- 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.
