Every Thursday on our way to
school
a man with a hat showed up
and showed us his cock
Back then I didn’t know that
life
is a slow death, as if
it would caress you on the
cheek
‘til it starts to bleed
I had no idea
that love itself is a slow
death,
as if somebody would stab you
in the heart
with a rose
I couldn’t figure out why
God
sometimes acts
as if he’d descend from apes
I couldn’t understand why
there are so many people
on earth,
as if a single one
wouldn’t be enough.(Daniel-Silvian Petre, Despre lucrurile cu adevărat importante, Napalm D'or, Ed. Brumar, 2008, unlawfully translated by Lucian-A. Blaga, 2013)
