Poezii

Nicolae Sirius The Treachery of Hope One memory keeps haunting me: The day when winter died. So much white grief. Could it be other, I thought, With high snows all round? You came and stayed with me for a while. I can still feel how weary you were. We talked about the thaw of cold hours And the treachery of hope: `The meadows outside - the meadows', you said, Pointing to the mountain of snow, `The meadows of white are enchanting young Women, fast bending their steps Towards the tenements of their dreams.' But I mocked you, and how sad I made you. `Such beautiful meadows they are ...'; Again you spoke, forgetting what I had said. One of you - I don't remember who - was embroidering A tablecloth of stunning damask; We took it and laid it over the immaculate Immensity of white. Then we dined together. Poetry page