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■ I know what you're thinking, father
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The Fossil Hittite
He thought in a language that was dead For three thousand years. And he wrote on waxed plates Which immediately were getting the mark of time And they were hidding themselves in buried Libraries. He adored the bronze. He didn't understand the iron And its edge didn't hurt him. He was a fossil Hittite Lost in fold of time, He didn't know he was a Hittite, He didn't know he was a fossil. He didn't suspect he spoke a language Dead for three thousand years. But he adored the bronze, O, he adored the bronze, He vanished in the void of a bell. Hititul fosila Gandea intr-o limba moarta De trei mii de ani. Si scria pe placute cerate, Care imediat prindeau patina vremii Si se ascundeau in biblioteci Ingropate. Adora bronzul. Nu intelegea fierul Si taisul acestuia nu-l vatama. Era un hitit fosila. Ratacit intr-o cuta a timpului, Nu stia ca e hitit, Nu stia ca e fosila. Nu banuia ca vorbeste intr-o limba Moarta de trei mii de ani. Dar adora bronzul, O, adora bronzul, A disparut in golul unui clopot. Marin Sorescu--Apa vie, apa moarta Ed. Scrisul romanesc Craiova, 1987
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