valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual post: English, Italian and Romanian languages

The childhood …it melted in the day when the mother is gone
away, to make me a cup of tea with stars

His youth … has been reached when the voice is an echo hostile
and my days have only
bitter afternoons, promise projection calling me go
but still I do not go; I’m confused, tangled between the hours of

The hill sends signs to the sky, the crosses, raining hot
maybe mom has spilled the kettle – his hands still trembling, poor thing…
as to me now, the childhood photos


L’infanzia …si è sciolta nel giorno in cui la madre se n’è andata
lontano, per farmi un tè di stelle

Giovinezza …si è raggiunta quando la voce è un eco ostile
con i miei giorni che hanno soltanto
pomeriggi amari, promessa proiezione chiamandomi via
ma, ancora non vado, sto confuso, aggrovigliato tra…

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