And it is raining, in a dizzying roar,
With untold events, with tears of longing,
And it rains, it rains infernally in the spell of the night,
How much it can rain, as much as the hell of life wants.
And it rains, it rains with a deep right of life,
Unknown drop, as a tenderness on the face,
And it rains with a reserved smile in the warm head of the horizon,
Only the moon cries, cries like crazy in the lapel of hatred.
Love has made its way on the heavenly and gentle face,
In the dark night sitting ignored,
The mouthy thought has forms, it has voice, but also an reverse,
He sings "humanity with its brass hands" in reverse
The air got drunk with roses, love with a thousand whispers,
Of me and the "wind of the kissed evening",
He often calls you among the beautiful angels,
You are thirsty for love ... I hear slowly, you have become too thirsty!
And it is raining, and the valleys of love rose up,
To heaven on the most well done ladder,
And sings, sings the love on round bellies,
The whole convoy of thrills, "parade and honor" hides.
Leaving aside the pretext of overflowing hatred,
Love even includes acclaimed pleasures and pleasures,
When her daring faith cries out in anger,
Let's love each other ,through all this angry rain!
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Mirela Necula
Poet
Romania
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Voice Literary Blog
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Sub-Editor - Monowar Hossain
..... Chief Organizer.....
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Voice Literary-Cultural Organization
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