I am sick of my thoughts,
Keep them!
You don't need them either?
Hm...
Why telling me about it? !
Throw them in the street
between the husks
and coins that no one stops to pick.
With my luck,
I'll step right in them
and they'll stick to my shoe
like a chewing gum with no taste left in it.
The same way they sticked to your shoes
in your walks on the streets of my mind
upon which you spat husks
and threw unspent cigars...
Is this a street of Sibiu? If yes, no wonder, that street has a soul, I guess not many could walk in the night alone without some strange insights...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I always say that if you go on any street in any city and close your eyes and listen... you can hear the soul of that street sing :) and it sings with every footstep of bypassers, with every wing beat of birds, and cars and laughter of every child and sometimes tears :) It might be, i do not know for sure. But yes, I have walked your streets once and I still remember it with joy :)