Poezie

The Romanian Woman

1 min lectură·3 noiembrie 2004

Mediu

I am a woman with quiet black eyes,

I am the one painted by Eminescu.

My palms will hold your heart...

And if you`ll let me listen

I will touch her every room

And she will breathe love more easier.

My palm will caress your face and, when

my lips will speak your name in breezes,

maybe you`ll understand that I don`t know...

I don`t know what it means to call with flash.

You`ll understand that I know and understand

only the poppies and the corn flowers that you seduce me with...

from the yellow wheat field of the Romanian village.

Sometimes I feel like a lost child from a corner to the other

On the map of your smile offered to me, sometimes...

But nestled somewhere,

in the longitude of that smile

I flow through latitude in one fairy something

and I am not a child anymore...Then,

a woman...

Then I am a Romanian woman.

Man, if you were to be mine

it would mean to breathe my naivety

with the same taste that i breathe

this feeling of home.

This woman is me.

029.359

Ioana Camelia Sîrbu. “The Romanian Woman.” Atelier, Poezie.ro, https://poezie.ro/atelier/ioana-camelia-sirbu/poezie/92791/the-romanian-woman

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