Anisoara Iordache

Vă rog, vreau mere!/2021-10-13 - kaum sind die Apfelbäume erblüht, sagt der schöne Frühling, und die Bienchen kehren zurück zum Bienenstock mit Pollen gefüllten Körbchen. verwöhnt von den

dedicație/2006-10-08 ich werde dir schreiben, mein kleines Glöckchen, ein geräuschvolles Gedicht wie ein Bienenschwarm, der in der Früh an der Nase summt, dich aufweckt und

Der Mond, die Kaisertochter aus dem Zimmerchen schlich durch die Sternenwälder, zwischen Zweigen und Tälern, und sprang vom Fenster wie ein Reh ins

Ich werde auf diese Kaffeekanne ein freundliches Nilpferd zeichnen. Jeden Morgen sollte Mutter ihm das Gesicht

sfârșit de vară / 2019-08-19 die azurblaue Puppe der Sonne brach auf die lustigen Schmetterlinge nahmen die Wolkenkappe vom Kopf der Sonne und warfen sie zwischen die Tuberosen. die

frantic talent among willow shadows capsized boats in trawls meshes the spiders spinning brocades lights at the window someone waiting for us an ardent desire floating in the air set

harsh wind shook the chestnut trees - suddenly someone at the gate with chrysanthemums rainy evening of November- warm dinner à la chandelle blushed we watch the game of

visions' prey- the moon in the mirror. wearing breakups of clouds... the moon through reed. hidden pirogue - in the port with stars the moon. wolves' feast- the moon can

futtering of wings, carving in water- falling is born the flight. rose opening up carving in water- at the window, three peaks of mountains. burning pain, carving in water-

In the autumn market Impetuous Smoked meat smell... Must moustaches And bees buzzing- How good is it to be caressed! Eating melons On the road line No matter who passes by... The

sonata for the flute and piano adding some slices of a sunrise tasted with the friends and a calm sleep on the sand for the brioche with bilberries I cut the almonds I break the nuts in

Round the coffee steam...- pleasant conversations on the background, a flute sound. The darkness rising towards untravelled paths...- near the sky, a desire. On the

sonata for the oboe and piano like a bird do I pass through life’s circle someone- a remorse, maybe running after my shadow- a hungry clucking hen picking the minutes from the dial quicklier,

Jazz molecules Flowing freely through the veins Of my hands. Improvising The allegro moderato refrain Of the spring. From behind To the fa key Your fingers coming. In the night

Wasting time at the window The movements Rolling on a piano keys It is raining Butterfly wings moving the sight into stars depth Over the waters The darkness is gathering the clothes stained

an open window and a shout of girls with blossom sweet basil in the hair over the salmonoids rummage the depth of the rivers the springs want to find to lay the spawn in the darkness of

I will play at the mandolin a serenade ... gently to sleep. I will caress and fondle her every day. With the dolls in my house, she will live. At the neck, she will wear a big red silk

I will draw on this cup of coffee a gentle hippo. In every morning, mother will have to comfort him on the face, ask him if he's hungry or if she wants to take him for a walk. That being