Silence of niches is fallen
Snow blue, waves over grove
Foxes away from stove
A guilty afternoon is stolen
Foreign thoughts as lobby terms
Over which you can not pass
From Aztec ciphered in glace
Messages, immune to germs
Stallions of youth in gallop
Clear pasture, typhoon
Tingly rays of moon
Closed in every drop
Nights comming from abroad
Wild beings always dare
Where our money bags are,
Horses and carriages of the road?
(translated from romanian)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem