The Church over the Prut
We didn’t have a church in our village – when there gatheredheavy clouds over our home,mama made the sign of the Cross,looking with hopetoward the church in Liveni, over the…
We didn’t have a church in our village – when there gatheredheavy clouds over our home,mama made the sign of the Cross,looking with hopetoward the church in Liveni, over the…
Sometimes in my heart, someone steps foot.He steps with fervor, as if to take it.He measures it from bottom to top.I stay silent, I listen, I hold by breath:Is it…
Your face, Mama,Like a thousandWounded nightingales,Your eyesIn which has transpiredEverythingThat can possibly transpireIn this world!Your tear:A diamond that cuts in twoThe day’s mirror.Inseparable from heavenLike water is from the shore,You…