Forebodings

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual post: English, Italian and Romanian languages

The verses are the wrinkles, folds of the heart mirroring opaque white
– The mind is too carping, would not be able to make poems
Only the smile is a perfect poem
We write with fiercely thousand strings of words
squeezing the moment as if it were a handkerchief, that wiped his brow of eternity
and do not understand anything, the poetry is not a science, a industry,
but, only a gesture, which has never gone to the end, a feeling, a foreboding

Image

I versi sono delle rughe, pieghe del cuore rispecchiandosi bianco opaco
– la mente è troppo cavillosa, non sarebbe in grado di fare poesie
Soltanto il sorriso è un poema perfetto
Scriviamo fieramente mille stringhe di parole
spremendo l’attimo come fosse un fazzoletto che asciugò la fronte dell’eternità
e non comprendiamo nulla, la poesia non è una scienza, un’industria,
ma…

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