Woman…Who hurt you? Many ideas rise on your regard.
Woman…Who bunted your soul? A sea of wards flooded your being.
Yes. Although you are a nymph and always triumph over people, although you are a goddess of a green-blue that fills me with a worthy moving and urges me to forsake dice, although you cure me of hugs, effervescent of rebel I wish you answer me at least to one of the caresses.
In the rain falling from your kiss I discover ancestral and prudent friendships. In the heart from the middle of the hands full of blood mountain, the way to you continues. And suddenly, the earth shake, and sun lightning elapsed from your words, illuminated me.
You love me, you told me and I feel it… So I’m not wondering that everywhere in the world they speak about us…
When you come back to me, to us, to the cigarette that wants you to smoke her near me, to the book wants to be read by you, to the rime, wishing to lay on your slippers, to the dog we don’t have yet, but waiting for you barking, to the heart that throb from longing to you? And woman as being, I yearn to you; I want you in my life for so long. Nymph as being, my song is back from the mascara made up eyelashes of the forest in your eyes. And you know, however the atheists try to understand, faith is not to be Upload in a power outlet. No, faith means love, means patience, loyalty and respect in the way written by HIM… And arms waiting to be snowed… by trust petals…
Femeie...
Cine te-a intrebat ce faci?
Puzderie de raspunsuri ti-au venit imediat pe buze.
Femeie...
Cine te-a ranit?
Nenumarate idei ti-au rasarit in privire.
Femeie....
Cine te-a inghiontit in suflet?
O mare de cuvinte ti-a inundat fiinta.
Da.
Desi esti nimfa si triumfi asupra oamenilor mereu, desi esti zeita a unui verde albastru ce ma umple de mutari destoinice si ma indeamna sa renunt la zaruri, desi ma lecuiesti de imbratisari pline de revolta as vrea sa imi raspunzi macar la una dintre mangaieri.
In ploaia ce cade din sarutul tau descopar ancestrale si prudente amicitii. In inima muntelui din mijlocul frazei mainile pline de sange continua drumul spre tine.
Si dintr-o data se cutremura pamantul si fulgere de soare scurs din cuvintele tale ma lumineaza. Ma iubesti, mi-ai spus si simt...
Asa ca nu ma mir ca se vorbeste peste tot in lume despre noi... Cand te intorci la mine, la noi doi, la tigara ce vrea s-o fumezi langa mine, la cartea ce se vrea citita de tine, la bruma ce vrea sa se astearna peste papucii tai de casa, la cainele pe care inca nu-l avem, dar te asteapta latrand, la inima ce tresalta de dorul tau?
Si femeie fiind, te doresc, te vreau in viata mea de atat de multa vreme...
Nimfa fiind, mi-e cantecul intors de genele rimelate ale padurii din ochii tai...
Si stii, oricat s-ar stradui ateii sa inteleaga credinta nu e ceva ce incarca la o priza, nu are incarcator...
Nu. Credinta inseamna iubire, inseamna rabdare, loialitate si respect in calea scrisa de EL...
Si brate ce asteapta sa fie ninse... de petale de incredere...
