#bucharest
Hello, dear Bucharest, I write
from Transylvania, with a brotherly sight.
Come on, don’t be mad at me,
I send you joy from God’s decree.
I, a Moldovan, with longing true,
bring greetings straight from Heaven to you,
from mountains high and meadows rare,
the message comes, bright and clear.
Come on, let’s start a dance, a round,
let people dance at morning’s sound.
It’s your day, a celebration grand,
flower by flower across the land!
Remember this in your heart today:
in this wide country, we all have a say.
Bucharest, Transylvania, and Moldova,
united we stand — that is the law!
20.09.2025
With love from Transylvania,
Andrei Guțu
Nov 6, 2025
Nov 6, 2025 at 5:22 AM UTC
Legs tangled together, clammy skin on skin, and the sun
rising behind pointed rooftops, painting the sky
an aquarelle of budding peonies and candied orange peel.
Bruised lips taste of chocolate and blueberries, and the
white wine from last night. My arms feel heavy and
my soul is featherlight, soaring into the sunshine.
The morning air is crisp in a way that announces
summer heat for the coming day, and a discarded blouse
moves with the breeze. Life is eminent yet strangely
far away from this corner of the earth that we have
burrowed ourselves into, hidden from the universe.
The city hums with life and wisdom and love, and we
have watched it burst into song and whisper quietly
but it has never seemed as beautiful as now.
Fingers link together like souls have, and lips brush
in a greeting, in recognition, and then smile.
May 27, 2017
May 27, 2017 at 4:47 PM UTC