Radiogramme Poem by Lucia Stefanovici
Radiogramme
Bent children,
a bit of eyelace kept,
driedly cried tear,
blindly searched hand,
burnt land,
cut sheep,
cut meat,
cut phone,
cut electricity,
kept light.
There is the mute movie of my country.
The Sun cried in a mulberry-tree
in embers of stone.
Wednesday, December 6, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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4/23/2024 7:15:14 PM # 1.0.0.1119
