LEADING-ON MY FOREHEAD-THOUGHTS

I deepened my eyes-in night,opening a dreamy gateway.

As stars-of cotton candy-thoughts,

white-are,fluffy-are,

spoiled with the feeling-of childhood.

Over closed eyelids were hidden-in mystery-the eyes,

magic balls,dark glaze.

In my beating heart I gathered,from daylight,a glimpse from life-of world,

like into a carousel-the memories...scattered and funny pictures,spinning-in circle,

like a child,who gathering-in his warm palms,golden-beauty-of sunbeams...gentle warmth-of love.

Like drops-of spring,

coming down wandering from mountain to the dark depths-of the earth...

as the first word,

uttered at the beginning-of the world-velvety thoughts,

fall-on moss rocks,

waiting like fireflies,hidden among the leaves...

the first glimmers-in the morning,

the first rays-of the sun,

the rustle-of the first steps...a glimpse from life-of the world.

RAYS-OF LIGHT

Rays-of light...hide-in the sky,
like ripples water-of the spring,...wandering,whispering,...playful and uneasy,in the silence of the night

The moon let down the corolla rays-high,above the well sweep,
braided haired dark blue,as sky,
beautiful-is Desra.

I keep-in my palms red berries collected from rose hip,
squatting will fall asleep moments,
like stars along the trail.

Can be heard the echo-of silence,hidden among the rocks,
it's time for beautiful elves-words...
...to wrap-in whispering their prayer,as -in an hidden silky veil,throughout the earth...

With burning heart frame-in my cold palms red berries, collected from hip rose...small seeds,
like-in a glimpse, they lovely melting.

The seeds-of love,rays-of my dream,
kept as fruits on Desra tresses,
in the thrill of my heart will remain as the word-of -love bless this.

EMBALMED LEAVES SPINNING-IN CIRCLE,STORIES

Among the white stones,lumps-of earth,
to the roots-of trees,the seeds,
from abyss a whisper murmuring.

Stars shine from above,sealing like in a dream,footpaths,
embalmed leaves spinning-in circle,stories wipes hurry their tracks.

Sometimes we arrived at the place...sometimes,the memories,
they sneak through  tears,like sweet and bitter cherries.

Gray clouds,the walls-thoughts,playful and puny,
they look-in night, how Desra weave,beautiful veils.

From deep-my heart a whisper broke my senses,
with hot tears and numb,I lit the white-in dreams... the candles.

IT SNEAKS THROUGH THE TREES,THE WIND...

Push slowly withered leaf,the wind,weaving colored and fragrant tiaras.

Scattered them among the brushwood,leaves-of the heart-sign,as in an unread book,the words.

It sneaks through the trees,wind,...as Fairies,

looking for the place and fortune.

In their small fists and reddened,Fairies

gathered-in haste scented brushwood-of forest tree...

to make hut-in glade,

to rest to tell stories,they may rejoice.

Looking up at blue sky,they let down-the braids,braided desires,...Fairies.

In Spring waves were mirrored stars...birds have gathered-in echo,trills,calling the chamois.

The dens of the mountains,ghosts,wait with joy and fear Dawn,to warm the Earth.

At night,my fear was dispelled,as a white coral berry,caught the mischievous wind-in Desra tresses.

ITS LIKE AN ECHO-IN TWILIGHT

Rustle forest calling-in whispers,golden leaves and frosting,fallen from trees.

Can be heard echoing the grove in which increased as a hope hidden in the depths,bluebells,

like the rainbow stripes when come after the rain...

It is restful mornings

fleeting touched the wings of angels?

I lean my forehead at the tree roots...or thoughts

Into the night Desra tresses fallen like darkened veils over waters,a prayer...heart fire...

Can be heard quietly flowing stream,

the rustle of fallen leaves on wet moss at the tree roots.

Like a  cherub...joined himself to my heart,...like a cherub,

with his temple glued to my dream,...like a cherub,

looking for my words,beautiful elves hidden-in leaf,...like a cherub.

Dark saying-of love,forgotten,torn,fragrant..like tear my eyes as drops of morning dew.

Like a cherub wandered through thoughts,

he raised his beautiful wings coloring my sky,

putting near my forehead,the rainbow,...like a cherub.

Lost in thoughts,Desra blinked,scattering from a chalice,autumnal scent-of leaves,

remained fresh and the same as last winter.

THE SILENCE OF LEAVES

Hidden-in heart,like in a rock-desires,

the ocean worn over the waters...loneliness.

Messengers-of words with drooping wings-the silence of leaves,hanging like rags-in trees,

on thousands of pathways,

the arrows fly-sky high.

A flock-of birds take on its wings the colors-of autumn,like a memory of childhood ...stories,

Cups leafless-the trees,

with forehead lean upon heaven,follow the rainbow...

Passed through the fire-of love...they are blind.

Sprinkling with plush seeds-chrysanthemums,covered graves...inside this,

beautiful box heart place,

forever with faith-in love embrace.

PEARLS-OF DREAMS

Leaf rust-thoughts,passed through the fire-of love...shadows,
like a glove,covering the earth with beauty.

Wings-of birds-in memories soar into the sky...pearls-of dreams,
forgotten among the rocks.

Rays-of light spinning-in rosy colors-of dawn...blink around.

A skim coat...sweet burden-of height...fragrance-in Autumn.

AS IN A CONCH,PEARLS

Fell over stones rocks from heights-tight,

in stream ,water waves whirling-hiding at the lip-of spring.

Gathered tingly and withered-the leaves,frosting leaves-in the moonlight.

Like a myrrh,moments-thoughts,

they put on their shoulders the signs-signs,brought by the wind.

As in  a conch ,pearls-moments fallen in my heart,

as in a herbarium ,the memories-charming memories,parchment,embalmed.

AS THE CHILDISH SHADOW OF THE WORDS

I gathered in my heart candor-of love,pearls,
diamonds hidden among the leaves,soft berries,with touch-of vellum.

I wear on my shoulders passing of the years,that old walnut in the garden-of grandparents,
encrypted shadows on the leaves,the seasons-lovely painting,
with strong perfume and discreet,my beautiful words.

As the flight-of turtle doves were shaken leaves,scattered themselves,
and much farther for walnut,
covering like a coat-of elves,childish shadow of the words.

Much closer to Heaven eyelid,beauty inside-heartbeat,
is heard as an echo-vaulted sky over the carpet leaves.

I gathered beauty,for the time that has remained-as beads  on a sheepskin coat with cunning work.

Distracted by leaves,a kindly fire,lit with dry twigs,
a touch -of cold wind.

As drops-of water from the jug,
stardust scented berries-soft memories,
as the childish shadow of the words...I gathered.
 

WILL LEAVE THE BIRDS

Is laid hoard frost among the grass...will leave the birds.

In flying arrows they start to fly to warmer places...will leave the birds.

Hidden in story will overshadow paths,
my steps will hide under a silver veil...preserved moments,
as doves with hidden wings.

Moments-the moments remaining in my heart untouched,fragrant,playful.
Moments-the moments from early childhood,
hidden in a glove.

They fly...the birds,bringing with them the moments...in passing sign.

Frosting little stars will adorn the branches...forgotten moments-the moments,
hidden under a golden carpet-of frosting leaves.

My steps,they stopped into the night,
wasting my fear as the cries-of birds,
moments-the moments...of love,
kept in hand-here at the gate Time.

THE NECKLACE FANTASIES OF AUTUMN

Silver stars of star dust and reddish rays brought by the wind,
woven like a precious canvas from the crown of the sun...silver stars ,they caress the twigs.

Over the Earth,delayed Autumn,
has placed her brown veil with white frost,embroidery of elves...fresh-in the air,kept-waves,
like deep in the woods-the paths,fluffy,barely-glimpsed,
a maze ray-gray,dense,misunderstood.

I wasted in the fragrant air,
like a tree his perfume branches,
wasted my thoughts,
seeking for the path that as a child,I hid it in a story...

Silver pearls beads ,scattered in a box for toys,
silver pearls scented,like the feeling remained in my heart.

Caught like a bead in a necklace fantasies of Autumn,
put my forehead near the first tree branches met on the road and wait,
as in a prayer,
beautiful words to caress my heart.

A FAN OF COLORS IN SUNLIGHT OF THE MORNING

A fan of colors in sunlight of the morning,...a fan of colors,
impressive as a fresh greeting sent from the heavens on Earth.

A rainbow of colors especially in the morning,...light.
Has crept through a curtain,made his way  close to my heart.

Cross my breath and open my eyes,
in heart is coming the sky...and pray.

As a mystery that has left,a pearly veil,
sweet memories,like pearls,
as walnuts broken in the porch.

Nuts,with white and fragrant core,
nuts,hidden into fists,
sweet nuts,fragrant as veils Autumn left on the fields,...bitter-memories.

Ripe nuts,beaten with the wood,...nuts,
which fell through the grass,...nuts.

At it seems that Autumn was hiding in my heart,
looking for his way back home,
and it seems that memories collected in the summer,
have passed like a tear,
closed in my heart,...a myrrh.

Fresh morning,wonderful rainbow,
a fan of colors set with tenderness in my heart...

It snowing.
white frost of silver stars stopped in my palm...a kiss,
the first snowflakes of snow...veil -of rainbow.

IT IS THE LEAF

It is the leaf,as a clam printed in the ruby...in my palm,
as the sun in twilight,a rainbow hidden stars.

It is the leaf,as a heart that still beats...vibrating silently with the wind-the thought,nearer the earth.

It is the leaf,as a mystery hidden among rocks...whispering with moss,colorful words.

It is the leaf a gentle prayer...frosting silver pearls-beautiful words.

Hidden among the grass,as a shinning shadow...it is the leaf,
embrace in the morning light...the trust.

In the night,she split off,as a beetle,from a budding thread of bluish rose...buds,
like the sky in twilight,shy,sweet as a kiss.

It is the leaf,as the good...the spring whispered her yearning...hear heart,the spring.

It is the leaf,like a ruby diamond-heart,enriching the cloak of roses.

In my palm,as the sun in twilight,a rainbow hidden stars.

CA NECTARUL-LIKE NECTAR

• Stand in asteptare,ca trandafirii si dovlecii,pere frumoase,tamaioase,adunu-n miezul lor,statornicia Anotimpurilor.In Vale,Roata Olarului se-nvarte-ncet.Din pietricelele de la Izvor,macina usor seminte transparente,bune pentru plamadeala.Apoi pune cate-un strop de apa,inmiresmata de aerul proaspat al diminetii.Apa pe piatra si piatra pe apa,asa se face Urciorul.Chiar si muntii cei carunti cu Cerbul,s-au invrednicit de Roata Olarului.Sa se statorniceasca langa matca Izvorului,oricat de instrainati ar fi.Sa asculte Vanturile,sa primeneasca picaturile de roua care se aseaza tacute pe tulpina ferigilor,care ascund,ca o taina, necunoscutele comori ale Padurii..Seceratorii fluiera in munti,de la un capat la altul al Pamantului,in diminetile in care nici macar zborul sagetat al vrabiilor nu se face auzit.Doar saltul lacustelor printre firele de iarba mai amintesc de trecerea lor.Asez Urciorul langa buturuga.Facut de mana Olarului ca sa adaposteasca Harta cu drumurile si placuta argintata cu Legile,va fi ascuns de piatra stancilor,in tropotul cadentat al Cerbului,pana la chemarea Izvorului.Ca o para tamaioasa ascunsa tainic de cupola catedralei in sunetul transparent al clopotelor,asa s-a desavarsit si Urciorul Olarului.Gustul acesta este atat de placut ca nectarul florilor de pe camp,amintind parca trecerea clipelor,atunci cand Timpul isi aseaza haina alaturi de rugul cu trandafiri,ca sa se odihneasca.
• Stand waiting as roses and pumpinks,pears beautiful muscadine,gathered in their core steadfastness Seasons.In Valley.the potter's wheel-spinning slowly.From gravel to the spring,transparent dust grains easily grind good dough.Then put each one drop of water,fresh fragrant air of the morning.Water on stone and stone water,pitcher is so.Even those gray mountains with deer,were worthy of the potter's wheel.To settle near Spring stock no matter how estranged they are.To listen to the winds,to renew the dew drops that sits silent on stem ferns,that will hide as a mystery the unknown treasures of the forest..Reapers whistle in the mountains from one end to another of the Earth,in the mornings even sparrows flight is not heard.Just jump through the blades of grass locusts now remember their passing.Pitcher sit near stump.Potter's hand made to shelter the road map and silver plate laws,will be hidden by stone rocks in rhythm clatter of deer,up to call Spring.As a muscadine pear,hidden in mysterious dome of the cathedral bells sound transparent,so it was perfect,Potter Pitcher.That taste is so nice as the nectar of flowers of the field,reminding passing moments like when Time sits with rose bush to rest.

CA PERLELE DIN ADANCUL OCEANULUI-AS PEARLS FROM THE DEPTH OF OCEAN

• M-am aplecat peste marginea Curcubeului.Ganduri,amintiri,sentimente,invalmasite si inghesuite se rostogolesc din Cer,ca stropi de roua argintii.In zbor rotit alunecand in jos,se repezesc pripite si rusinate ca n-au reusit sa puna in traistuta nici o firimitura din menire.Norii acopera campia,impodobita cu lanuri aurii de grau.In adierea vantului,spice jucause ca niste carabusi,isi spun povestea de iubire.Cu sunet matasos de tamburina se prind in dansul Ielelor frumoaselor,asteptand Seceratorii.La marginea drumului,fire de iarba ca soldatei,cu varfurile pe jumatate arse-n vant ca sabii se vor refugia tacute intr-o noapte stelara, cealalta jumatate verde pastrand-o cu radacina la Izvor.Prind in palme puful intarziat al papadiilor ca si cum as deschide un Oracol.Dincolo de geana Cerului,inca mai sunt prunci care trebuie sa poarte pe umerii lor atatea amintiri cate n-au reusit parintii lor sa duca.Tacuti si cu ochii umezi,ca perlele din adancul oceanelor,isi asteapta parintii,sa le prinda mainile si sa le arate Lumea ca o Imparatie, Anotimpurile ca Tablouri pe un perete imaginar si Harta pe care sunt insemnate Drumurile.Ielele frumoasele au trecut de Poarta Zorilor.Asezandu-se printre buruienile cu samanta inflorita,tes din fire argintii de praf stelar o minunata panza de paianjen.Bucuroase ca au gasit placuta,prind in tesatura stropii argintii de roua de la marginea Curcubeului.Ca niste mori de vant,buruienile acopera placuta pana la topirea pinzelor.Fiara insetata,da tarcoale ca sa citeasca Drumurile.Asezata de Seceratori deasupra Hartei ,placuta va lumina din Intuneric cu fascicule de lumina argintii, imaginea perlata a Anotimpurilor.
• I leaned over the edge of the Rainbow.Thoughts,memories,feelings,clutter and cramped roll from heaven like dew drops of silver.In glinding flight turned down rushed,hasty and ashamed that they have managed to put in bag any crumb of purpose.The clouds cover the plain adorned with with golden wheat fields.In the breeze,ears playfull like blinds,they tell the story of love.Silky sound of tambourine,cling in the dance of Beautiful Elves,waiting for the Reapers.On the road,blades of grass as soldiers,with peaks of half-burned-in wind as swords will silently refuge in a stellar night keeping the other half green with a root in spring.Catch in my hands,fluff delayed of dandelions like I open an oracle.Beyond eyelash Heaven,are still babies have to wear on their shoulders every so memories of their parents did not have to go.Quietly and the moist eyes as pearls from the dephts of the oceans await parents,their little hands to catch them and show them the world as like a kingdom,Seasons like pictures on a imaginary wall and Maps of roads that are significant.Beautiful Elves Down passed Gate.Sitting among flowering weeds with seed,silver threads woven in a beautiful star dust swirls.Gladly to have found the plate catch in texture silver drew drops from edge of the rainbow.Like windmills,weeds cover plate to melt webs.Thirsty Beast roaring to read roads.Located by the Reapers over Maps,the Plate will light the dark beams of light silver pearl pictureSeasons.

CERCEI LA BUZA CRENGILOR-EARRINGS,THE LIP BRANCHES

• Mladitele galbene de marar au umplut gradinile.Palarii cu borul larg si miros de farmacii,si-au pus semnul trecerii peste Pamant.Cirese somnoroase,margelate si parfumate,ca Mataniile,s-au prins ca cercei,de buza crengilor.In umbra frunzelor,visine timide privesc printre gene,parca n-ar mai vrea sa fie culese.Doua cruci,ca doua unghiuri:dulce-aromat si acrisor-insangerat,s-au pus de straja la cumpana fantanii.Una spre Est,foarte aproape de Pamant,iar alta spre Vest,foarte departe,aproape de Cer.Din cel mai sigur punct al Fantanii,in ciripit de vrabiute,umbra celor doua cruci,s-a ridicat incet,ca un voal catifelat,ascunzandu-se in taina norilor albi.Se contopesc in crucifix,ca o ancora fixata puternic in Prezent.De atunci,de cand cu impartirea painilor,din aproape in aproape,ascunsi sub pervazul Cerului,intram in Natura,ca printr-o usa.Atat de aproape si celest,incat,atingand cu palmele,o frunza cazuta,ca un zbor obosit,ai putea simti cum pulseaza,cu efervescenta inversunata,Abisul.Ca o chemare,ca o atingere,ca o incatusare mult asteptata,pe care nicicand nu o vei uita,pentru ca gustul amar si dulce al fructelor,te imbie in fiecare dimineata,ascuns in umbra minunat de tandra a iubirii.
• Yellow sprouts of dill filled gardens.Hats with wide brim and smell pharmacies have made Earth crossing sign.Cherries,sleepy,seed beads,such as scented rosary were caught earrings the lip branches.In shadow leaves,sour cherries shy,look among genes,like it would not like to be picked.Two crosses,that two angels:sweet-flavored and sour-bloody,have put for watch on sweep fountain.One towards the East,close to the Earth,and one to the West,far away,close to heaven.From the Fountain safest point,in chirping of sparrows,the shadow of the two crosses,rose slowly,like a soft veil,hiding in mystery white clouds.Merge the cross,as an anchor,firmly fixed in the present.Since then,when the division bread,step by step,hidden under the sill of Heaven,get into nature,as through a door.So close and celestial,that, with palms touching a fallen leaf,like a tired fly,you could feel the pulsing,effervescent with bitter,the abyss.As a calling,as a touch,as a fetter,more expected that you will not never forget that the taste bitter and sweet of fruits,invites you every morning,hidden in the shadow wonderfully tender love.

CEARTA DIN FANTANA-STRIFE IN WELL

• Rasturnate peste Roata de Foc a Fantanii,Ielele frumoasele s-au pus pe ales apa de apa,undele de curgerea lor,curentul de bulboana-Spatiul deschis de Spatiul inchis,deschiderea spre lume de chemarea in Adancuri.Fiara are cunostinta de cei care murdaresc Pamantul si cauta printre radacinile copacilor,gustul amar al Nostalgiei.Noapte de noapte urca din Adanc in sus spre Cer,cete de licurici.Undeva,pe fundul Fantanii,spre curgerea Izvorului,zace insingurata o placuta argintie.Este foarte important ca Ielele frumoasele sa gaseasca placuta.Aici a cazut un trup ca pietrele de la picioarele prostituatei.Sub acest Nuc si-a pus Soldatul mana la piept.Rusinat de tacerea pietrelor si-a scuturat tunica de faramiturile de paine si s-a calugarit.Plecase spre Apus sa prinda o raza de soare,sa si-o puna-n piept in locul placutei de argint.Vrand sa-si astampere setea,si-a scapat placuta in Fantana ,apoi a adormit.Prind in palme puful papadiilor,adus in taina de adierea vantului caldut.La buza Fantanii stele coboara lin ca licurici,picurand usor.Cu umbra asezata dincolo de pleoapa Cerului,tufe de crini solitari,ca toiegele mosnegilor asculta zvonul vantului:"Sa nu ucizi-Sa nu-ti faci chip cioplit."Cuvinte schiopatand ranite,pierdute-acum si rastignite pe care-n jocul lor,Ielele frumoasele le-au gasit cand s-au certat.Ridic tacuta ciobul unui urcior spart si uitat.In zbor tremurat,licurici picati din Cer langa Fantana alina durerea pietrei.Astept.Ghemuita intr-un Cerc Boltit adanc in Trei Unghiuri ca de Foc,ascunsa in Abis printre tenebre,placuta argintata este impinsa-n sus printr-o misterioasa hipnoza.Srijinita fiind de cele doua unghiuri aduna ca-ntr-un Clopot,inlauntrul ei,toata puterea Lumii.Intre Cer si Pamant,Ielele frumoasele inconjoara,infioara,invartesc si scutura Fantana,tufele de crini,Samanta,placuta si faramiturile de paine intr-un vartej nebun.Zarurile au fost aruncate in cioburi pe Pamant:gasindu-le,parintilor dandu-le,sa faca Urciorul si sa-i astampere Dorul.Inlauntrul Triunghiului pana la rasaritul Soarelui,clopote bat usor.Cerbi chemati de ape asculta-n tacere ecoul Nostalgiei frangand sub copite primele frunze de Nuc cazute la buza Fantanii.
• Overturned above Weel of Fire Fountain,Beautiful Elves distinguish in particular,water of water,waves of their flow,wirlpool stream,opend space and closed space, to the world by calling into the dephts. Beast knows of those dirthy earth and seek among the roots of trees,the bitter taste of Nostalgia.Nightly climb from the dephts up to heaven groups of fireflies.Somewhere at the bottom of the well to flow source,lies a lone silver plate.It is very important for Beautiful Elves to find the plate.Here feel a body,as stones at the feet of the prostitute.Under the Walnut soldier put his hand to his chest.Ashamed of silence shook stones bread crumbs pilgrims and monks.Gone to the West to catch a ray of sun,and a put-in chest instead of silver plate.Wanting to quench thirst in the well plate and then dropped asleep.Fluff hands come in dandelions,smuggled the warm breeze.The fountain lip,stars down smoothly,as fireflies,dripping slightly.The shadow across the eyelid Heaven seated,solitary bushes lilies as grandfathers rods,hear rumors wind:"Do not kill"-"Do not make your idol".Limp words hurt,lost and crucified,whom did their game rumored,Beautiful Elves they found when they quarreled.Quietly pick up brokenshard of a pitcher once and forgotten.In flight trembling,dropped from heaven fireflies beside stone fountain mend hurt.Wait.Crouched in a circle  vaulted three angles of fir, hidden among the darkness Abyss,silver plate is pushed upwards by a mysterious hypnosis.Being resting by two angles,gather as a bell within it,all the power of the world.Between Heaven and Earth,Beautiful Elves surrounds,shudder,shake and spin well,bushes lilies,seed,plate and crumbs of bread in a crazy whirlwind.The dice have been thrown in shards on Earth;finding them,parents give them,to make pitcher,and quench his desire.Inside the triangle,until sunrise,bells beat easily.Called waters deers hear the echo of nostalgia in silence,breaking the first walnut leaves under hooves feel at Fountain lip.

CLIPIREA UNDELOR-FLASHING WAVES

• Mladita din Samanta boltind in sus spre Cer,isi cere partea sa de mostenire.Strabatand adancimile Pamantului,s-a indreptat insetata spre Izvor.Din Abis a luat apoi o parte din vesnicie,pentru toate clipele care vor trece ca un fior pe langa fruntea sa.Prinzand in Sine clipirea undelor a strapuns pulpa Pamantului.Cu mugurul indreptat spre Cer,asteapta sa se statorniceasca pe acest razor.Esenta sa fi fost sau Os lasat in viata sub pamant?Izvorul a curatat razorul si a cuprins mladita.Acum pot sa ascult soaptele radacinilor.Cresterea lor este ca un cantec incetinel,insa smulse din pamant scrasnesc neimpacate. Privesc in treacat spre poteca dinspre Munte.Drumetul si-a pus bocceaua-n spate si dus a fost.Adunase de pe camp flori de sunatoare si musetel pentru ceaiul de acasa.Ridicat in cununa pe fruntea capitelor,fanul proaspat cosit inmiresmeaza aerul.Mladita se inalta mangaiata usor de adierea vantului,intr-o splendoare de culori din praf de stele.Cerul s-a acoperit,ca o plecaciune in fata Icoanelor"Cate oase atatea mladite,cate flori atatea miresme"-murmurand usor,Ielele frumoasele isi fac cununa.Se apropie Sanzienele.
• Offshoot of the seed vault up to the sky ask for part of his legacy.It crosses Earth"s depths,he turned thirsty for spring.From the Abyss then took a part of eternity for all the moments that will pass as a thrill over his forehead.Wearing in himself where he pierced thigh flashing Earth.With buds pointing to the sky waiting to settle on this patch.Its essence was or Bone,living left in the ground?Spring clean the patch and covered the shoot.Now I can hear whispers roots.Their growth is a song that gently but ripped from the ground unrelenting grind.I look to the path passing from the Mount.Hiking and put the bundle on his back and was gone.Gathered from the field of hay and chamomile flowers for tea home.High in the crown of the forehead cocks freshly mown hay fragrant evening air.The shoot is slightly comforted by the wind high in a splendor of colors of star dust.The sky was covered as a bow in front of icons."How many bones as many shoots,each flower as many scents"-babbling slightly,Beautiful Elves make their crown Sanziene is coming.

CUVINTE NEROSTITE-UNSPOKEN WORDS

• Ca niste scuturi grele taioase si reci,cuvinte nerostite cad ca oglinzi in jurul meu..Duc palmele la ochi. Cerul parca s-a coborat langa mine ca sa ma apere,punand la bataie toata armata ostirilor stelare.Caut o carte pierduta cand cu zvonirea Cuvintelor.In acest loc Ielele frumoasele si-au pus palmele fierbinti peste fruntea mea.Aici pastrez toate amintirile si dorintele smulse din inima atat de dureros,ca spinii.Pe aceste strazi am copilarit si mi-am pus palmele pe aceiasi copaci,care si astazi,pastreaza neschimbat,parfumul copilariei.Imagini dragi,au ramas ca urme sculptate pe trunchiul lor.In gradinile din Parc,Statuile parca vorbesc.Cu ochii intorsi inlauntrul lor,cladesc minunate Palate de clestar.Ca niste parinti,pastreaza un loc sigur pentru toti cei care se vor adaposti la umbra lor.De la fantana din mijlocul aleii,copiii arunca-n joaca stropi de apa-n sus spre Cer,privindu-le apoi caderea in zbor sagetat in jos.Un fluturas alb,adus in graba de caldura diminetii imi indreapta pasii spre corola cu frunze a  batranului Stejar.Sus,spre Cer,stropi de lumina se cern vrajiti printre frunze,alunecand usor in jos,la radacina Copacului.Ca o pasare cu zborul cazut pe Pamant,Cartea ma asteapta. Pierduta candva in vartejul clipelor,mi-a pastrat  toate amintirile-n Cuvinte.Ca imagini ascunse, le bagam in buzunarul nostru,strengareste..Cuvinte nerostite,asemenea frunzelor arse de vant se aseaza usor la umbra statuilor.Inalt Cartea spre Cer.In zbor rotit,Ielele frumoasele coboara-n jos,ridicandu-se apoi ca fluturi albi,dincolo de corola copacilor,ca sa imbratiseze Cerul.
• Like a heavy shields,sharp and cold,unspoken words that mirrors fall around me..I put my palms on the eyes.The sky came down beside me as if to protect me,putting the entire army flight stellar hosts.Looking for a lost book when have rumored Words.In this place Beautiful Elves have put their hot hands over my head.Here I keep all the memories and desires of the heart so painfully torn as thorns.On these streets I grew up and put my palms on the same tree,which keeps unchanged today,the scent of childhood.Pictures loved,have remained carved marks on their trunk.In the gardens of the park,talking statues.With eyes turned inward inside them,build wonderful palaces of crystal.Like parents,keep a safe place for everyone to be their shelter in the shade.From the fountain in the middle of the alley,children throw drops of water in play up to the sky,then watching them fall down arrow in flight.A white butterfly,brought morning rush of heat turns my steps towards the corolla of the Old Oak Leaf.Upwards into the sky,drops of light bewitched sifted through the leaves,gently gliding down to the roots of the tree.Like a bird in flight feel to the Earth,the Book waiting for me.Someday lost in the whirlwind of moments,Book has kept me all the memories in Keywords.As a hidden pictures,stuffing them in our pocket,sprightly.Unspoken words like leaves burned slightly wind sits in the shadow of statues.High Book to Sky.In Flight rotated,Beautiful Elves going down and then rising as white butterflies,trees beyond the corolla,to embrace the sky.
  

CU BRATELE INCARCATE DE FLORI-WITH ARMS FULL OF FLOWERS

• Am lasat usa bisericii deschisa si-am pornit grabita spre Izvor.Ca un pelerin,mirosul de tamaie ma insoteste pe drum.Se strecoara in preajma mea pentru a pecetlui amintirile,lucrurile,Calatoria si Locul.Din Munte s-a pornit un freamat de vant uscat.Am pus o candela in traista.Ca o cetate asediata,Padurea isi cheama Aparatorii.De la Portile Rasaritului s-a pornit un zvon cum ca lucrurile stiute nu vor mai fi.Fiara infometata da tarcoale Izvorului,ca sa zdrobeasca ciupercile.Purtata de vantul amiezii,zadarniceste drumul spre apa al caprioarelor.La chemarea Cerbului,Ciutele speriate isi croiesc drum prin Padure.Bat cu copita in locul ramas gol.Acolo am sa pun candela aprinsa.Frunze arse de caldura se aseaza tacute in frunzis,ca un avertisment.Ciocarlia s-a ascuns si nestiuta,isi curata hainuta.La strigatul Vulturului va porni ca o sageata-n sus,spre Soare,ca sa-i smulga Toiagul.Ielele frumoasele vor statornici din nou Anotimpurile,pe care Fiara a vrut sa le ascunda-n stanci cand a zdrobit ciupercile.Isi vor incrucisa bratele peste Padure,se vor zvoni si se vor rostogoli ca ciulinii,chicotind si imbrancindu-se pana la Maracinis.Vor lovi cu Toiagul in pamantul mocirlos si vor alunga Fiara.Prinzand in palme Toiagul,imi amintesc de o dimineata de vara cand bunica mea stropea  florile-n gradina.Aceasta amintire si lucrurile pe care le-am pastrat din ea sunt ca binefacerea pe care o facea ori de cate ori venea la noi cu bratele incarcate de flori.
• I left the church door opened and I started to hurry spring.As a pilgrim,the smell of incense accompanying me on the road.Strain in to seal around Me memory,things,travel and The place.From the Mountain has started a dry rustling.I put a candle in my bag.As a city besieged,Forest calls his defenders.From the Eastern Gates has started a rumor that the known things would not be.Hungry beast,roaring the Spring,to crush mushrooms.Worn by the afternoon wind,water foiled way to the deer.In calling the Deer,scared Hints make their way through the forest.Hoof knock instead remained empty.There I was put candle lit.Leaves sit silent heat burned the foliage,as a warning.The skylark was hidden and unknown,his coat clean.On Eagle"s cry will start as an arrow up to the Sun to grab him The scepter.Beautiful Elves will settle back seasons beast wanted to hide in the rocks when he crush the mushrooms.They will cross their arms over Forest,will be rumored as thistles and will roll over,giggling and being shoved up the briers.They strike with the rod in the marshy land and will banish the beast.Catching rod in my hands,I remember one summer morning when my grandmother sprinkling flowers in the garden.This memory and the things I kept from it are like a blessing that she did,whenever came to us with arms full of flowers.

CUMPANA FANTANII-THE SWEEP

• Dincolo de dealul acesta cresc tufisuri cu mure.Cu palmele intepate de ghimpi duc Murele la gura.Gustul acesta dulce si parfumat imi aminteste intotdeauna de Calea Ingerilor.De atata singuratate trupul obosit cade pe camp ca un crucifix.Inca o data,in Cer se deschide o Poarta,ca sa treaca Ingerii.Asezati pe cale,Norii albi isi mangaie Stapanii,fiind ca un balsam in Calatoria lor prin Univers.Cand se vor intoarce din Calatorie,Ingerii vor purta pe frunte Semnul Pamantului.Obositi si impovarati,vor adormi la umbra fantanilor.Norii albi,ca niste mercenari,vor duce umbra Semnului in curtea bisericii.Tulburati si confuzi,Ingerii le vor cere plata.Si astfel,in mijlocul amiezii,chiar in curtea bisericii,Norii se vor scutura si vor pleca.Stropii de ploaie vor cadea ca banuti peste pietrele albe ale cimitirului,strecurandu-se apoi ca un Hoinar printre morminte.Ma aplec peste cumpana fantanii si ating cu palma Cerul .Banutii adunati am sa-i dau ca Ort pentru cei pentru care nu aprinde nimeni nici o lumanare.
• Beyond this hill with blackberry bushes grow.With palms stung by the barbs go blackberrys in the mouth.Sweet and fragrant taste it always reminds me of Angel Way.From so solitude,tired body is on the field as a crucifix.Once again,in Heaven opens a gate to cross the Angels.Place Path,Withe Clouds caress their masters were like a balm on their journey across the Universe.When they return of the journey,the Angels will carry sign forehead of Earth.Weary and burdened wells will sleep in the shade.White clouds,like mercenaries,will lead the churchyard shadow sign.Troubled and confused,the angels will ask for payment.So in mid afternoon even in the churchyard,clouds will shake and leave.Drops of rain will fall like pennies over the white stones of the cemetery,then creep up as a wandering among the tombs.I leaned over the sweep and palm sky.The small coins have gathered to give that Ort,those for wich no one lights a candle.

ZORNAIND LANTURILE-JINGLE CHAINS

• Strigatul Pasarilor din inaltul Cerului-chemarea Zborului la o Rascruce.Aici e Locul in care,obosit de Calatorie te odihnesti si pornesti din nou pe un Drum tainic si cunoscut.Rascrucea te asteapta intotdeauna la capatul Drumului.Ca o Margareta de pe camp,iti primeste trupul insetat intre petale,pe covorul galben si catifelat al Corolei.Soarele,ca un banut,s-a transformat intr-un punct luminos spre care vei porni.Cate margarete atatea rascruci,cate pasari atatea strigate.Trebuie sa pastram Lanturile,ca o mostenire Zornaindu-le pe Pamant,trupul isi face legatura spre Locul de unde a pornit.Ca un Toiag,Locul acesta este binecuvantat inca de atunci de cand,facandu-si plimbarea de dimineata,Ingerii nu stiau cum sa calce prin Dumbrava ca sa nu striveasca Margaretele.
• Birds scream from the sky-flight calling at a crossroads.This a place where,tired of Journey rest and start again on a mysterious way and knew.Crossroads always waiting at the end of the road.As a Daisy from the field,your body gets thirsty between petals and velvety carpet of yellow corolla.Sun,a penny has turned into a bright point to where you started.How many stars so many crossroads,as many birds as many screams.We need to keep the chains,as a legacy.Jingle on the Earth,the body is connection to the place where it started.As a staff,since the place is blessed since then,making their morning walk,Angels do not know how to walk through the Grove not to squash the daisies in their steps.

MAREA CALATORIE-GREAT JOURNEY

• Trecerea Timpului peste unduirea de Izvor a pietrelor,ca limpezirea palmelor,asezate in fata jgheabului,de unde va curge Izvorul.Cadere lina ,cristalina,adaugata,numarata in clipe,ca trosnetul genunilor in Intuneric.Fi-va ecoul Inceputului,adaugat Timpului,Adanc descoperit de umbre,care nu se schimba.Fi-va clipa adaugata peste pietre,ca un taciune ars,o licarire inflacarata,cazuta din inima Muntelui.Pornisem din zori spre creasta,sa ascult ecoul clipelor,ascunse ca intr-un tunel,in pieptul meu.Sa ascult,asezata cu genunchii stransi,pe o buturuga,cum inima mea bate,ca aripile soimului,inaltandu-se tot mai sus,in zbor rotit.Picaturi de roua,aduse sagalnic de vantul hoinar,ascunse printre muguri,se aseaza timide pe palma mea,in semnul Izvorului,ingemanand,ca niste lacrimi ascunse,trecerea Timpului.Si,parca,nimic nu e ascuns aici,privind nemarginirea,caci inima mea,ca o pasare speriata,cu trupul obosit,se odihneste,hranindu-se,cu clipele aduse-n zbor,pe aripi,plapande clipe,cazand ca picaturi de roua,in Abis.Privesc Izvorul,si-ascult acum,prin ecoul dintre stanci,fosnetul Padurii.Si,parca,Timpul s-a oprit,sa asculte trecerea undelor de aer,printre mugurii brazilor,si,parca,picaturi,pastrate cu grija in cupola mugurilor,primesc acum metamorfoza,pregatind,cu grija,sufletul meu,pentru Marea Calatorie.Cobor in vale,sa-mi pun talpile fierbinti pe pietrele ude si reci ale Izvorului,sa petrec,cu palmele,unde cristaline,adunand,in taina,ca o mireasma,farmecul povestilor spuse de bunica,atunci cand,luand fusul in mainile-i trudite,se uita cu atata caldura in ochii mei,incat intregul loc se transforma,ca pe o poarta nevazuta,Timpul,in locul minunat,pe care,copil fiind,inca nu stiam ca poate fi pecetluit cu lacrimi,ca niste picaturi de roua,in Trupul Ielelor frumoaselor,Izvorul Cuvintelor,pregatit de la inceput.
• Passage of time over waving stones,that rinse palms,placed in the right gutter,where it will flow spring.Gentle fall,crystalline,added,numbered in the moments that tick abyss in darkness.Will be echoing the beginning,added Time,Deep shadows discovered not change.Will be moment,added over rocks,like a canker burned a fiery glimpse,fallen from heart of the mountain.Start from dawn to ridge,to hear echoing moments,hidden,as in a tunnel in my chest.Listening,sitting with knees raised on a stump,as my heart beats,that hawk wings,rising higher,turned-in-flight.Drops of dew brought mischievous,the wanderer wind,hidden among the buds,shy sits on my hand,in sign of Spring,gathering,like hidden tears,over time.And,if nothing is hidden here,the infinite,for my heart,like a scared bird the tired body,resting,feeding on moments,brough-in-flight,the wings,fragile moments,falling like dew drops in abyss.I look the spring,listen now,the echoing of the rocks,the rustle of the forest.And,if,time stopped,listening waves of air passing through the leaves of trees,and,if,drops,carefully preserved in bud dome,now get metamorphosis and prepared with care my soul,to the Great Journey.Pass into the valey,to get my hot feet,on wet and cold stones of the fountain,to watch with palms,crystal waves,gathering in secret as a fragrance,charm stories,told by grandma when taking spindle into her weary hands,looked into my eyes with so much warmth,that the entire place is transformed,as an unseen gate,at the wonderful place,that as a child still did not know that can be sealed with tears,like drops of dew,on body of Beautiful Elves,Spring words,prepared from the beginning.

PICATURILE DE ROUA ALE DIMINETII-THE MORNING DEW DROPS

• Pastrand ca pe un tezaur,picaturile de roua ale diminetii,fire de iarba,ca niste soldatei,incolonati de-a lungul Potecii,asteapta sa duca-n Lume,Povestea,ascunsa ca o lacrima,in semintele papadiilor.Unde de aer,trimise de-un vant molatic,se strecoara printre pietre,adapostindu-se,ca Ielele frumoasele,printre crengile inflorite ale copacilor.Involburate si tacute,asculta curgerea Izvorului din Munte,cautand albia apei,printre radacinile copacilor.Ca un tumult ,inmanunchiat de forte ascunse de tenebre,ca niste lanturi asezate pe Pamant,radacinile copacilor si-au infipt,cu sarguinta degetele,insemnand locul,veacul.Cand eram copil,ma ascundeam printre firele de iarba,ca sa-mi ascult pasii,ramasi ca niste urme,in campul cu trifoi,apoi paseam cu grija pe covorul verde,sa-i simt prospetimea.Petale de vis peste ochi imi cadeau,alungand teama,si alergam spre o lume minunata ascunsa in inima,pastrata ca o comoara insemnata de Cer.Ascunzandu-se de umbre,acest indemn al firii,mi-a imbogatit copilaria,iar acum,privind din ascunzisul Padurii,poteca ce duce catre casa,o amintire fierbinte cade din inima mea,topindu-se in undele de aer,printre crengile copacilor.As vrea sa-i ating urma,dar topindu-se grabita in inserarea ce se lasa,mi se aseaza pe frunte,ca un strop fermecat din manunchiul de raze ale soarelui,in asfintit.
• Keep it as a treasure,droplets of morning dew,fresh grass blades,like soldiers,lined up along the path,waiting to lead in the world,Storry,hidden like a tear in dandelions seeds.Air waves send by a slow wind,strain among rocks sheltered it,like elves,among the blooming trees.Swirling and silent,listening Spring flow in the Mountain,looking water bed,among the roots of trees.When I was a child,I hid among the blades of grass,listen to my foot steps,left like traces in the clover field,and then pass with care,green carpet,to feel fresheness of.As a flurry,combined of forces hidden by darkness,like chains,lay on the ground,tree roots have diligently stuck fingers,mark the place,the age.Dream petals feel over my eyes,dispelling fear,and ran into a wonderful world,hidden in the heart,preserved as a significant treasure of heaven.Hiding in of shadows,the urge of the nature,has enriched my childhood,and now,concerning,of hiding Forest,the trail wich leads to the house,a hot reminder drops from my heart melts into air waves,among tree branches.I want to touch trace,but melting hastening grow dark,what is left,sits on my forehead,like a magic touch,the bunch of rays of sunshine in dusk.

INIMA SI URCIORUL-HEART AND JUG

• Sunt atatea ulcioare cate inimi de profeti.Batranii povestesc ca,prin aceste locuri s-au perindat,ca norii,calatori insetati,cu fruntea indreptata spre Cer.De pe acest colt de stanca,pelerinii au coborat,tinand in maini,ulciorul.Profetul si-a rupt camasa,si-a dezlegat sandalele,pierzandu-si urma prin Padure.Ridicand ulciorul sfaramat de pe coltul stancii,am regasit un bob dintr-o samanta,ascuns in umbra.Cu invelisul invechit si spart,cu miezul alb,inmiresmat.Cu palarii de papadii,zvonind din varful Muntelui,Ielele frumoasele s-au prins in joc,sa ma-nsoteasca spre locul de veghe ,unde profetul a stat.Cat de adanci i-au fost privirile,asa si taina sa,cat de adanca:ulciorul ducand sa nu se zdrobeasca,apa vie din ulcior sa nu se injumatateasca.Curgerea izvorului sa le primeasca si iubirea,si rugaciunea,si jertfa,si gazduirea.
• There are so many jugs how many are the hearts of the prophets.Elders tell that in these places there have been,like clouds,thirsty travelers,with forehead toward heaven.From this corner of rock,pilgrims came down,holding hands,jug.On the way to spring,jug has rolled.Prophet broke his shirt,then he loosed sandals,losing his tracks in the woods.Raising the jug shattered on the rock corner,I found a grain of a seed hidden in shadow.The shell,old and broken,white crumb,fragrant.With the hats of dandelions,rumored in the mountain,the Beautiful Elves were caught in game,to accompany me to the place of waking,where the prophet spent.How deep have been the eyes,so mystery its,how deep:leading jug,not to crush it,living water from the jug,not to halve.Spring flow to receive them,prayer,love,sacrifice and hosting.

IN SEMNUL NOPTII,UN LICURICI-IN THE SIGN OF NIGHT A FIREFLY

• Pornesc spre Izvor.In vale se aude curgerea apei.Cerul instelat este atat de boltit,incat,privind printre degete,haloul ramas in undele de aer,imi pare a fi o catedrala.Cat de ascuns e zvonul,cat de infiorata bataia inimii,ca o purificare intr-un templu uitat in timp.Astept tacuta,ca Ielele frumoasele,ca niste regine ale noptii,purtand in plete parfum inmiresmat din praf de stele,sa deschida Poarta care duce spre Izvor.Timide,tacute,cu ochi stralucitori,ascunzandu-se in dans pribeag printre copaci,s-au asezat in palma mea,ca niste picaturi de roua.Cerbul Muntelui scormoneste neancetat cu copita,spre locul care duce in Adanc.In semnul pamantului reavan,se deschide Poarta,prin care,trecand ca un print,cu nari frematand de dor si insetat,trebuie sa bea din apa de Izvor,ascunsa in umbra tenebrelor.Ca niste licurici,lanturile cad incet,in iarba.Pietre ramase pe stanci,se rostogolesc in taina,ca bataile unei inimi in noaptea instelata,asternand pe fruntea mea,ca picaturi de roua,dulcea sarutare a Ielelor frumoaselor.In semnul noptii,un licurici,ca un menestrel trimis din Cer,asteapta in iarba,sa puna seminte de lumina in urma pasilor mei,ca niste felinare,sa nu uit niciodata drumul spre Izvor.Ascult insetata curgerea apei,atat de pura,de inmiresmata si de rece,incat firimiturile de paine culese de la masa Stapanului,se transforma in balsam,in Ungerea de care trupul meu are nevoie pentru urcus.
• Start to Spring.In the valley you can hear water flowing.Starry sky is so arch,that on among the fingers,halo remained in the air waves,I seem to be a cathedral.How hidden is rumor,how creepy heartbeat,as a purification in the temple looked time.Wait quietly,that Beautiful Elves,like queens of the night,wearing in hair fragrant perfume of star dust,open the Gate wich leads to spring.Shy,silent,with bright eyes,hiding-in wandering dance through the trees were settled in my palm,like drops of dew.Deer Mountain burrows with hoof to the place that leads into the abyss.In the moist earth sign,it opens the door,wich,moving like a prince,with flickering nostrils of longing and thirsting,need to drink from spring water,hidden-in the shadows of darkness.Like fireflies,chains are falling slowly in the grass.Stones left on the rocks roll-in mystery,that beats of a heart-in starry night,dusting on my forehead,that drops of dew,a sweet kiss of Beautiful Elves.In the sign of the night,a firefly,like a minstrel sent from heaven,waiting in the grass,to lay light seeds,following my steps,like lamps,never forget the way to Spring.Listen thirsty water flow,so pure,fragrant and cold,that the bread crumbs collected  from the Master table,turns in balm,in anointing that my body needs to climb.

SI,PARCA N-AS MAI PLECA,PARCA N-AS STA-AND,THOUGH I WOULD NOT GO,THOUGH I WOULD STAY

• Poteca aceasta duce spre pajiste.In maracinis,cerul pare acoperit.Aerul a devenit o povara mult prea grea,si as vrea sa ma asez pe o buturuga.Cu palmele ranite de spinii din maracini,ating usor fire de iarba,ascunse de paienjenisul crengilor uscate,ca niste brate increstate,vremelnice semne ale Anotimpurilor.Bulgari de pamant reavan,cuceritoare boltiri ale tenebrelor in ascunzis,se sfarma sub pasii mei,ca fosnetul frunzelor cazute printre copaci.Pe drumul spre pajiste,se aude cantecul incetinit al greierului,si nechezatul cailor,care cauta cu narile frematand de placere,parfumul florilor ascunse in buchetul firelor de iarba.In zbor,aripile insectelor,ca si clipele,lasa urme de pulbere stelara,un parfum racoros,efemer.Cu umerii intorsi spre Padure,aud pasii sovaitori,ca de naluca,ai Fiarei,care ma urmareste,ascunzandu-se printre maracini,dorind sa-mi smulga din inima Mostenirea.Ca un ucenic ostenit,caut geana de lumina,sa potrivesc tainicele chemari din Adanc.Ca intr-o vraja a trecerii,adun vreascuri uscate,fosnind duios si-ncetinit,ca pasii unui copil pierdut pe drum,privind jucariile din vitrina unui magazin.Si,parca n-as mai pleca,parca n-as sta.Adun vreascuri uscate,fosnind duios si-ncetinit,cazute in locul de unde o vrabiuta a tasnit,ca o speranta,cautand,in zbor rotit,lumina de la capatul potecii.
• The trail leads to the meadow.In briers,the sky seems covered.The air has become a burden too heavy,and I want to sit on a stump.With hands hurt by thorns of thistles,flick blades of grass,hidden in cobwebs dry branches,like arms thriving,temporary signs of the seasons.Moist clods,arching charming of darkness in hiding,it breaks under my steps,like rustling of leaves fallen trees.On the way to meadow,heard the crickets song slowed down,and horses neigh,looking with nostrils flickering of pleasure,fragrance of flowers,hidden in the grass.In flight,wings of insects,like the moments,leaving traces by star dust,cool perfume,ephemeral.With shoulders return to Forest hear wavering steps,as ghost of the Beast,who following me,hiding amond the thistles,wanting to grab from my heart,heritage.As a tired apprentice,looking eyelash light,to match the mysterious call of the Deep.As a spell of passing,gather dry twigs,rustling sweet and slowed,like steps of a child lost on the road,the toys in a shop window.And,though I would not go,though I would stay.Gather dry twigs,rustling sweet and slowed,hanging in the place when a sparrow has sprung,like a hope,looking-in rotated flight,the light at the end of trail.

IN ZBOR ADAUGAT-THE ADDED FLIGHT

• Fosneste,cazand ca o mangaiere,pe fruntea mea,asternand,prin freamatul undelor de aer,parfumul calatoriilor,cu intrebari ramase fara raspuns.Ca o aripa cazute pe pleoape-clipa aceasta vie,am s-o pastrez frematand de iubire,in inima mea.Ca intr-un templu al iubirii,Ielele frumoasele s-au asezat in locul de unde Pasarile isi iau zborul spre inima Muntelui.In zbor adaugat,razele Soarelui se rotesc,ascunse de umbra Padurii,cautand locul in care se vor intoarce.Ating cu palma coltul unui nor,impletind inele de visuri,din boboitele de roua,cazute pe varful firelor de iarba.In cantecul ascuns al cucilor-ecoul inaltimilor,in ascunzisul Padurii-urma cerbului,in nechezatul cailor-adancimile inconjurate ale fantanii.Ca intr-un templu al iubirii,Ielele frumoasele si-au pus mana streasina la ochi,privind in departare spre mijlocul Muntelui,ascultand,cu inima frematand de bucurie,cum pasii mei obositi,au gasit poteca de urcus,calcand cu grija printre pietre,printre firele de iarba,printre flori.
• Rustled falling like a caress on my forehead,dusting,by rustling the air waves,perfume journeys with unanswered questions.As a wing hanging eyelids,this moment,I should keep it alive,flickering of love in my heart.As in a temple of love.Beautiful Elves settled in the place where birds take their flight to the mountain.In flight added,sunlight turn hidden by shadow Woods,seeking its place that will return.Touch,palm,corner of a cloud,braided rings of dreams,from berries of dew,fallen on top of blades of grass.The hidden song Cuckoo-echo heights in hidding Forest-trace deer,in neigh horses-sourrounded depths of the fountain.As in a temple of love,Beautiful Elves have put hand eaves eyes,looking away,the middle mountain,listening,flickering heart with joy,how tired my steps found the path ascent,stepping with care among stones,among blades of grass,among the flowers.

CU STELE-N FANTANI-THE STARS-IN WELLS

• Ma aplec in Adanc,ca sa ascult cuvintele inteleptilor.Cu pasi marunti pornesc spre o fantana,atingand,in treacat,cu fruntea,umbra pridvorului ce sta sa cada.Ca un glas taraganat,lantul invechit al cumpenei,scoate un jalnic suspin,ca o povara grea,ca si cum ar trebui sa duca pe umeri,intreg Universul rasturnat in Adanc.Ca intr-o metamorfoza a Iubirii,patrunsa in adancul Pamantului,Izvorul urca incet,spre Curcubeu.Cu stele-n fantani,Pamantul se odihneste.Veniti,Ielelor frumoaselor,sa scoatem din Adanc,bacsisul pe care l-au lasat Ingerii,cand,trecand peste creasta dealului,si-au adus aminte ca sunt insetati.
• I lean into the Deep,to listen the wise words.Start with small steps toward a well,reaching in passing,forehead,the shade of porch about to fall.As a drawling voice,old chain the sweep well,take a sad sigh,like a heavy burden,as should lead to shoulders the entire universe toppled into the Abyss.As a metamorphosis of Love,inspireed deep Earth,spring up slowly,to Rainbow.With stars in wells,earth rests.Come,Beautiful Elves,to out of the Deep,tip left the Angels,when,passing over the crest of the hill,they remember that they are thirsty.

IMAGINI ASCUNSE SI STIUTE-HIDDEN PICTURES AND KNEW

• Calauzit prin undele de aer,dinspre Valea Caramidarului se aude sunetul taraganat al roatei,imbratisand,ca intr-o unduire de valuri ascunse in nisip,taina lutului.Se astern,ca intr-un vis,imagini ascunse in cuvinte,ramase ca semne pe buza ulciorului.Bobite de visuri prinse ca intr-un ghem,tras din fuiorul razelor,in noptile cu luna plina,se ingramadesc in lut,pecetluind,pentru o clipa,trecerea.Incatusate cuvinte ascunse in umbra,se strecoara ca niste matanii,printre degetele Ielelor frumoaselor.Ascunse de paienjenisul Padurii,prins ca un voal argintiu de crengile brazilor,nestatornice,stinghere si tacute,murmurand adaugat inspre vale,Ielele frumoasele asteapta Ucenicii,sa le fie calauze prin locurile in care s-au statornicit bulgarii de pamant cuvantatori,pastrati ca o mostenire,ramasa prin trecerea timpului.Sunt locuri in care pamantul sta sa cada,acoperit de stanci razlete,adaugandu-si mantia zdrentuita,ca intr-o rugaciune cu fruntea indreptata spre Cer,in Calea Ingerilor.Prins ca un lacat printre radacini,pamantul asteapta sa fie descoperit,ca o poarta uitata de la inceputuri,aruncand cate o privire timida spre locuri stiute de genuni,ascunse in intuneric.Razlete raze de lumina,incalzesc,ca intr-un balsam,materia,adaugand,prin zborul insectelor in aer,culori din flori si cantecul necurmat al greierilor,raspunzand ca un ecou,freamatului dinspre stanci.Ascunse in ulcior,de valurite semne,adaugate-n taina nepieritoarelor genuni,ca intr-o scoica,ganduri spre nevazute valuri,in nopti cu luna plina,se tes ,ca intr-o panza,imaginile zilei,vuind ca un ecou,adaugat in taina de mesterul olar.
• Guided by waves of air,from the Valley brickyard,is heard delayed sound of wheels,embracing,as in a ripple of waves hidden in sand,clay mystery.It lie,as in a dream,pictures,hidden words left that signs,the lip jug.Berries of dreams,caught as in a ball,drew from the bundle rays,full moon nights,they pile in clay,sealing,for moment,the passage.Hancuffed words hidden in shadow,filter,like rosary among fingers of Beautiful Elves.Hidden by cobwebs Forest,caught like a silver veil,the branches of trees,fickle,perch and quiet,murmuring said,toward the valley,Beautiful Elves expects disciples to be their guides in places where they have settled,clods words,keep as a legacy,left by the passage of time.There are places where the earth is about to fall,covered with loose rocks,adding his torn cloak,as if in prayer,with forehead toward heaven on Angels Path.Caught like a lock among roots,ground waiting to be discovered,like a forgotten gate in the beginning,throwing each a glance shy,to places known by abyss,hidden on darkness.Scattered rays of light,heat like a balm,matter,adding,by flying insects in the air,colors of flowers and continually song,the crickets,responding as an echo from the rocks bustle.Hidden in jug,by waves signs,added to the mystery imperishable abyss,as in a shell,thoughts to unseen waves in the full moon nights are woven as in a cloth,pictures day,roaring like an echo,added on secret,by master potter.

AZURUL CA UN HOINAR-AZURE LIKE A WANDERER

• Acoperita ca un voal de nostalgia atator dimineti,pornesc prin Valea Muntelui.Sub pasii mei,pamantul reavan,cazut peste noapte de pe copitele caprioarelor,freamata,ca sub atingerea aripilor stravezii ale unui spiridus.Cu fruntea indreptata spre Cer,ascult cum curge Izvorul.Mugurii copacilor sunt pregatiti sa dea in floare.M-am intors din maruntaiele Pamantului si port pe trup semnul intunericului din genuni. In acest loc se afla Poarta Adancurilor,locuinta inmiresmata a spiridusilor,in care se zamislesc visuri ciudate,asternute ca un polen multicolor,peste nedeslusitele ecouri ale Intunericului.Deschid lacatul si ma opresc in mijlocul acestui univers impietrit,ca o picatura de apa vie,cazuta din Cer.In cercuri concentrice,din ce in ce mai largi,cad ca o petala,bobita de vis,din launtrul careia se aud tot mai puternic bataile inimii,ca sunetele cristaline ale clopotelor din turla catedralei,cuprinzand,ca un voal magic de iubire,imprejurimile nepatrunselor carari ale Abisului.Cu frica in priviri cat Cerul,ating cu palmele,pietre ramase de la inceputuri,cand cuvintele se rastalmaceau in apele Izvorului.Intunericul ma primeste in casa lui.De atat singuratate,legaturile copacilor se prind ca intr-o imbratisare,ca sa nu raceasca.Aici,printre umbrele tenebrelor,primesc in inima soaptele Izvorului.ca o binecuvantare.Sagetatoare umbre,ca niste liane aduse de ganduri,se ascund in urma mea,incercand sa-mi cuprinda fiinta,sa imi opreasca trecerea.De aici,din acest imens locas al singuratatii,nu mi-e mai frica,pentru ca stiu ca apa duce catre Cer.Cuprinsa de un neasteptat sentiment al trecerii ,imi ridic ochii spre Cer,ca sa-i ascult cresterea.Cercuri concentrice aduse de ganduri,cheama,prin bataile inimii,ca un ecou straveziu purtat pe aripi,de ingeri,intoarcerea Ielelor frumoaselor,sa zadarniceasca,prin dans,nelinistitele liane intunecate ale tenebrelor.Si,ca un voal straveziu,iubirea ma cuprinde,ridicand trupul meu spre lumina,asezandu-mi trecerea pe firele de iarba,impodobite de picaturile de roua ale diminetii.Cu genele intredeschise,inlacrimate,Ielele frumoasele ating,in taina,inima mea.Ascult in tacere cantecul greierilor,ca un zvon tremurat,purtat pe aripi de spiridusi.Ca niste cirese dulci,zemoase,bataile cadentate ale inimii se lovesc,acum,de fruntea mea.Printre degete,Azurul,ca un hoinar,s-a ratacit,ca sa-mi aminteasca,sa nu uit niciodata drumul catre casa.
• Covered with a veil of nostalgia that so many mornings,starting through Mountain Valley.Under my steps,moist ground,fell overnight on deer hooves on the trail,shudder,as in achieving flimsy wings,of a brownie.With forehead toward heaven,listening to flowing spring.Tree buds are ready to give in bloom.I turned the bowels of the earth,and wear on the body,dark mark from naught.In this place is deep Gate,fragrant home of elves,that is conceived,strange dreams,fall like a multicolored pollen over uncertain echoes of darkness.Open the lock and stop in the middle of this universe hardened as a drop of living water fell from the sky.The concentric circles of the wider fall like a petal,pearls dream,from within which is heard more and more powerful,heart rate,crystalline sounds of bells of the cathedral,including as a magic veil of love,unfathomable surroundings paths of the Abyss.With fear in my eyes,as Heaven,reach with palms stones left over from the beginning,when words are twisted in the water Spring.Darkness accept me into his house.So much loneliness,bonds trees cling like a hug,not cool.Here,among the shadows of darkness,received into the heart,whispering Spring,a blessing.Piercing shadows,like lianas,brought of thoughts,hiding behind me,trying to contain my being,to stop my passage.Here in this huge house of loneliness,I'm more afraid not,for I know that water goes to Heaven.Seized with a sudden feeling of the passage,I looked up to heaven,to listen growth.Concentric circles brought of thoughts,called by heartbeat,echoing stone,worm on the wings of angels,returning Beautiful Elves,frustrate through dance,lianas restless dark of darkness.And like a gauzy veil,love embrace me,lifting my body to the light,settling my passage on the grass,trimmed drops of morning dew.Eyelashes parted with tears,Beautiful Elves reach,in secret,my heart.Listen in silence,crickets,as a rumor trembling,carried on the wings of elves.Like sweet cherries,juicy,heart beat rhythm,it hit my forehead now.Among fingers,azure like a wanderer,got lost so that I remember,never forget the road home.

DE 70 DE ORI CATE 7-70 TIMES BY 7

• Sa ucizi,intr-o lume perfecta,sa ucizi toate cuvintele.Sa ucizi bobite de lacrimi ce curg pe pamant,ca o crestere.Sa ucizi lumina,iubirea,nemarginirea,atat de aproape de inima ta,incat versul,ca un voal ancestral se topeste,curgand pe pamant.Cum ai putea,Pamantule,sa iti zadarnicesti schimbarea? Cum ai putea,Intunericule,sa iti adaugi lucrarea tesuta in nopti adanci,din trupul Ielelor frumoaselor?Cu mana intinsa atat de aproape de inima ta,trecut-au anii,si Timpul ramas-a neschimbat.Adanc este Cerul,acum aplecat spre ochii sperantei.Adanca e noaptea,si cat de adanca?Adanc aplecat,Adanc neschimbat,cum ai putea sa primesti cu ochii inlacrimati,un singur cuvant?Adanc aplecat,nu te-ai schimbat,Adanc ,aplecat peste trupul Ielelor frumoaselor,Adanc,aplecat in nemarginire.Fi-va ziua,mireasa ta?Fi-va iubirea,pecetea ta?Va fi cuvantul,atat de stingher,incat in noptile cu luna,ca un mesager al astrelor,sa cheme in ecou,cu lacrimi de inger,ca un lup,iubirea pierduta,ca o mireasa,in lumea perfecta,fara lumina,fara speranta,fara alinare?Necontenit e strigatul,cazuta-i speranta,in lumea perfecta ce-o purtam in taina,pe umerii goi.Cuvinte cazute ca lacrimi pe cripta,cuvinte indoliate,pe care niciodata,atingerea ingerilor nu le va curata.De 70 de ori cate 7,cazute pe morminte,ce tainica putere,cand in lumea perfecta,speranta a murit.Cazut e voalul peste minuni,cazut,ca o lacrima ce nu se va sterge,caci,omul,ca inger,nicicand nu va mai fi.
• To kill in perfect world,to kill all the words.To kill pearls of tears flowing on the ground,as an increase.To kill, light,love,infinity,so close to your heart,that verse as an ancestral veil melts,flowing to earth.How could earth,it thwarts your change?How could Darkness,to add your canvas,woven deep nights,from body of Beautiful Elves?With helping hand so close to your heart,years went by,and time remains unchanged.Deep is the sky now leaning towards eyes of hope.Deep is the night,and how deep?Deeply leaning,Deep unchanged,as you could get,watery eyes,a single word?Leaned deeply,you have not changed,Deep leaned over body Beautiful Elves,Deep leaned in infinity.Will be the day your bride?It will be love your seal?Word be so lonely,that in the nights the moon as a celestial messenger,to call the echo,with tears of angel,like a wolf,lost love,as a bride,in a perfect world,no lights,no hope,no relief?Is continually cry,fallen is hope,in a perfect world,what will secretly wear on bare shoulders.Words fell like tears crypt mourning words,which never reach angels will not clean.70 times by 7,fallen on the graves,the mysterious power,when in a perfect world,hope died.Is veil fell upon wonders,fell like a tear that will not delete,because man,that angel,never will be.

TAINA PIETRELOR-MYSTERY STONES

• Sufletul mi s-a ascuns in inima,ca intr-o gradina fermecata,in care s-au refugiat gandurile,ca niste nestemate pietrificate,cazute din Cer,ca lacrimi.Pornesc in sus,spre Munte,purtand in palme,ca un semn,prima piatra intalnita pe poteca.Simt caldura pietrei,ca o boare racoritoare in zorii diminetii,cand curcubeul imbratiseaza Pamantul,ca o panglica colorata,de sentimente ascunse in lumina.Primeste-o si in palmele tale,incatusata de pulsul cadentat al Timpului,adaugand,peste praful de stele,un tainic mister,al Cuvintelor.In inima mea,caldura pietrei,se transforma,printr-o usoara strangere,intr-o alta materie,a nisipului matasos din adancul oceanelor,realitati cutremuratoare atat de criptate,incat dorul dupa Ingeri,ar putea aduce,inapoi,pe Pamant,puterea Iubirii.
• My soul was hidden in my heart,as in a magic garden,where they took refuge thoughts,like petrified diamonds,fallen from heaven,like tears.Start up the mountain,carrying in palms,as a sign,the first stone found on the path.I feel warm stone,like a soft breeze in the early morning,when the bow,hug the earth as a  colored ribbon,of feelings hidden in the light.Get it in your palms,bound to the rhytmic pulse of the Times,adding,over the dust of stars,a mysterious mystery of the Words-are Beautiful.In my heart,warm stone becomes,by slightly raising,in another matter,the soft sand of the deep oceans,the trembling realities as encrypted,that longing after Angels could bring back the power of Love.

OGLINDA DIN SICRIU-COFFIN MIRROR

• Oglinda este Cerul,sicriul e Pamantul,o parte dintr-un Intreg,rotita,invechita si atat de necesara oamenilor,ca Apa.Alerg spre Locul in care heruvimii Intunericului,pastreaza apa de izvor si busuiocul pentru rugaciune,ca un semn al vesniciei.Mi-am aplecat fruntea inauntrul unui sicriu,ca sa-mi gasesc imaginea stravezie din oglinda,inima,ochii,palmele si Cuvintele-Ielele frumoasele,odihnindu-se ca intr-o scoica in care pulseaza Viata.Infiorata,am acoperit cu trupul meu oglinda,in semnul crucificarii,pentru un alt Timp,un alt Loc,o alta Iubire,dorita inca din copilarie,cand Jocul de-a Samariteanul era singura tasta apasata pe calculator.
• The mirror is Heaven,Earth's coffin,one part of a whole,rotated,outdated and much-needed people like water.I run to the place where cherubims of Darkness keeps spring water and basil for prayer,as a sign of eternity.I bent forehead inside a coffin to find my transparent picture in the mirror,the heart,the eyes,the palms and Words-Beautiful Elves,resting like in a shell in which pulsating life.Tingly,I covered the mirror with my body,in the sign crucifixion,for another time,another place,another love,wanted since childhood,when the game Samaritan was the only key pressed on the computer.

NE REFUGIEM-WE TAKE REFUGE

• Ma refugiez printre cuvinte,ca sa ascult fiorul ascuns al Universului.Cu fata intoarsa spre Lumina,astept ca Ielele frumoasele sa revina din calatoria lor prin Cercul de Foc al Pamantului,locul tainic,ca o clepsidra,in care statornicesc toate dorintele nespuse ale Pamantenilor.Doar Izvorul le trdeaza prezenta,prin strafulgerari catifelate de lumina,ascunzandu-se in joaca printre undele din apa si din aer.Intind palmele spre acest minunat taram,ca sa-i simt prezenta,deschizand cu grija o poarta spre mijlocul cuvintelor.Astfel,printre Anotimpuri,Pamantul este binecuvantat cu soaptele sfintilor.Ingenunchez in rugaciune,cu o lacrima in coltul ochilor.Cu fruntea aplecata spre Pamant,ca frunzele desprinse de pe ramura copacilor,ma rog Cerului,sa mai stea cu mine inca o Eternitate,aici,pe Pamant,langa jertfa lasata in urma cuvintelor.Atunci,acoperi-ma-vor undele de ape,iar colturi minunate de stanci,se vor oglindi,alunecand ca un luceafar,peste ochii mei,dar cuvintele mele,Ielele frumoasele se vor odihni in trupul meu,risipit in praful de stele,primind ,in timp,jertfa inimii,rastignita inca din copilarie,ca un copil parasit.
• I seek refuge among the words,to listen hidden thrill of the Universe.Facing the light,wait for the Beautiful Elves to return from their journey throught the Circle of Fire the Earth,the secret place,like an hourglass in which establiched the unspoken desires of all peoples.Only Spring reveals it this by soft flashes of light,hiding in play among the waves of water and air.Extend palms to this great land,I feel to this,opening with care a gateway to the middle of words.So,among Seasons,Earth is blessed with saints whispers.Kneeling in prayer with a tear in the corner of the eyes.With forehead bowed down to earth,like loose leaves from the tree branch,bring a prayer of Heaven,to stand with me,still an eternity,here on Earth,near sacrifice,lagging behind the words.Then,waves of water will cover me,and beautiful corners of rock will mirror,slipping,like a star upon over my eyes,but the words,my Beautiful Elves,will rest in my body,dispersed in the dust of stars and received,in time,sacrifice heart,crucified,since childhood,as an abandoned child.

DIN SOAPTELE SFINTILOR-FROM SAINTS WHISPERS

• Duc in palma mea atata suferinta,cata poate duce fruntea lipita de pamant,si soaptele desculte ale sfintilor.Cu umerii intorsi spre curcubeu,urc poteca serpuitoare din Munte,strabatuta in zori de pasii pelerinilor.Umbre tacute,purtandu-si umilinta ca o flacara vie,s-au ascuns langa umbra frunzelor,ca sa adune piucaturi de roua,in care sa strecoare rugaciunile,ca niste firimituri de paine,ca sa-si masoare urcusul.Incepand de la poalele Muntelui isi apleaca fruntile fierbinti pe Stanca,ca sa-si scuture lanturile,sa le auda ecoul,ca o eliberare din Legea Firii,ca o jertfa a cuvintelor,daruita Cerului.Atingand usor undele Izvorului,cu aripile-i albe,un porumbel a trecut ca un gand zburdalnic,pe langa tamplele mele reci.Adun nisipul din albia raului,ca frunzele,ca sa ascult trecerea clipelor,cuvinte cu aripa cazuta,bobite de pamant peste care trecura apele,cu unduirea Timpului.Aluneca-vor ca valurile, soaptele sfintilor,atingand cu fruntea Cerul,desavarsite,inlacrimate,cucernice,risipite ca petale pe creasta stancilor,un fir de izvor care curge in sus,ca frunzele, care primesc raze de lumina in coroana copacilor.S-au agatat de Cer,ca o panza de paianjen translucida,prin care putem numara bobite de roua cucernice,ca rugaciuni,o poarta deschisa spre frumusete.Mi-am lipit fruntea de aceasta panza,si parca lacrimile mi s-au refugiat aici,ca niste rugaciuni pentru care nu se pot rosti cuvinte.Ridicand voalul ceturilor dese,lasate in urma de Strajerii Noptii si murmurand usor,Ielele frumoasele mi-au prins palmele,ca sa intru in dansul lor,si parca simt pe frunte stropi de roua,cazuti in zori,pe firele de iarba,ca o binecuvantare.
• Lead in palm of my hand so much suffering,how much can lead forehead stuck to the ground,and bare whispers of saints.With shoulders returned to the rainbow,climb the winding path of Mountain,crossed at dawn,the steps of pilgrims.Silent shadows,wearing humility as a living flame,hid near the shadow leaves to collect dew drops,in which to pour prayers,like bread crumbs,to measure the climb.Starting at the foot,leaning their fevered brow on the Rock,to shake the chains,to hear the echo,as a release from the law of nature,as a sacrifice of words,given to Heaven.Brushing the waves Spring,by her white wings,a bird passed,as a sprightly thought over my cold temples.Collect sand from the riverbed,the leaves,to listen passing moments,words with the wing fallen,berries of land over which waters passed with waving Time.Whispers saints will slide like waves,reching by forehead heaven,perfect,watery,pious,scattered like petals on ridge of rocks,a wire spring that flows up,like leaves that get rays of light in the trees crown.Were clung to Heaven as a cobweb translucent,which can we count devout dew berries,like prayers,an open door to beauty.I stuck my forehead the canvas and seem my tears found refuge here,like prayers,for which no words can say.Lifting the veil of thick mists,left by Night watchmens and murmuring slightly,Beautiful Elves caught my palms to go into their dance,and feel like on the forehead,dew drops who fell at dawn on the blades of grass,as a blessing.

O SOAPTA IN ABIS-WHISPER QUIET INTO THE ABYSS

• Un indemn din copilarie,al Izvorului,care curge cu fruntea indreptata spre Cer,o soapta in amurg,cazuta ca un licurici,in jocul soptit al frunzelor,care si-au legat inima de Cer,ca palma unui orb,care cauta orbecaind ,lumina,asezata pe picaturile de roua ale diminetii.Cu flori de iasomie in plete,Ielele frumoasele s-au asezat murmurand,in poienita,ca sa incercuiasca,din nou,mijlocul Pamantului.Curcubeul s-a asezat pe Pamant,atat e de alba lumina,aplecat cu unduirea vantului,salcamul inflorit isi scutura picaturile de apa de pe frunze,ca un semn.Trecand grabiti, ca niste ganduri razlete ramase la urma,ciorchini de nori calatoresc cu apusul soarelui,desenand umbre la marginea Padurii,peste care Soarele va rasari,a doua zi.Petrecute sunt zilele,in taina fi-vor daruite noptilor,in locul acesta,al Izvorului,care s-a asezat in inima mea.Turna-vor in zori din pocalul florilor,aroma parfumului strans de pe petale,ca o bucata de pasca,dulce,stropita cu lacrimi cazute din geana Cerului.Sub frunzele aplecate ale salcamului,un stol de vrabiute,sagetand poteca,ridica stropi colorati de ploaie,un fascicul luminos,din curcubeu,inveselind inima mea.
• A childhood urge,the fountain,flowing with the forehead pointing to the sky,a whisper in the Twilight,fallen like a firefly in the whispered game of leaves,which has bound the heart of heaven,as the palm a blind man who search grope,the light,sitting on drops of morning dew.The jasmine flowers in hair,Beautiful Elves settled murmuring in glade,to surround again,the earth.Rainbow was placed on Earth,so is white,the light,bending with the wind waving,acacia blossom,which he shakes water droplets on the leaves,as a sign.Moving fast,like stray thoughts left after,clusters of clouds,traveling with the sunset,drawing on the forest shadows over the sun will rise at dawn.Past are the days,in secret will be given to nights,in this place of Spring,that was placed in my heart.Dawn will pour out of the cup flowers,fragrance perfume,picking the petals,like a piece of bread,sweet,sprinkled with tears,fallen from heaven eyelash.Under folded leaves of acacia,a flock of sparrows,shoot the path,pick up colorful splash of rain,a light,the rainbow,cheering my heart.

BRAUL PAMANTULUI-EARTH BELT

• Vino sa colindam prin Curcubeu.Este ora cand roua de pe frunze,inmiresmata cu cel mai puternic parfum al genunilor,e pregatita sa imbratiseze urma pasilor tai.Numai acum,cand tainele Universului sunt in asteptare,lumina zorilor va avea putere sa-si dezvaluie misterul.Asa,voi avea curajul sa te prind de mana,sa te privesc in ochi,sa-ti zambesc,sa-ti dezvalui emotii,adunate in inima mea,ca Mataniile.Eram copil cand alergam cu ochi stralucitori pe strazile Singuratatii,cu inima pusa in piept de un Inger.Uite,se asterne roua sub urma pasilor tai,Pamantul a insetat si s-a racit.A venit timpul sa-i punem pe mijloc Braul acesta,tesut din fire argintii de praf de stele.Haideti,Ielelor frumoaselor,mai este timp pentru inca o Lacrima de Roua pana la ivirea zorilor.Acoperiti,acoperiti cu Praf de Stele,Cercul Pamantului,pentru ca trezirea diminetii sa fie de folos oamenilor.
• Come to wander the Rainbow.The time when dew on leaves,fragrant with the strongest scent of abyss,is ready to embrace traces of your steps.Only now,when the mysteries of the universe are waiting,dawn will have power to reveal the mystery.So,I will have the courage to grasp your hand,to look in your eyes,to smile you,to reveal emotions,gattered in my heart,like beads.I was a child when running with bright eyes,on streets of solitude,the heart put in the chest by an angel.Look,dew settles follow your steps-in,and Earth has thirsty and cold.It is time to put them in the middle Belt-it,weaving of silver wire of star dust.Come on Beautiful Elves,there is still time for another tear Dew until dawn.Covered,covered with star dust circle Earth,for waking up the morning to be useful to people.