Third Degree Quiet Poem by ion untaru

Every day at the same time
thrown by street formicary
right in front of dwelling
like does rolling band with an useless piece

Two, three closed doors behind me
looking for un elusory refuge:
first degree quiet!

My wife's chattering,
little things of my everyday drama,
waiting for internal geyser
and quiet atmosphere spread by it:
second degree quiet

Drawn flowers on some sheets of papers,
on paper napkins,
in air, in palm,
in mirror, in mind,
until one of them
only one,
comes to life,
approaching my ear

Attention please, sirs:
do me this favor:
that is is the flower that whisper me
all poems in a perfect:
third degree quiet!

(translated from romanian)