alive through memories
my roots stretch within the trinity of rivers
Târnava Mureş Olt
from where my ancestors scattered towards the future
their oak and beech tree ashes
because I loved too much all beings on this land
I stood stuck to the ground
I stayed home like a swallow nest blown over by the North wind
with my arms tattooed by the stripes sewn on peasant shirts
carrying the sweat of summer workers from the fields
wrapped in the white sacred towel
kept in the old chest painted with flowers
I raised the past towards the sky as if it were my baby
the sun screamed the moon whined the stars babbled in awe
I payed tribute an ounce of oblivion an ounce of sleep
an ounce of Hallelujah under the smoked church vaults
through centuries of gold wax flames
I and my shadow
ageless
in the country with a growing delta
facing the Black Sea
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem