vineri, 27 martie 2015

It's weird, but I did not look at your thigh...

It's weird, but I did not look at your thigh,
but only at your eyes, your mouth and your brows,
your soft round shoulders and all the small details
known just by God or who is there up high:
The brightness shining from your sweet lips and teeth
if you simper while you eat a mandarine
and your steps so small when wearing just your skin,
these lead to the crumbling of all pillars of my faith.
Nearly collapsed over my previous idols,
with sweetness flowing in the depths of my soul,
like I never felt in my whole life before
The abundance in the inner core of fruits,
hanging there for the sole reason, it seems,
to caress my dream, as it slowly fades.

(Emil Brumaru, Ciudat, nu m-am uitat la soldul tau, Rezervatia de ingeri, 2013, unlawfully translated by Lucian-A. Blaga, 2015 - dedicated to my princess)

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