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Cheam lupii n iarn.

Se scutur ultimul pcat n cearcnul cerului de plumb teii sunt goi i dorul nu-i deajuns pentru o sear cnd se frnge un urur din departele stelelor reci n focul mpodobit cu priviri nestinse s-a rupt gheaa pe care ncepusem s construim un iglu zgomotul s-a auzit pn-n marile sudului noi plutim la Polul Nord pe dou banchize ateptnd primvara cnd se vor dezghea lacrimile ce nu le-am vrsat niciodat un lup ne va zmbi n coast norii se vor face scrum i vntul va prinde rdcini n cele patru coluri Acum e iarn dar linii de crbune trag drumul spre sud

Call the wolves in winter The last sin is shaken inside the leaden skys dark ring, the lime trees are empty and desire doesnt suffice for an evening when an icicle breaks from the far distance of the cold stars melted by the fire adorned with thirsty eyes Wed started to build an igloo but the ice under it has cracked with a noise heard as far as the Southern Seas, we drift towards the Northern Pole on top of two ice packs awaiting spring When the tears we have never wept will defrost,

a wolf will be grinning at our side the clouds will turn to ashes And the wind will get rooted In all the four corners It is winter now But coal lines draw the path to the South

Hiver dans Paris Un soare oranj, stingher, pe cerul doldora de fulgi, felinare netunse cu omt pe ochiul glbui i urmele noastre tulburnd potecile zpezilor neumblate Stelue toropite de ger cntau mut la fereastra de ghea din cartierul Latin ne plimbam fredonnd n Parisul ce pentru noi a nins prima oar aveam tiv de fulgi mprejurul genelor i umbre lungi din plopii ncovoiai de cer ne tiau calea ni se rrete pasul ateptm la rspntie cu lumina n ger ninsorile de alt dat i vism n Paris cerul nu poate ninge fr s ne fim mpreun An orange, lonely, sun in the sky with snowflakes galore, street lamps with a mop of snow hanging over the yellow eye and our traces unhinging the paths of ice not trodden.

Sleepy stars of frost singing mutedly at the icy window somewhere in the Latin District; we were walking whistling in Paris, snowing just for us for the first time we had a hem of snowflakes on the eyelashes and the long shadows of poplars bowed by the sky were crossing our way Our steps become rare were waiting at the junction with lighted frost the snows of times bygone and keep on dreaming There cannot be any snow in Paris without us being together
Fluturii se mutau pe flori chioptnd de polenul cuvintelor am inversat sezonul cireelor cu un rsrit de lumin pentru fiecare tulpin care arde mna mea se ndrgostete de cearcnul tu drept cu pumnii ncletai te srut miroase a rou i a frunze trezite sub ploi rsfoiete-m iar n puf de ppdii din cmpuri de ierburi amare mpletite-n fereastr dar nu acum, acum te simt lng mine i tac f-o mine, azi nu exist The butterflies were moving in flowers limping because of the pollen in words we have switched the season of cherries with a sunrise for each stem burning aglow

my hand falls in love with your right eyes ring with fists closed tight I kiss you, it smells of dew and of awaken leaves under rain Browse me again in the dandelions halos from the bitter grass fields woven at the window, but not now, now I sense you close to me and I say no word, do it tomorrow, today doesnt exist. .. Lumea ne-ar fi nou, ne-ar fi nor, cer i orizont, cale prin pduri de cuvinte din cele rsucite din ierburi amare s ne umplem buzunarele goale i deertul ce trecea de-a stnga privirii cnd ne deprtam din dreptul inimii Lng fereastra ce ddea spre un petec de dor pescruii rsfoiau pagini cu aripile, dou vrfuri de stnc i ddeau mna potolind o prpastie pasul ei cdea n zpad i rmnea mut Cnd se vor topi iernile vor fi mirosind ierburile amare ca sufletul ei i el va rmne tcut

The world should be ours, should be clouds, sky and horizon, path through the forests of words rolled from bitter grass; so we could fill our empty pockets and also the desert passing to the left of the eye as were going faraway from the hearts right side Close to the window looking over

to a patch of amour the seagulls were turning pages with their wings, two peaks of rock were holding hands soothing a chasm. When winters will melt the bitter grass will smell like her soul and he will remain silent. . Cu frunze ruginii toamna pea cadenat pe caldarmul rece stng, drept, stng, drept se scutura oraul sub paii cei fonitori i tremurau margini de umbrele deschise de ploi rile calde ii luau napoi un unghi de cocori noi ne luam unul dup altul i ne prindeam din urm timpul i pierdea urma mirosea a brum, a Nevermore i a nesfrit de ploi nu se mai ntorcea nimeni napoi din cea czuse vntul n gnduri cazuse un corb n melancolia de luni czuse ieri ntr-o zi de joi i era toamn Bearing rusty colored leaves autumn was marching over the cold skirting of pavement, left, right, left, right shaking the city under the rustling steps and the umbrellas edges were trembling, opened by rain The warm countries were reclaiming an angle of storks,

we were following each other and kept reaching one another, time was vanishing from sight, it smelled of frost, of Nevermore and endless rain, Nobody was coming back from the fog the wind was swept inside minds a raven slipped into a Monday melancholy and yesterday turned to be Thursday and it was autumn Se ntmpl zpada Lipseti iar timpului meu, iarna atunci cnd ninge pe streaina ochilor ce mpart cmpul n dou, abandonndu-l la marginea cerului ce se-aga plumburiu de orice fereastr goal i totui pentru tine am venit s te caut ca i atunci s nu mai vorbim linitit, printre oapte nebune i tceri, despre ultima cltorie i despre noi cei dinti Am pierdut din nou n plintate o diminea de var printre linii subiri de nori sau poate, doar am uitat-o ntre nodurile negre ale nopii ce nu mai pleca Ca de ploaie n luna iunie ne e dor n aria cireelor coapte cu pervazuri nsetate ateptnd vocea mea s plou cuvinte de-a valma peste tine cel nsetat n timp ce azi ninge, mai mult ca din ieri i se ntmpl zpada aternut s ne fie

Snow was happening My time lacks you winter when its snowing over the eyes eaves bisecting the field, forsaking it at the skys verge hanging heavy like lead onto each empty window And yet, I came to look for you like those days to forget to speak quietly amongst crazy whispers and moments of silence< about the last journey and about us at the onset We have lost again in wholesome air a summers spring between thin lines of clouds or perhaps, weve just mislaid it between the black knots of the never to go night Like rain, in the month of June we miss In the heat of the ripen cherries with thirsty sashes awaiting my voice to rain words like a torrent over you and your thirst Whilst today its snowing, heavier than yesterday and snow is happening to be our cover.