Colivia – Cage

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Closca cu puii



Praful de piatră şi pulberea adâncă
lăsate-au fost acolo-n stâncă,
ca somnul visului păzit să fie
de umbra păsării din colivie.

Uşa-i deschisă şi zboară când pofteşte
şi pleacă-n vad pentru femeia-peşte,
ce-o strigă acolo-n ape, peste mal.
Atunci de face colivia deal,

s-o ţină, s-o oprească, să n-o lase
în murmura duşmancei nemiloase,
ce-o ademeneşte ca pe-un musafir
şi-apoi rupe din ea, fulgul de fir.




Powder of stone and the dust clock,
left they are in a deep rock,
the sleep to be watched, in the dream age
by the bird’s shadow from the cage.

The door is open and she flies
to the ford, where the fish-woman cries
after her, like a water mill.
Then, the cage turns into a hill

to stop her, not to allow to fly
to the woman unmerciful and sly,
that invites her as a guest in the river bed,
to pull the flake of her life thread.


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