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Irina BBota Jan 27
Who in this world is the dearest without a crown,
and takes great care of us when we're ill?
Her gentle glance calms our demons down
and in tough moments encourages our will.

Who has the blond hair of late and gray autumn
to whom we owe thousands of poems of affection?
She has the bluest eyes, that never will be forgotten,
teaches us how to always win and perfection.

Who is the joy that surrounds us every time we blink?
Teaching us the love for books, country, and nation,
she tells us that the stars know everything we think,
she helps us to fulfill our dreams, without hesitation.

Who has the mouth like a rosebud in bloom?
For she was hurt so many times in her struggle,
she comforts our anger, our anxiety with her perfume,
even if her life is continuous adrenaline and trouble.

Who has the smile like after the hot summer rain,
even if this creature is wearing the eternal burden
to be the teacher of our lives, over and over again,
although she's overseas, of her love we're certain.

Who's the psychologist in our moments of dilemma?
There is no time for herself, not even for a short break,
with tears in her eyes, never complaining, she's a chimera,
she gathers all the concerns that worry her, all the ache.

Who loves us unconditionally, no matter what?
We are her frisky angels day by day, we are her shade,
we capture her eyes swollen by crying, but
her soul is agitated, strong, and she's never afraid.

Who is the strongest, but for herself, never?
The pressure is always colouring her thoughts.
She follows her own imperfect destiny, however
she's the architect of love, not for profit, but for loss.

Who wouldn't want to radiate of quiet and peace?
She does not. She does everything in her own way.
She's the picture of endless love that will never cease,
answering to our millions of questions every single day.

Who is the sea nourished with tears of longing? I admit.
When we think of her, we get hot chills, I can tell.
We love her, for we don't know the way not to do it,
without her, we would be voiceless in our own shell.
Irina BBota Jan 25
I feel so dizzy seeing
the dancers in the square,
their shadows are flying
into a royal dimension,
like they are some riders
of the eternal flame,
the eclipse of doubt is
no longer in my attention.
Their eyes are speaking some
exotic and tropical truth,
that no one could ever
really understand,
they are like saviours
in the moonlight,
I'm impressed by their youth,
like paradise phantoms, in front
of the chaos, they never bend.
It's like going through a fine portal
into the arena of a ******,
where the hands of the virtue
are touching the house of arts,
she's the heiress,
she's our destiny's surgeon,
blowing away the storms
from the paradise of our hearts.
It's like we all gathered
in a fiery reunion
in which victory rises
from the empire of dance,
the pattern of the wind and
clever masks are in communion,
melting this silence
in a memorable romance.
Irina BBota Jan 23
Don't want any songs of a gun,
don't want to hurt anyone,
don't want any endless run
no more. I've had enough. I'm done.

No more indomitable tease,
no more spirits in chains like these,
no more falling on our knees,
don't want any war, no more, please.

Don't want any debt to the danger,
don't want a family picture with me as a stranger,
don't want to be haunted down by a ranger
no more. This is major.

No more unreasonable favours,
no more not knowing the food's flavours,
no more fighting with the neighbours,
don't want any more bodies arranged in layers.

Don't want any legion just for feeding my pride,
don't want any more crossroads inside,
don't want my happiness to be denied
no more. Too many people had died.
Irina BBota Jan 20
I left my thoughts on the pillow
and started waltzing on the carpet barefoot
just to see that wicked smile of yours
while the cloud's throwing out its soot,
making alliances with the purple storm,
unwelcoming the beauty of the darkness
the one between the stars,
keeping us in the fortress of unfulfilled dreams,
leaving us all behind stainless steel made bars.

I left my thoughts on the pillow,
the bedroom sins remain in the night,
your kiss has left all my senses in turmoil,
for I was and I am a very old soul inside.
Charmed and crowned by Madame Tempest,
looking for a bone of guilt,
expecting the unexpected at a wedding's breakfast,
a brilliant book of menace she has built.

I left my last thoughts on the pillow,
and then I left the other dark half of mine
that annihilated this restlessness from my soul.
Now I can shout out loud: I'm alive!
Irina BBota Dec 2018
Ask the sun why it's so yellow,
and drops gold through my bare arms,
among bunches of white clouds as a
powder of the blue sky above the farms.

Ask why the water had just been pumped
on the fields, thirsty for green, and then
it turns into an embroidered silk skirt
balancing the years of clover's petals again.

Ask my arms why they have opened
to embrace the wind blowing through my hair
and gives to the forests green, silent lungs,
to beat the time that shows us a truth that's rare.

I know, one day our skin will have wrinkles
like the bleached petals, spoiled and faded,
and our youth will disappear between the walls
towards the nightfall with a lot of love invaded.

I know, even our brain will erode one day
like caves sculpted by the water that's thin
and will wipe out the crucial parts of us
to make room for things that are about to begin.

But... although our bodies will decompose,
they will rot right next to each other,
surviving the apocalypse that will convince us:
that our life was not a lie... but a wonder.
Irina BBota Dec 2018
sins in a suitcase
the revenge and betrayal
building false houses
Irina BBota Dec 2018
If your brown eyes because of my longing would weep,
it would leave on your soul black traces of mud,
I would fly like a hungry bird, I could not sleep,
from my blue eyes, the sad tears would grow in a flood.

If your palm would look again after my warm body
among the grass that is crushed under horse hooves,
the crystal of the night's skyline would give up its hobby,
on a curved field it would show you its moves.

If your ears would miss my voice in the summer breeze,
on the gravel of the path, among the crystalline rain,
you would hear the wind screaming among the trees,
your heart would beat faster, to relieve you from the pain.

If your lips would be kissed by my tear surprisingly shaped,
you would think that you are at a date in the sky's empire,
from the house of soul, even the verbs would have been escaped,
the vows would no longer burn like an intense fire.

But wait! An angel comes and your spirit will lighten up
in a world where things don't get old and die anymore,
to lure up beginnings that crowns our love, it'll be a new start-up
for us to be two stars uniting their destinies like before.
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