I ask one of them
Tell me for God’s sake
Is George the Wolf still living
That’s me he answers
With a voice from the next world
I touch his cheek with my hand
And beg him with my eyes
To tell me if I’m living too
Two blighted legs
Holding a blind Sun.
The morning rays – gone to work
On the other side of the sky,
Rather than its threshold.
The Noon is beyond the Pale.
Cavorting with thunders,
She’s never at home.
The evening takes to the road,
The bedstead on her back,
She’s begging on some constellation.
Only the Night appears,
With outstretched arms,
To welcome a blind Sun.
Tags:"Blind Sun"·"Centre for Romanian Studies - London"·"Constantin Roman"·"Poetry in Translation"·"Serbian Vlach"·"Serbo-Croatian"·"Soare Orb"·"Vasko POPA"·engleza·poet·poetry·romana·traducere·translation·Vlach·Voyvodina