Poésie

Ingratitude

He offered me a leaf like a hand with fingers,
I offered Him a hand like a leaf with teeth.
He offered me a branch like an arm,
I offered Him my arm like a branch.
He bent His trunk towards me
Like a Shoulder,
I tipped my shoulder to Him
Like a withered trunk.
I passed through Him,
He passed through Me.
I remained a solitary tree.
He a solitary Presence.

Wasted Dreams

I brought my dreams to God
Because He is my Friend.
I hung to Him and wanted help
In ways that were my Own.
Instead of leaving Him
In peace to work alone,
I turned to Him and cried:
Where are my wasted
Dreams?"
He said in vain:
What could I do?
ou never let them go."

Wouldn't Be A Shame?

Wouldn't be a shame
If love dies?
If all that survive is Hate?
If we cannot revive the Past?

Wouldn't be a shame
If the only thing left
Is our egotistic Self?
If Respect turns away
Shouting and screaming?

Wouldn't be a shame
If love is forgotten?
If only alienation
Survives?

Adriana Iosub Caras

Retour au sommaire