Poemas (0.021s) Poesía, prosa, comentarios, críticas - Literatura y Cultura Espanola
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agonia.net 
· Carta urgente de solidaridad para un poeta aprisionado
Artículo 
Despre Boierism: manifest si razie
Mesa redonda
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-12-30 | [Este texto, tienes que leerlo en romana] | Inscrito en la biblioteca por Ionescu Bogdan Methought I saw him but I knew him not; He was so changed from what he used to be, There was no redness on his woe-worn cheek, No sunny smile upon his ashy lips, His hollow wandering eyes looked wild and fierce, And grief was printed on his marble brow, And O I thought he clasped his wasted hands, And raised his haggard eyes to Heaven, and prayed That he might die -- I had no power to speak, I thought I was allowed to see him thus; And yet I might not speak one single word; I might not even tell him that I lived And that it might be possible if search were made, To find out where I was and set me free, O how I longed to clasp him to my heart, Or but to hold his trembling hand in mine, And speak one word of comfort to his mind, I struggled wildly but it was in vain, I could not rise from my dark dungeon floor, And the dear name I vainly strove to speak, Died in a voiceless whisper on my tongue, Then I awoke, and lo it was a dream! A dream? Alas it was reality! For well I know wherever he may be He mourns me thus -- O heaven I could bear My deadly fate with calmness if there were No kindred hearts to bleed and break for me!
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