Forest Of Birch Trees Poem by Valentin Gabriel Cristea

On the region, in front of me, I am shown
the white forest of birch trees,
I was looking at it in dream,
I was finding it proudly
when I climbed in balch trees
and I thought that I could
fly to the sky.
When I was child,
I was creating great dreams.
Now, being mature,
I see the forest of birch trees
as white and beautiful as some years ago
and two twigs without the enamel from branches
smile me sadly,
this is the place where I was often tarring
and I was building
cradle of crystal.
The wind of evening breezes gently
twilight is reflected from the leafs,
postherds of stars are going to fall
over the white balch trees bent by cares.