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= ***
Iulia Elize
[04.Aug.16 18:39]
Și traducerea:

*Pathetical poem

In tears is the lily-of-the-valley which is lacerated by those who are burning the mould
with a lily I have written the day, that day
the sky was such a weeper, for that reason
is a kind of war and a kind of peace with a scepter
a kind of goodness keeper that took in his bare hands a blade of a steel sword
a king is crying out up-heaven
and the sky is enfolded in mourning violet with anger at the sunset
zombies are gathering together gather the fury of the meek, gentle dragonfly that passes
where the water doesn’t flow/where is flowing no more
why is that the water doesn’t flow? didn’t flow back then? why? why you hit
the water that the water were to die with little horses who still hurt?
why did the up-above-eye has blackened with heavy fear of wounds? why? why?
why was the water to die under the crazy step?
I say only those and I die under my clear sky above
a simple flower under a hoofed heel
a flower that doesn’t know the laughter, the crying, the joy
and writes fooled by the fool with poker that wants to wipe out
the harvest and doesn’t take into any account of
the written trail of that-only who only up above walks
and walked
him
the final speaker, the first speaker of them all
to whom
a moment the fear came
that speaker who for a moment feared most
Him

(and that is why)

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= *******	Iulia Elize [04.Aug.16 18:39]
Și traducerea: *Pathetical poem In tears is the lily-of-the-valley which is lacerated by those who are burning the mould with a lily I have written the day, that day the sky was such a weeper, for that reason is a kind of war and a kind of peace with a scepter a kind of goodness keeper that took in his bare hands a blade of a steel sword a king is crying out up-heaven and the sky is enfolded in mourning violet with anger at the sunset zombies are gathering together gather the fury of the meek, gentle dragonfly that passes where the water doesn’t flow/where is flowing no more why is that the water doesn’t flow? didn’t flow back then? why? why you hit the water that the water were to die with little horses who still hurt? why did the up-above-eye has blackened with heavy fear of wounds? why? why? why was the water to die under the crazy step? I say only those and I die under my clear sky above a simple flower under a hoofed heel a flower that doesn’t know the laughter, the crying, the joy and writes fooled by the fool with poker that wants to wipe out the harvest and doesn’t take into any account of the written trail of that-only who only up above walks and walked him the final speaker, the first speaker of them all to whom a moment the fear came that speaker who for a moment feared most Him (and that is why)