Poezii

Nicolae Sirius Under empty eyelids The poem I am here writing Is stronger than a mountain in the night Appearing in a bull's corrida: have No fear. Garb its mane Ride and tear it asunder, then eat of it: it is yours. It begins like a fable. Don't laugh: It leads off With the first letters you study. Once upon a time there was an old pundit. The man disappeared; Some say he had been crucified. Not understanding Noah He had lost his resolve and his way. I always see him at dusk in the window In yours or in mine, at everyone's dusk He appears, sometimes happy sometimes wretched. He does not speak of the secret Of death; of his son murdering him Or why he was burnt at the stake. No, it is something deeper. I have spied his face on the panels of caves In the first light of morning And in the darkness of evening again: Shaped like a spiral, the bell broken Under vacuous eyelids. His time was spent, he hated himself. Enamoured of wine When I saw him again He was always somebody else. At dusk I hear him at the window Saying words steeped in truth. Poetry page