Primavara m-as culca pe pamant,
cand bate austrul, intaiul vant
deschizator de muguri si sfant.
Soarele mi-ar veni drept in fata,
ca un ras larg, ca un strigat de viata
strabatator prin amintiri si ceata.
Aproape tare de urechea mea,
flori mici in forma de inel si stea,
s-ar imbulzi, iar ploaia de-ar cadea,
eu m-as lasa de ierburi biruita,
de blandele brandusi acoperita -
ca o colina-abia din mari ivita.
Da. Somnul meu ar fi adanc si bun,
visul mai verde, geana-n funigei,
si n-as dori nicicand, copiii mei,
in raiul trist, cu sfintii sa m-adun.
HEAVEN
In the spring I should lie on the ground
when the austral wind is blowing, the first wind,
opener of buds and sacred.
The sun would come right in my face
like a large laughter, like a shout of life
crossing the memories and the mist.
Very close at my ear
small flowers, star and ring-shaped
would rush, and if the rain would fall,
I should let me overcome by the herbs,
by the gentle spring crocuses covered -
as a hill just emerged from the sea.
Yes. My sleep would be deep and good,
my dream more green, my eyelash in the air threads,
and never I should want, my children,
in the sad heaven, with the saints to gather.
HEAVEN
In the spring I should lie on the ground
when the austral wind is blowing, the first wind,
opener of buds and sacred.
The sun would come right in my face
like a large laughter, like a shout of life
crossing the memories and the mist.
Very close at my ear
small flowers, star and ring-shaped
would rush, and if the rain would fall,
I should let me overcome by the herbs,
by the gentle spring crocuses covered -
as a hill just emerged from the sea.
Yes. My sleep would be deep and good,
my dream more green, my eyelash in the air threads,
and never I should want, my children,
in the sad heaven, with the saints to gather.
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