Poezie
*
by Alexandru Ioan Popa
1 min lectură·
Mediu
I stretch
a lonely eye
and hold
a broken Moon,
washing
its gold afar.
Once again,
my hand
is flowing
through the sky,
whispering
long rays
on things,
on earth,
I lean my dreams
in trembled windows,
around the world,
along the night.
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