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■ The oak
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2002-06-21 | [This text should be read in romana] | Submited by Gabriel Nita
Incet, incet, tot imi veneam in fire
- Nici nu stiam ca sunt atat de vast, Capabil de atata risipire, Ca boabele de roua pur si cast - Ma asezam pe fire, ca balast. Si firea imi zicea: Mai esti, iubire? Ca de atata vreme te adast, Luasem munti si codri in primire. In jur, imprastiati erau vecinii, Care pe boabe, care pe malai, Precum o chiciura luceau pe spinii Cunoasterii de sine intru trai. Si-atunci grait-am simplu, fara gura: Sunt gata! Cautati-ma-n natura.
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