Marieta Maglas Poems

This game is the way in which slaughter becomes an end in itself.

Acta est fabula plaudite
The play has been performed; applaud!
...

I have seemingly missed your words of love,
Those words that were written in the sand
And erased by the first wave.
Do you remember, my love?
...

If we combined
The perfectly good and the perfectly evil,
We would obtain the imperfection.
If we took a piece of paradise
...

I am a victim and you know that I know this.
Je suis une victime et vous savez que je le sais.

You say that you love me,
...

If I felt that you had been here,
it was because your angel
would have touched me with his wing
like a breeze,
...

Romania is in mourning.
A princess of Romanian folk died
A few hours ago.
There will be many trees on this land
...

If that morning would be my ideal incredible readiness,
In a forgotten time of the tellurium and most desirable land,
Your certain love would come to utter my vivid happiness-
Kissing closed eyelids, caressing them with your tender hand.
...

While drawing a circle,
A ray of sun that slips on your sad face
Is not only a ray, it is the light.
Moreover, my feelings
...

I'm drawing a circle,
Which is concentrically diminishing,
With each gliding of the pencil on the paper,
Until it becomes a spiral.
...

Making a child
For giving love a dual name.

For saving its sense.
...