Then we met more often.
I stood at one side of the hour,
you at the other,
like two handles of an amphora.
Only the words flew between us,
back and forth.
You could almost see their swirling,
and suddenly,
I would lower a knee,...
Poems by Nichita Stănescu about wordThus, like the skin
of a shorn ewe, the day rises.
It is difficult to skin the self from a stone.
It is difficult to skin memory from a Greek.
But why should we talk about these!
After all,
light too has a skin,
light too can be...
Poems by Nichita Stănescu about wordLittle by little she became a word,
bundles of soul on the wind,
a dolphin in the clutches of my eyebrows,
a stone provoking rings in water,
a star inside my knww,
a sky inside my shoulder,
and I inside I.
Poems by Nichita Stănescu about word
