Arhive etichetă | steps

Octombrie în pași…/October rays, November days


“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.
It would be terrible if we just skipped from
September to November, wouldn’t it?”
― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

să-ți coloreze pașii două aprinse gâze
de zici că primăvara ți-a vânturat prin zi
e cel mai nostim lucru, cel mai cald
atunci când toamna-nșiră pași târzii…

iar toporașul rătăcit de vreme
zâmbește albastru printre verde crud,
petale mici șoptind adânci poeme
pe care numai norii le aud

căci fiecare rază coboară pe pământ
ca pentru fire, cântec, descântec și cuvânt

(fotografii – 17 octombrie)

my steps alight when seeing two red gems
making me feel like spring has just arrived
can be the sweetest thing, the warmest sense
when autumn steps just roam in autumn parks…

and smiling so blue against the green
sweet violet has bloomed, astray in time,
small petals seem to whisper so serene
deep verse imbued in scent and deeper rhyme

for every ray descending from the shine
is for the earth a song, a spell, a chime

(photos – October 17)


“The oldest emotion in the world may be that of being moved; but to describe it – just to name it – must have been like trying to catch something invisible.”
― Nicole Krauss, The History of Love


“I wanted to describe the world, because to live in an undescribed world was too lonely.”
― Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

Iulie colorat… / July is talking in colors


“Mere color, unspoiled by meaning, and unallied with definite form,
can speak to the soul in a thousand different ways. ”
Oscar Wilde

pictând petale

și pașii mei zăbovind tiptil pe alei…


painting petals

and my steps softly tiptoeing on alleys…

raze de iulie
conversând colorat
cu steluțe pufos răsărind

coroniță de soare


rays of July
conversing colorfully
with little stars finely showing

cute sunny wreath

și ghemotoc jucăuș
sporovăind cu adierea
de mână cu zvăpăiate

sclipiri de verde zbenguindu-se viu


and friendly tuft
playfully gossiping with soft gusts of wind
rushing through frolicsome

flickers of green dancing around

cute tuft





our steps in the wild soft grass
a green necklace of strass
– as emerald velvety fern,
with lights that mildly burn

their silky footprints in the sand
a wet rusty chain of time spent
– sweet golden bowls so bright,
in foamy waters so white

her  steps on the cruel cement
a long line of maybe  and yet
– “maybe it’s working like this,
yet maybe I will go amiss?”

my dear warm steps on the ground
as beads of murmur and sound
– spread on a thread made of streams,
of life and hope, …bluish dreams