Serban Raducu Bogdan (7 march 1988)

The world fell on her white shoulders
and the stars all, that shone above,
along with the moon and sun,
to make it a bit harder, for her,
to budge,
Oh, and they were so sacred of her!
And I was too.

They deemed her guilty, of poverty
of not having enough dreams on her plate, a gold one,
and chained mountains at her ankles,
and put oceans in her palms,
since to hold the sky, was not much of a challenge, they thought.
Oh, and they were so in love with her!
And I was too.

And I will smile towards her frown,
denude my shoulders, and to her say:
'My love, just stay,
brake my shoulders with your pain
and I shall love you even more.'