Music. Like good wine.
De atunci, gheorghe apetroae sibiuEfebul, mai mult in transa, in pauzele alburneascultam cum susura arhetipal izvoarele anotimpurilor-de povarnisul cautarilor rastignite, sangerandprin fiecare raza - cantecele astrilor,mai intaiin zambile, crini si trandafiri...~~~De atunci tot cobor pe lunci stelesi le pastoresc in portocaliul de sanziene,cochetand cu certaretul Eol...~~~De atunci batjocoresc cugetul adanc al stancilorprabusite-n paraul pe care l-am coborat deseoriin stihuri, cu ritmuri din ele cioplite,si le stropesc cu amintirile ploilor de aprilie...~~~De atunci ascult simfoniile albe ale zefiruluicu melodica uverturii de ne-nceputin bemolii gravi ai cerului, pe care i-am ingropatalturi de trilurile ciocarliei, impreuna cu primaverile,de grindina verii i-am dezgropatde sub albastrii trandafiri ramasi infloritiin copilaria simbolurilor, asteptarile celor adormiti...~~~De atunci ma iubesc cu obiceiurile si aberatiile;ma bucur de timpul cel beat, de mine, fara habar...~~~~~~Ever sinceThe ephebe, who's rather mesmerized, while the sapwood'break...I amlistening to the streams of the seasons purling archetypely -because of the steep of crucified quests, bleedingthrough every beam - to the songs of the stars,then in magnolias, lilies and roses...~~~Ever since, the stars have kept falling down in the holmsand I've been growing them in the Midsummer sunset,flirting with the quarrelsome Eol...~~~Ever since I have been to the deep meditation of the rocks,that had fallen down in the rivulet I had often come down toin the verses, with rhythms carved from themselves,and I asperse them with the memories of the April rains...~~~Ever since, I have been listening to the white symphonies of the zephyrruswith the melodies of the non-beginning overturein the sky's solemn flats, which I had buriedtogether with the trills of the lark, together with the springs,but the white, black, green and red butterflies, billed bythe hail in summer, I had exhumedfrom under the blue roses that are still in blossomin the childhood of the symbol, the expectationsof those who had gone before us...~~~Ever since, I have been loving myself with my habits, with my aberrationsand I enjoy the frenzied time, myself, without a clue...cu stimă
De atunci, gheorghe apetroae sibiu
RăspundețiȘtergereEfebul, mai mult in transa, in pauzele alburne
ascultam cum susura arhetipal izvoarele anotimpurilor-
de povarnisul cautarilor rastignite, sangerand
prin fiecare raza - cantecele astrilor,
mai intaiin zambile, crini si trandafiri...
~~~
De atunci tot cobor pe lunci stele
si le pastoresc in portocaliul de sanziene,
cochetand cu certaretul Eol...
~~~
De atunci batjocoresc cugetul adanc al stancilor
prabusite-n paraul pe care l-am coborat deseori
in stihuri, cu ritmuri din ele cioplite,
si le stropesc cu amintirile ploilor de aprilie...
~~~
De atunci ascult simfoniile albe ale zefirului
cu melodica uverturii de ne-nceput
in bemolii gravi ai cerului, pe care i-am ingropat
alturi de trilurile ciocarliei, impreuna cu primaverile,
de grindina verii i-am dezgropat
de sub albastrii trandafiri ramasi infloriti
in copilaria simbolurilor, asteptarile celor adormiti...
~~~
De atunci ma iubesc cu obiceiurile si aberatiile;
ma bucur de timpul cel beat, de mine, fara habar...
~~~
~~~
Ever since
The ephebe, who's rather mesmerized, while the sapwood'break...
I amlistening to the streams of the seasons purling archetypely -
because of the steep of crucified quests, bleeding
through every beam - to the songs of the stars,
then in magnolias, lilies and roses...
~~~
Ever since, the stars have kept falling down in the holms
and I've been growing them in the Midsummer sunset,
flirting with the quarrelsome Eol...
~~~
Ever since I have been to the deep meditation of the rocks,
that had fallen down in the rivulet I had often come down to
in the verses, with rhythms carved from themselves,
and I asperse them with the memories of the April rains...
~~~
Ever since, I have been listening to the white symphonies of the zephyrrus
with the melodies of the non-beginning overture
in the sky's solemn flats, which I had buried
together with the trills of the lark, together with the springs,
but the white, black, green and red butterflies, billed by
the hail in summer, I had exhumed
from under the blue roses that are still in blossom
in the childhood of the symbol, the expectations
of those who had gone before us...
~~~
Ever since, I have been loving myself with my habits, with my aberrations
and I enjoy the frenzied time, myself, without a clue...
cu stimă