Trilingual text: English, Italian and Romanian language
Here, the snow is green, the sky is green
You might think that we look at the world through a young leaf
I would like to know in the eyes of the blade of grass how it sees our body weighed
panting so under our feet?
But, the snowflakes crashing of eyelids?
It is said in the village that the soul of firs has reached up there and complained
The light is deepened in itself and is silent, the children are asleep, from the their dreams
descends down the green vivid
It is said in the village, recently, that is no more loneliness, it’s just an illusion,
it is a whole that pulsates, but that’s another story…
into economy of the sky we are here just desires and tears
the green creates certain confusion between them – ironically, the grass…
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