It was a trail
Rolled up as a long memory
I used to walk upon it every evening
Colors of stone
And of woods
Were drawing shadows
On the world’s face
Prisoner
In fidgety angles
Of the times
A dream locked up in
A glass shell
From far
The time bearing an unknown face
Was looking at me from a
Foreign land
Vremea cu faţ ă stră ină
Translate in English for Rosalba Valle
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