Serban Raducu Bogdan (7 march 1988)

They're bending mountains over you, with the elegance of god
trying to impress the nesting soul in you.
Decapitating suns, to give you their crown,
they ruin worlds, in search for a ring, a ring they put in your hand, to have you naked, in their lies,
and I suffer, because I don't have anything else to give you, than I already gave.
I don't have gold, diamonds or silver. I don't have a castle of my own. I don't have a crown.
words are cheap, and I can only offer you this,
but know that they are my most precious thing.
And maybe Desnos and others, said it better,
but I don't want to send you their poems,
I want to send my own words to you, because they have you in their minds,
and not the one Desnos was thinking about.
My words are my thoughts, and they wouldn't have existed without you,
my one.
At the end of it,
it's the moment to say what I neglected:
I love you..