Sunday, 22 April 2012

That day...




there were round words those that rolled in between us
from your side of the table towards mine
when winter was melting away

it is true, it is true, you then said,
as if truth were what we were after
we talked of setting each other free
as if freedom were what one lacked


your lips, the smell of new books, your voice
although I never asked what you most adored
that day when winter was fading away

taking another sip you already knew
missing me was not going to be easy
and then I poured you yet another cup
waiting for that winter to turn into spring


6 comments:

  1. Brilliant harmony of the image and the word! Yet, so melancholic... M.

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  2. It's next to me and I dare not tell her how beautiful she is ! Our eyes express a desire but our actions are shy ...
    We were to meet but I know you're gonna leave ...

    Your text is very beautiful, delicate, poetic, and I love this photo ...

    See u... :-)

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  3. vai,Cris,cat de doldora de sensuri este aceasta iamgine,si toata poezia,care ii spune povestea..aproape ca nu as indrazni vreodata sa ma gandesc la acte flori si lumini sunt,la cum se reflecta ele,la cate spatii,taieturi,geometrie si culoare,la cata franchete si atatea elipse in cuvinte.poate,doar,daca as avea in vedere doar senzorialul-dar nu stiu sigur nici daca atunci...
    si,atat de minunat,aroma cartilor,exista situatii atat de putine,vreau sa spun veritabile,in care sa se simta cu atata forta si puritate cartea,cartile.poate e nevoie de aerul tare al iernii...

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  4. that turquoise and that dark red, they seem to me now to be the colours of longing...

    wonderful

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  5. Merci Cristina pour votre visite sur LIB ! ;-)

    ReplyDelete
  6. Dear all,

    Thank you for visiting again.

    M., I am so happy you like it. Your visit here is a gift. Thank you!

    Jeff,
    Thank you for your words. I do hope I deserve them.

    Cerasela, atat de draga,
    cum intelegi tu totul, toata acea lume, stiu, fara sa iti spun.


    Liebe Roxana,

    the colours of longing for you, always.

    ReplyDelete

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Starea ta naturala (perfecţiunea) nu este nici entuziasmul, nici descurajarea. Starea ta naturală este liniştea. * Iubirea musei nu e pasională, e totală. Musa cunoaşte ceva asemănător adoraţiei, dar mai adânc, mai liniştit. Vă scriu din altă lume... * (Gellu Naum: Calea Şearpelui)

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