Worn off by time bobbins start playing
Around the original model sewn into skin
People turn around with noise
Out of the silence they leaned on
Then bobbins restored, for so long
The time had slept over their court
A tablecloth over the crowd of people
Hands move rapidly, souls get a pattern
People errand as hankerchiefs, baptism robes,
Umbrellas, embroideries, lace bearers
Besieged by bobbins
Mi fa viaggiare dappertutto finché c’è una stazione ferroviaria Per collegarmi a tutti i luoghi amati dai miei cari La mia vita è il movimento…
People have always migrated. “There is nothing new under the sun”, proclaims the Bible (Ecclesiastes 1:9). Some people become refugees, turning their circumstances from the…
Deep into the forest of our thoughts Colors have made it through the day From the night of our eternal breathing Embraced under the star…
My son has amber fingers. They mould my heart with gentleness. He places round my neck pearls of love embraced. The morning sun baths the…
From the brocade of bygone times we weave tales on the summer canvas As if time is a great stream from which, day after day,…
Revista TIMPUL – Portal de cultură
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