Asculta, iti citesc

si degetele se incurca in parul tau, si ochii se scalda-n lumina ochilor tai

Your eyes

how sweet the solar second is

filling my love with your sparkling wonders;

female butterfly flapping its wings

beneath the male butterfly, who raises drunkly to the sun.

~~

you approach me as tender and undulating as the grass

barely touching the one asleep

your hands’ slow dance upon my back,

your lips say ‘maybe’, neverending whispers.

~~

so tender i sense you, suddenly dizzy

when you shall offer your pure nakedness

my lips will burn with a rough flame

your closed eyelids – i’ll hear your quiet sighs.

~Thorkild Bjornvig~

~translated by me~

~~~

Moon and Me

look at me, night’s lamp,

i’m again on the road,

an old vagabond is

asking for a sign of your friendship.

~

are we, all, so old?

i know, magic moon:

only those who becoming younger

want to remain forever young,

~

only those who giving their souls to the bottom

are filled again like the rich sea,

bursting bucket, you see

how nicely the splendor pours over

~

above the flock of clouds,

and upon the waters that gather,

when a poor vagabond

calls for his brother in the moon.

~Aarow Hellaakoski~

~translated by me~

~ de Diana pe noiembrie 12, 2007.