Un peste galbior (gand poetic de George-B)
Pe vederea-ngalbenita
Viata scursa pic cu pic
formeaz-o balta…
Un pestisor galbior, vorbeste nimic,
visand la cele zece noua opt sapte sase cinci patru trei doi unu ….
nimic, si dela capat…
nu-i loc de amintiri in peste, nu-i loc de fantezie,
acum un an era zece noua opt sapte sase cinci patru trei doi unu una nimic,
si-apoi nimic din nou in zece, noua….
a golden fish (poetic thought by George-B)
On the yellowed postcard,
Life oozed drop by drop
collecting into a pond…
A golden fish, said nothing,
Dreaming of the last ten, nine eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one…
Nothing, and from the beginning…
There is no place for memories in a fish, no place for fantasy,
A year passed was ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one masculine, one feminine,
Then nothing and again ten, nine…