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■ Pașadine în vers alb (73)
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2015-01-09 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] | I read properly a book on parents, That kind book in which parents talk about life To their children At a time when they are already gone From people, from words. I read, I do not get enough to see them and to touch them, These obedient angels rotating like a twirl of air around me Set the temperature of my heart, The slow road on which I have to walk every day, The bread I need, the books, worries, clouds, thoughts. I read about the miraculous way they Dedicate a life with fewer tears for me, And I worship reading their prayers Because they open for me, this way, The door to God. It's simple and good To live in your parents' prayers, It's an honest deed To look for them in chaste places.
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