I want, my soul, to get rid of you
and live a life like trees in valleys
with flowers instead of your thoughts,
a life without evil of good.
Far away in a mountain forest
when all the birds will have a fun’
to wake up with the sun on my face
and the sky’s tears on my cheeks
and rain’s loose hair to wash away
my dusty ancient grief,
out of which I tore my roots
and the nights to give me ster ear-rings.
The staring full moon I want to hang
upon the branch like a nest.
To fill myself of rays and vitality
for I to ever grow above the other.
Then I ‘ll make strong strings
out of my branches and I shall play
just for the joy that I exist;
and the forest will gather around me.
door the Romania poet Magda Isanos
