Old Bootblack Poem by ion untaru

Old Bootblack



old bootblack recognized
without raising his eyes
nature of its customers,
only after their shoes

evenings when return burdened
thoughts reach before
welcoming me on threshold

and nights in which asleep sad
I have part of the most beautiful dreams

(translated from romanian)

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ion untaru

ion untaru

Village Finta, Dambovitza
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