"Here is my secret. It is very simple: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.."- Antoine de Saint Exupéry

Archive for January 17, 2013

Music for My Heart

“All of my songs for you
All of my songs are sad
Whenever you wake at night you say
That all of your dreams were bad
Give me your tightest arm
Give me an I love you
I’ll stay awake all night
And blow your darker thoughts far from you…”




many hours you stood
in front of my heart
and you dropped your
shadow over me

my bones are thin
of so much waiting
on the gate of the world
watching how others die
of a desease that spreaded
like the wild fire

now in the middle of the night
when my core cannot sleep
I write you
mute letters.


memyselfandela, 2012

White Bishop

White Bishop/ Nebun de Alb,

by Adrian Paunescu

Now I’m emptier than ever,
Since I feel more and more rich of you
And on the temples stay the sun and the moon,
Now I feel the worst and best.

And look, there is nobody to help us,
The world barely sustains itself
And in a white wall of mute muses
Black bishops seek a path

And I love you with pity and with horror,
All that is yours belongs to me,
Like a White Bishop that captures
The Black Queen for eternity.

All-round anomalous views
Fragile children leading their parents on their back
Old people with bone sleighs on the slopes
And albatrosses coming towards dry horizons

I miss you and I’m looking for your face
In every edge of nature,
In the palm of the hand, if I take the sand,
I feel a ring playing the game of bride and groom

I hear you in battles from time to time
The soldiers of your guard worship you,
My beloved with very big problems,
With Slavonic face and name of a Queen

And I love you with pity and with horror,
All that is yours belongs to me,
Like a White Bishop that captures
The Black Queen for eternity.


translation from Romanian : memyselfandela, 2013

Black Shadow


Black shadow on a sad chess board of life
Torn apart between angels and lies
I’m the pulse at the other end of a knife
Stabbing this heart that’s striving to be wise.

There are no lips that can kiss my beauty
Nor eyes for all the pain that I’ve seen
No voice for my speechless feelings
No words to describe the places where I’ve been


memyselfandela, 2013


Soul Mirror

Oglinda apelor
apleaca-te si atinge
suflet geaman
cercuri in oglinda


Water mirror
lean and watch
the deep
twin soul
circles in mirror .


memyselfandela, 2012



The tales from the other shore

The tales from the other shore/ Povestile de pe celalat mal

by Cristian Lisandru

clichés are burning us
we forgot to disentangle life
sheet by sheet
in depths
boil impetuous hearts
sentenced to bypass

realm sacrificed to darkness
knights are guarding the counters
paying taxes
happy towards evening
tournaments take place in the social canteen
bulimic princesses put in pledge crinoline
that are moth-eaten
all these forests
hang sufferings on their branches

we cross an unnamed river
I sip stories
from your ankles
while a dying witch
sells second-hand curses



translation from Romanian: memyselfandela, 2013

I Write

I write sad, I write tears and death
I write my love in black and white in a book
I write despair, curse, endless torment
I write what I wanted, what sins I have not committed with you
I write  of beauty, of tomorrow, always of you
I write “together” apart and breaking it in solitudes comes difficult to me
I write of beginning and of end, of yesterday spent
Of today too empty without having you in it
I write crazy, sick, hopelessly sentenced
Destiny, written closed, your name without mine continuation

I Write/Scriu, by Mr. Bob



translation from Romanian: memyselfandela, 2013

Last night


Last night I had an encounter with Death
it was creeping around souls
and stopped to look in our eyes.

We met many times
I watched it powerless while it robbed the life
of people I held so dear.

Last night I reached out the hand of my soul
and my hand took another hand
so Death had to leave sighing.


memyselfandela, 2013




solitude is
when nobody shares your thoughts
no voice calls your name when you enter your house,
no eye looks for you when it’s bed time,
nobody tells you good morning.

solitude is when
even if there’s someone in your life
they don’t care about your feelings
so consumed by their ambitions and wishes
that they fail to see you, leaving you always on the side.

solitude is
a way of living or an accident of life,
a handicap or a blessing
a calling or a choice
for each one of us has a different story.

solitude is not
to be alone physically
to never see people
to never talk or never have friends,
solitude is to feel that you are the only one of your kind.


memyselfandela, 2013


Good Night



Never Never Never Give Up!!!