You... me... both of us and two cups of coffee,
a sweet, red wine and a scented Yankee candle,
our eyes are whispering to each other, as sweet toffee
love can no longer be delayed, but handled.

In the background, Zamfir's famous pan flute,
dropping lava in my blood, not on the roads,
wherever I go, just rose petals in their suit
our hearts beat in tandem until they explode.

We are the encyclopedia of abundant feelings,
we are the actors of an interesting start,
life resembles a tragicomedy written on the ceilings
at the thought of being followed by a kiss from the heart.

Me... you... us... and a beginning of a love story,
we have to be patient and take care not to crush
the butterflies I annoyed on my wall from the dormitory
not to lose them in the labyrinth of love in our rush.

There will be feelings that maybe will grow,
for we are always running after eternal love,
or maybe they will fade, for the fear of saying hello,
and then we ask for more time from the mourning dove.

But let's give to Time what we owe ... time.
Time is you... Time is me... we are both,
this season wouldn't starve us, it would be a crime,
palm in palm we'd pass through waves and take an oath.

We inspire love and we expire a naive passion,
the past would be just a small curse
dazzling us with many kinds of affection,
whispering our names through its silent verse.

It's your wave... my wave... it's our wave,
we only have air to breathe abruptly while we ascend,
we haunt our own thoughts while we crave
for the expiry date to never come to an end.

I'm going to meet with the yesteryear woman,
to give her a sweet, scented lily kind of smile.
I'm going to give her a hug and tell her it'll be okay,
in the yesterday's threshold, in her merciless exile.

There have been many tears and sighs in vain,
in the deserted wilderness, no one to comfort her.
With a ruthless heart, now full of bitterness,
the mistrust in love made her see everything in blur.

She always questioned her own beauty and worth,
but she does not bend in front of the kicks of the fate.
She keeps silence thinking that it does not hurt anymore,
her cheeks swallowed the tears running in torrents of hate.

Her gentle heart was pounding from fear in her chest,
the burden was too hard to bear, so she's leaving.
She braids now enigmas with determined words,
but the river fountains were lamenting and grieving.

I will tell her that tomorrow will be a brand new day,
the stars and the moon will always be there to guide her.
That in this life nothing is what it seems to be,
the sun one day will rise in her way. Yes, my dear Mother!

Dear Heart, I can hear your silence, I feel it screaming,
without any defense, poisoned by wounds and smoke,
dressed up only with pain and numbness, as a stroke,
without an umbrella, in the summer rain weeping.

You are chained into the rough cage of fear,
on your shoulders, I can feel the pressure,
after all this time, the betrayal still hurts, it's still so clear,
in your boutique are not just delights and pleasure.

There are also fiery words, thrown into the wind,
causing a devastating drought in the soul, begging
the malicious smiles that spread ruthlessly thinned
flames on their nostrils, like a bleeding dragon.

Promise yourself that the drought will not dry your will
to feel once more the sweet scent of love given by a golden fish,
with your heart in your palm you will light endlessly, as you wish,
without the eternal dilemma. That is my only thrill!

Hello! ... It's me! How are you? How are you doing?
Do you think about me at night, when you sleep?
Are you listening to our favorite music while pursuing
To remember our sweet moments you want to keep?

I remember your dovelike face when you slept,
How I watched over you... you didn't even know...
How much I wanted to feel your protective wings, except
That they made my heart feel like floating feather in the snow.

I wonder if I disappeared from the nest of sorrow...
Would you find me in your soul, somewhere in a tiny corner?
Would you call me, or look for me in the coffee steam tomorrow?
At dawn or late at night, would you call me like a foreigner?

I wrote and rewrote a dozen letters to you in my mind
Surfing through my thoughts, causing me creeps...
Hoping for a peaceful and calm existence, as a blind
I looked in the mirror and it slapped my cheeks.

Then I woke up from dreaming with wide open eyes,
I was hoping in vain that fate would declare us admitted,
I knew I had a privileged place in the world's misery, full of lies,
Now I know... Life has something else destined for us. So, I submitted.

Please don't ask me today to love you in mystery,
to stop in front of the thick wall of silence.
Let my soul get rid of fear and feel the victory,
for only you can extinguish it with happiness and guidance.

Please don't ask me today from your life to step out,
I'd be a traveler in time and lost in my own space.
In the heart of another, I can't cross the bridge without any doubt,
I'd be consumed on the edge of the fire, that's not my place.

Please don't ask me today to tell you about love.
It's not surrounded in velvet or shrouded in cashmere.
It's the bird's thrill that fills your ear, it's the white dove,
it's about the emotions in the theater you can hear.

Please don't ask me today to leave you in the box of longing,
for I would always open it, thinking and dreaming about you.
With wings of an angel, you would be brought to me by the wind,
but only in my thoughts. You wouldn't leave for me when the sky is blue.

Please, just ask me today to stay forever in your soul,
to flow through your veins, to be your living desire.
Breathe on my heart, that's all I want, that is your role.
You wouldn't leave alone, we wouldn't be empty souls singing in a choir.

My happiness ... it comes from the smallest things,
as it flows into the clepsydra the grains of sand.
My happiness ... is the thought of using my wings,
my warm soul that surrounds you with its hand.

My happiness ... is the rainbow after a big storm,
is the fragrant, beautiful scented flower, like a lip balm.
My happiness ... are your eyes as a color spell in uniform
and you embrace me all in your comforting palm.

My happiness ... is the song humming your name
under the burst of tender kisses of a guitar on fire.
My happiness ... is your vibrant glance in a frame,
your touch on a bear fur, like a hot desire.

My happiness ... is my smile in which you mirror in the night,
your face is dear heaven in my humble garden.
My happiness ... is faith in love and in what is right,
it's the flame burning, without asking for a pardon.

My happiness ... is the sleep you will watch for me
with fine caresses on my long raven hair.
My happiness ... is the starry sky where I feel free,
our bathing in the great spiritual love, like a prayer.

My happiness ... is coffee in two until we're much older,
when the sunrays brings us to life without any risk.
My happiness ... is the sea breeze on our naked shoulder,
spring suite appears, warmed by the heavenly yellow disk.

My happiness ... is to be happy even if I'm sad and on my knee,
for you have the power to raise me up and wipe my tears away.
My happiness ... is to swim against the waves of the sea,
for you are expected, loneliness has announced its delay.

Poor, poor, pitiful me
no place to hide from destiny.

I try to keep my fingers crossed
against all odds, out in the frost.

Operation: death postponed,
feared my visions that I owned.

Hold me tighter in the rain,
so I couldn't feel the pain

of the lovestruck, bad as hell
don't cry if I say: farewell.

It's my doomsday, I admit,
come inside and take a seat

listen how my heart can talk
take my hand, let's have a walk

here I am, don't look any further
frustrated clouds planning my ******.

They are evil in disguise
but I know tomorrow never dies.

I'm cold.
Even if it's summer and the Sun is out,
even if the orchard's trees are full of life.
Their sprinkled shadows are impressive, majestic
over the mowed grass on the affectionate field.
They are waiting patiently for their fruits to ripe,
showing their brave branches like in a play,
as in a prayer to the almighty golden sun,
some more pious and too modest.
Me... just a small second-hand admirer
of the round, glassy porcelain crops,
I was listening to the cheery birds humming.

I'm cold.
Even if the trees are wise and quiet,
in perfectly equal rows they are aligned.
I was watching the green grass as a soft blanket,
shy and barefoot, then I stepped.
Even if above all, that golden globe
shines imposing and then turns into light orange,
he thrones over the thick grass of the hill,
with dew's drops that sparkles in the shadow.

I'm cold.
Even though the lake of a calm, sober blue
provokes me jealousy for its balance,
cause the divine melody of the quiet morning
calls me to participate to that chromotherapy,
asking to give up on the idea of ​​nostalgic lethargy,
not to be defeated... but to write more poetry.

Where should I run?
Where can I hide?
In dreams unguarded by a dying man?
In the flood abandoned
by hope and desire
or in the disguised chances of life,
with souls on fire?
Which way should I take?
What way to choose?
My tears have bloomed,
now I collect the bruise.
You ... you closed your delicate fist,
confuse
and the pain sat down in my heart,
as my muse.
You heard me, but you did not listen at all,
you were sneaking into my dreams in fall.
You have not seen me, though you've been
looking at me for a long time,
when my heart slept his smoothly sleep,
why is that a crime?
How long does it take for us to give up?
How long does it take for us to surrender?
If you do not love me,
give me an antidote
and I'll let go being your copilot.
I ... I forgive myself
for this late seductive spring.
You... forgive yourself too,
for this confusion in the wind
caused us only absent mysterious flights,
that's why I preferred to live
alone in the nights ...

Don’t throw stones on me
My heart’s a lonely hunter
Falling on its knee.

My days are numbered.
I may not go to heaven
After my first death.

The lips of the Moon
Are touching million faces
Bringing them to life.

If I’ll blink I’ll miss
the best version of myself
piece by piece by piece

Sorrow beyond dreams
If I can’t clone gentle heart
Things will fall apart

Today I'm in a mood for a long walk,
to scent the savage-garden creature,
sitting at my rustic coffee table and talk
to the elderflower, my new lace-hat feature.

I'm in the mood of dwarves in my garden,
the rain is my provider of emotion,
but my reason is asking for my pardon
as I see clouds shedding tears in the ocean.

I am in the mood to hear a saxophone,
in jazz arrangements for me to plunge,
not to hear again the old gramophone:
"You can't wipe the past with a sponge"!

Today...
I don't want to make any more steps in a spot,
I disown the fate that is thirsty for my pain,
I can go through life, ice and fire will hurt me not,
If you please come back to love me once again!

This time for a lifetime!

What kind of fool am I
to believe that I own the sun
in tenderhearted, enchanted mornings,
singing a ballad of a worried prisoner
who has secret storms in his blood,
and his sweet melody is calming down
my storms and my distress...

What kind of fool am I
to believe that I once lived in a castle,
and til the morning of the midnight
I was reading tales of the darkest knight,
but then... a strange voice through a cloud
called me “the unearthly child”, out loud...

What kind of fool am I
to believe that the grass is my pillow.
I'm like a downhill dreamer,
walking barefoot in the park,
hand in hand,
waiting to be called into
the Promised Land,
saying the holy vows of Heaven...

What kind of fool am I
if I dreamt the sky burning
as I walked on midnight's alley,
feeling dispossessed of the
sweet things that seem so far...

What kind of fool am I
if I play the game of survival
in the longest season of rain and lightning,
if I take a second glance at life
and catch that amazing moment
when two wrongs can make a right
and don't want to give up, not without a fight.

Well, I must say:
I'll get through all the barriers one day,
even if I end up being the last star from the left,
cause love... will always make me sail like fool,
as long as I'll breath
the miracle of life in my chest.

If I were a bird
I’d take a quick bite of life
Simply by flying

Sweet passion in may,
If tomorrow never comes,
Should I die today?

A tear and a smile
Are taking their dark revenge
In heart’s secret storm.

Thousand splendid stars
At midnight in the garden
Were watching their God.

Once upon a time,
I kissed Death for a second,
Before Life happened.

the shape of the cloud
walks upon the wildest wind
across the ocean

the taste of the wind
reminds me of the sea breeze
inside of Eden

letter to my life
I woke up in love you
please don't let me down

Mistress of the Sun,
I dress words in metaphores.
Tell the Moon I’m home.

Until tomorrow
I’ll send you paper kisses
From the night’s prison.

I smell an intruder, a spy in my house.
Is he coming from the dark zone
on a day it raines forever?
Does he wants my seven tears
or my smile?
Or Yesterday’s days that made
me cry?
He woke me up, leaving traces
in my nightmare,
I was a sad soul in torment,
he was my source of despair,
but I knew it wasn’t
my last evening on Earth,
I confessed all my sins,
since my mother gave me birth,
thinking who’s going to win in hell
if the mirror cracked, or tolls the bell?
I stopped being the girl
who plays with the fire,
calling the devil in disguise a big liar,
‘cause he tried to promise me the heaven,
but I still got my lives to live: seven!

I feel like a bride
In the valley of white dolls,
As I lay dying.

Unbearable sounds
These tears of the butterflies.
Why are they so sad?

Waiting for a smile,
Don’t care if today I die!
Trust me, that’s a lie.

With one foot in Hell
And other one in Heaven,
We’re trapped on this Earth.

My famous first words:
Mommy, daddy, family.
For eternity!

Time is passing by
I am here against my will
Who invented me?

On the unknown path
Life brings you many hazards
You become wiser.

Silent traveller
Swallowed so much bitterness
The night covered him

Colors in the air
Breathing them deeply
I am a rainbow

I'll silence myself while I'll be standing still
the world is going crazy, touching the hand of fear.
I'll build a mountain of love, kindness and will,
so please hold me tighter in the rain, my dear.

If not, I will end in sad and dark despair
it will be no laughter anymore in my heart,
I'll run endlessly on the hills, to you I swear,
like two strangers, believe me, we will fall apart.

I'll be dancing with tears in my eyes
even if silence will reign over everything,
I know in fairytales tomorrow never dies
we promissed to each other to be queen and king.

I'll blame it on the sun, I'll blame it on the sky
I'll colour the loneliness with the echo of my whisper,
I'm gonna live and love, humbled, until I die
with the vows of heaven, love gets even sweeter.

It's never too late to get a second chance
and speak rhapsody of words under the holy moon
pain is an open window, with a deadly glance
fly me up to heaven, so I can see you soon.

27.01.2018 London

I know that silence is calming down my demons,
I'm a pure rainbow in my own unearthly cloud,
the brush of my mind gives colour to the seasons,
limping to the eyelids line, beeing so proud.

I know spelling his name is so peaceful and quiet,
like flying butterflies, with trembling soul,
I close my eyes and feel like life's on a diet,
with that gentle beast who now became my goal.

I know the rebellious soul, hungry for the lover
who would like to extinguish the chariots of fire,
I take by the hand my heart with a thin cover,
when I am suffocating or hanging on a wire.

I know that the sun melts even the icy heart,
and my soul is feeded by words of sweetness,
that after disaster, things will have a fresh start,
and after the rain, I'll be the new life's witness.

Give me a one-way ticket to Nowhere,
to be like a solitary, unique flower,
to see thousands of morning stars,
to be the longing's sweet desire.

Give me a one-way ticket to Anywhere,
my wings have forgotten how to fly,
for going back to my world in seconds,
the resignation will have to pass me by.

Give me a return ticket Anytime,
to give. Because I forgot to receive.
Am I in the clouds or on the ground?
I have loved and I love now, I believe.

Give me a return ticket Anyway,
I do not ask for me to be understood.
I do not want any self-consumption,
angels wouldn't care, but I would.

14.01.2018
London

Who are you? I will probably never know.
Your words are decorating my bending soul.
In silent mornings when I drink my aromatic coffee
Reality disappears, and hypnosis unfolds.

Who are you? The longing that knows my heartache,
Words that I used to believe so easily?
A mute Self, between much white and much black,
Looking constantly for himself in the gloomy parade?

Who are you? You are the world's greatest discovery
Who learnes all about the soul's immortality?
Who sees ice and fire in two distinct colours
And silence speaks to you in tremendous words?

Who are you? A soul with congestion of lava
Who can erupt anytime, leaving behind just waste?
Or a heart pulsing, passing through conversion
And hides his feelings through lyrics and prose?

Who are you? Are you heaven's demonic angel
Who lives and has the courage to shout in the silence,
Who often plays serenades through written poems,
Through mute words, non-words with the gates closed?

Who are you? The one who thinks white will turn gray?
The one who hopes one day black can become white?
Try to see in the fog more colours of your life,
Don't care about time, dual space or duration.

14.01.2018 London

How pretentious can be the silence
in the mornings of the hot summer days!
I felt nothing no more, for patience
is not limited to formal love and it says:

It was just me. The rest of the world delivers
heavy waves stumbling against my wall,
trying to set right the serpentined rivers
of crying, flowing on my crusty skin of a wooden doll.

The Sun, a dragon that throws flames on his nose,
the Wind, too coward to show his refreshing face,
the Sky, discolored in the distance, it froze,
just the Moon closed his eyes, leaving no trace .

Me and I, were not well together,
but I have found the power to listen to myself,
sipping the sweet-bitter coffee, feeling a bit better,
I was learning again to live, to be an other self.

I knew that one day the blank pages will be coloured,
That the ink stains of my soul will disappear,
That I will forget about the storm that is uncovered,
the call of love will be on my side, without shedding no tear.

I knew that butterflies melody I would hear soon,
Birds chattering happy over the green forest,
That I will never hear poor souls screaming in the noon,
That all this will be simple memories on my wrist.

Now I extinguish my thirst with accords of violin,
Mistrust has deserted from my sleepless earth,
Regrets have become sad songs of flowers on my skin,
In the breeze of the morning, forgetting my wound's birth.

When Cupid throws the arrow and big love is calling,
follow it, even if its roads are heavy because of fear!
Turn the silence louder, have the courage even if you're crawling,
look inside you and you will realize. You woke up, my dear!

When you love, you're wearing stormy clothes of silence,
you look up to heaven to see life in colours of the rainbow.
You forget that the world is full of nostalgia, hurt and violence,
you throw the dice to the dreams, then you can say Hello!

When you love, everything is wrapped with light white cover,
you want deeply to cleanse the sadness of its own rust.
You learn to read between the lines of the law of love, to recover
and only when you feel, you will know the mystery of lust.

When you love, even the words from the poetry are blushing
so correct me, please, if you consider that I'm wrong!
For love is not proven only by words that are rushing,
we risk everything without thinking about beeing strong.

When you love, the god's voice falls asleep in the harsh battle,
your barriers disappear into the sweet and bitter melancholy.
The sap of life flows through your veins like vows in the chapel,
and lights the fire with the sighs of sadness of the valley.

So, love the love! To learn to live again, in heaven's creation!
Get your heart in your teeth, have the power to dare!
Live, to feel the flavor of forgiveness and salvation!
Shout out loud your crazy love ... it'll be your answer to your prayer!

You will look for me when the sun will dry your tear
and passenger lovers will accuse your pain,
when you escape from the world's horror and fear,
when the gentle breeze's music will fall down as rain.
Or not...

You'll look for me when your excuses will be drowned
and your warm, ruby glance ​​will look for an answer,
when my laugh will have a contagious sound,
when you meet me on the street, in the arms of a dancer.
Or not...

You're going to look for me, grumpy and full of hesitation,
when the thighs of the nights will be closer than yesterday,
when I'll not look back for a long time from love's station,
when rhymes will be written on violin accords, in my holiday.
Or not...

You're going to look for me and ask me with your sight
if red rose petals of romance had fallen over my life,
but I will not let the flame burn me anymore, in the night,
even if your memory I will let it go, without a strife.
Or not...

No, I'm not a poet.
I'm just an interpreter of tales in which tears are drops of longing ...
Tales, in which I hear through my ears
echoes of an invisible and indivisible world ...
I sometimes like to pour myself a little red
and sweet wine of the silence cup,
the inner silence is erupting from me,
which seems to me to be a deaf-mute dispute between heart and reason ...

No, I'm not a poet.
Only words are fighting against me,
but still, I feel my heart is lifting in their arms,
with the same intensity as at the beginning...
The letters in my words do not need arguments,
they just want to free themselves,
to touch souls more and more, joining in verses,
their destinies being knotted with rhymes ...


No, I'm not a poet.
I'm just a human beeing who, for a few moments,
has a breath of inspiration,
swallowing with greed the air from the room
where I lay down my silence, my love, my longing,
trying to transform words into a vibrant power, almost tangible.
Sometimes I use words with a killing flesh of attraction,
like a masterful crowning of the letters that take hold of my pen...
and sometimes with a gentle, sweet glance,
whispering voluptuously, making my rhymes fall on their knees ...


No, I'm not a poet.
I just measure the universe with a hungry, critically eye-catching curiosity,
while the aroma of my coffee is flowing in the air,
escaping from the espresso,
mysteriously and dazzling...
I just caress the words on the pavements of the lyrics
peeled by the rains of the heart where the letters are sad and lonely...

Now I retire with a slight bow,
as an unspoken satisfaction, in front of all those who read me,
in front of the ones you know me...
A delusive lust to write a few lyrics has taken me by surprise...
maybe about truth, maybe about numb dreams,
maybe about the cure of lost hearts... which is love!

I write with letters of the silent alphabet
the foreword is a short criticized page.
With my heart pounding and silence as my bed
I notice that my life will step to another stage.

I will not be a poet, I will just pretend
that I use noble and enchanted words
I'll write, but I'll be not famous at the end
I'm going to search for the emotions of verbs.

And the non-colorful muse with which I feed,
will be hiding in the comfort of billions of stars
will feel melancholy this entire universe of greed
my eardrums will have an echo of silence and scars.

Yesterday...
I was going on the edge of life with the nicked soul
the disappointment in me was announcing the storm,
but the eyes, pointing to the infinite horizon's goal,
like two blue pearls, vibrated restlessly and warm.

Today...
I admit, without any disagreement or resistence
that my world that was lost beyond any sight,
which at some point evoked a certain distance,
did not want to be just a poor mortal in the night.

Tomorrow...
I hope I'll have the soul infused with care and love
to believe in the harmony of the unblemished bells,
to pass all on the universe of the divine realm, above...
and me... to be born again with crystalline shells.

There are beatings of sharp wings in the air
and the fear haunts in this mocking mourning
that boils inside instead of blooming,
under her temples the anger is rolling.

With the face of a mortal, she is condemned
to endure the vaporous sea of ​​desolation,
she wants to extinguish the fountain of the stolen fire,
she moans in vain, she's cursed by the gods.

The blow of the rage throws her into the sea of ​​fire
with burning strike of tempest and flood,
the whip of the gods harassing the heavens,
almost lightning everything until flames.

Until the infinite smile of the sea waves
it'll not dry up its powers and will forget it all,
when she will find the harbor of her fears,
she'll cross the strait with a courageous heart .

I believe… that the night hides abyss of silence,
fleeting butterflies swirls and bends over my eyelashes,
gloomy shadows, shuddering cavalcades of emotions,
the seed of light breaks down the tangled paths of life …

I believe... that nostalgia has the perfume of a rainbow
what strikes the unwritten verse between my lips,
with withered sounds resonating on the alley of life
the noisy clinker wants the world to amuse ...

I believe... that the water's murmur reflects bulbs of light,
the sad dance of the autumn cuts the road to ruins,
the trembling forest, dry, now deeply broken,
wants to mourne in front of heaven, making things right  ...

I believe... that springs will mirror in the quiet waters,
the serene sighs will once whisper my name,
to disturb the calm of warm hours with a charming smile,
to turn on the desire with his mouth hungry for love ...

I almost believed that autumn came,
that rains castles of emotions have built.
Who is guilty of all those things?
The forest on the crust of sadness slipped.

In fall's eyes you see the leaves in the wind,
seeking happiness, weeping for the summer.
For nobody ever-ever told them
what is the meaning of a true autumn.

The days and dawns seem so far now,
the golden leaves flow in a theatrical way.
It was the end of the autumns ball,
they listen triumphantly on the unobstructed paths.

Autumn, with her untrustworthy sadness
returns again, sipping the light of the forest.
Looks like all is floating, resembling to a wave,
they curl and crumble from shore into shore.

The silent trees on the fall's fragile shoulders
are like leaves in the arms of rains soldiers.
With divine lights come through the enchanted glass
at the crossroad to give her one more kiss.

The autumn of soul is like a bouquet of wind,
like love-loving salvation wandering in thoughts.
The sap of love penetrates into the holy rains
with cold splashes, for having the last words.

An empty bed is a valley of tears
on a dark, lonely street
and it’s taking many years
for the dancing stars to meet…

An empty bed is like a foggy day
when the inner smile is missing
people say that we should obey
in front of love, when kissing…

An empty bed is thief in the night
who hates the moonlight serenade
and takes from our dreams a bite
for all emotions that aren’t paid…

An empty bed is echo of the whisper
and we should blame it on the moon
because doesn’t give us shiver
in front of love, we remain immune…