clear of the sky.

 

In the Spring,

I enjoy flowers

and also the Summer sun.

 

I enjoy the riches of the Autumn

and the snow

at the window

in Winter...

 

In the village of Ulmi

the time has no begining,

the time has no end.

 

We, passing beings,

in the village of Ulmi,

we come

and go

and we enjoy the life...

 

***

When I will die

Fore my friend,

James Forte

 

When I will die

on the plains of Baragan,

in the village of Ulmi,

the birds will sing

like every year,

their Spring trills…

 

Like birds,

unknown to anyone,

I'm going to die

under the blue sky ...

 

And the life will go on ...

 

***

There was a time when

For my friend,

James Forte

 

There was a time when

through the tall grass

to the waist,

my childhood ran

with me

in the deep of the woods,

under the tall trees

near the springs.

 

And I laughed

under the blue sky.

 

There was a time when

I learned from books

in the quiet of libraries,

and I wished

to change the world.

 

There was a time when

with my backpack

in the back

I traveled

through the wide world.

 

There was a time when

I loved

and I lived.

 

Now, there came a time when

with white hair

I will untie myself

from the world

and in the village of Ulmi,

in my garden

with birds and roses

I will enjoy every sunrise.

 

A time will come when

under the blue sky,

also my soul it will untie

by my passing body.

 

And I will smile…

 

***

In the forest near my village of Ulmi

 

In the forest

near my village of Ulmi,

today,

the spring is came!

 

Aged by the weather

and forgotten by the world,

I took my friend Romeo the puppy,

and I walked

under the crowns

of leafy trees….

 

Here is my childhood!

 

I bent down on the green meadow

and I gathered

a bouquet of wildflowers

for my Mrs. Teacher

of the school... !

 

***

The loneliness of the Earth

 

From the whole Universe,

which we watch

in the night

on the starry sky,

here on Earth,

We,

transient beings,

we have it

only the God!

 

***

Every mornings

For my friend,

James Forte

 

Now,

when I'm old

and gone through life,

I sit and wonder,

why, since I was born

day after day

I ran after ephemeral desires

unremitting…

 

I'm watching at the young

and I see the same run,

the same pass of their time...

 

From my garden of roses,

I hope more like those

who come after me

they will read

at least in old age

these lyrics...

 

Only the sun

rise quietly

over our lives

every mornings ...

 

***

Spring in Benalmadena

 

On the shores

of the Mediterranean Sea,

at Benalmadena

the Spring is eternal.

 

When the sun rises,

over the olive grove,

in my soul

I hoped

that I will never go old...

 

Years have passed

and now when the sun rises

over the sea

 and over the olive grove,

I enjoy in all my heart

that at Benalmadena

the Spring

is eternal...

 

***

The pain of the God

For my friend,

James Forte

 

Being an innocent child,

far away in the mountains

running through the woods

beside streams,

looking at the starry sky,

I have wondered myself:

who am I ?

 

I went to schools to learn,

I went to churches to pray…

 

Living there in the village

between the mountains,

with people of faith

and respect

I didn't know

than only the good...

 

Being a teenager,

from there,

from the high mountains

I watched at the distant

the city...

 

I saw then:

lies, robberies, hatred…

just like Jesus

saw in the Temple

from Jerusalem...

 

Late in the evening,

I returned

 at the little wooden church

from the village

and in my prayer

I understood the God

why he didn't make

us immortals…

 

***

The little Girl from Mariupol

 

When Jesus

went up on the cross

on mount of Golgotha,

crucified alongside of two robbers,

in his suffering

he had the divine power

to forgive ...

 

In the Nobody's war

on the streets of Mariupol

in the innocence of childhood

gone to play

the little Girl

was killed...

 

God,

if you must climbing once again

on the cross

next to the one

who killed the little Girl,

in war,

would you ever

forgive him?

 

The day has gone to sunset,

and in the common pit,

was buried the Soul

of the murdered little Girl

on the streets

of Mariupol...

 

***