Jerome by Anastasia Forfotă - HTML preview

Perhaps I come as well

to see your salted drop on face,

weak nature of lost men.

Perhaps I come to throw myself

after the serpent round your neck,

sweet choke o' freedom

of hollow death, lacking taste.

Why come? To stay

aside, powerless, to run,

to flee a constancy from you, to drink

lies of an expensive life,

to sit on groots, to play them.

Crack the wood, splinter of an elbow,

dagger of a naked moon,

white light you inspire from me, and I

your soul expire.

Perhaps I come as well

to join you.

Poate vin si eu

sa-ti vad un strop sarat pe fata,

slaba fire de om dus.

Poate vin sa ma arunc

dupa sarpele ce-l porti la gât, 

sugrum dulce-al libertatii

de moarte seaca, fara gust.

De ce sa vii? Sa stai

deoparte, neputincios, sa fugi,

constant s-alergi în urma ta, sa bei

minciuni de viata scumpa,

sa te-asezi pe-un ciot, sa-l cânti.

Sparge lemnul, aschie de-un cot,

pumnal de luna goala,

lumina alba mi-o inspiri, iar eu

expir sufletul tau.

Poate vin si eu

sa ti m-alatur.