"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

Night

Eyes / Ochi

In a far away land there is a city with hundreds of wise houses. Each house has a roof, a soul and an attic with two windows. Eyes scrutinize the birds that get back to their nests late at night, the grannies that bake homemade bread, the blatant children playing outside, the flowers raising their heads in the sun, the cats that purr in hidden corners, the dogs hiding their precious bones, the women that dream of the return of their husbands and the husbands dreaming of other women.

Every day opens a new color, a new hope, ends a life and begins others. Every evening sends to sleep all the rippled memories of the day, all the children and cats and birds and wives and husbands. Some of the grannies will sleep longer, other babies will get born out of the dreams of past nights. Some of the flowers will grow seeds, others will bloom, the stars will seem to rotate on the sky awaiting the rays of the same sun that has opened the eyes of all the children and women and cats and husbands and grannies and birds.

When morning comes the smell of coffee invades the streets. It fills up the sky and the staircases of all houses. As eyes open life vibrates, noises clash in the air, birds sing again, cats lick meticulously their paws and wash their furs with slow movements on the edge of wide open windows, dogs inspect every corner of their territory, children moan instead of waking up, wives pack lunch for their husbands, husbands go to work hoping that the day will be better that the other days. And even though life seems the same, it is always different.
In the city where houses have eyes life can still flow in unexpected patterns. ochi2Houses have eyes in Sibiu, Romania.

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Intr-o tara indepartata exista un oras cu sute de case intelepte. Fiecare casa are un acoperis, un suflet si un pod cu doua ferestre. Ochi privesc cu mare atentie pasarile care se intorc la cuiburile lor noaptea, bunicile care coc paine de casa, copiii galagiosi care se joaca pe afara, florile care isi ridica frumosul cap in soare, pisicile care torc in colturi ascunse, cainii care isi ascund mult iubitele oase, femeile care viseaza cu ochii deschisi la intoarcerea barbatilor lor si barbatii care viseaza la cu totul alte femei.

Fiecare zi deschide o noua culoare, o noua speranta, sfarseste o noua viata si incepe altele. Fiecare seara trimite la culcare toate amintirile ondulate ale zilei, toti copiii si toate pisicile si toate pasarile si toate nevestele si toti barbatii. Unele bunici vor dormi mai mult, alti copii se vor naste din visele noptilor care au trecut. Unele flori vor face seminte, altele vor inflori, stelele vor parea ca se rotesc pe cer asteptand razele aceluiasi soare care a deschis ochii tuturor copiiilor si femeilor si pisicilor si barbatilor si bunicilor si pasarilor.

Cand vine dimineata aroma de cafea napadeste toate strazile. Umple cerul si casele scarilor. In timp ce ochii se deschid, viata vibreaza, zgomote se ciocnesc in aer, pasari canta din nou, pisici isi ling meticulos labele si isi spala blana cu miscari foarte tacticoase pe marginea ferestrelor larg deschise, caini inspecteaza fiecare colt al teritoriului lor, copii gem in loc sa se trezeasca, neveste impacheteaza pranzul pentru barbatii lor, barbati merg la lucru sperand ca ziua va fi mai buna decat alte zile. Si desi viata pare la fel, este mai totdeauna diferita.

In orasul in care casele au ochi viata poate inca sa se scurga in tipare cu totul neasteptate.

Casele au ochi in Sibiu, Romania.

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300 words / 300 de cuvinte,

Story and Translation / Poveste si Traducere : memyselfandela / Adela Galasiu October 2013 / July 2015

Photo- Photobucket


Night

Mass of stone
I become
as my night falls
dreams of memory, dreams of life
travel through my frozen mind
a solitude greater than life
invades me
as I lay down and
die for another night.

———————————

memyselfandela, 2013

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Phot: google, Ben Gossens


Christ Is Risen! Hristos A Inviat!

felicitare-pasteHappy Blessed Easter !!!

Easter Bunny


Black & White

I’m tired of pretending
That my soul didn’t pulverise over you
When you betrayed me.

I’m done with dreaming of deliverance
After you’ve been one side and the other
Of my love universe.

Keep my stolen trust
And the dying smile in the corner of my eyes,
I’ve been only one in your big jar of hearts.

Dazzling pain struck me
I should have never loved you, stranger,
You who’ve never been and will never be true.

Withering days will pass, light will pierce this night
In another life where it will be
Your turn to wander in the dark.

B&W100 words, memyselfandela, January 2014

Photo: Mal Smart


The Sound of Missing You

sadness-sad-quotes-33417895-506-339

The sun paints a last trace of life before dying in agony. With it’s last drops of shadow it lingers under my tired eyes.

I carry within the memory of what love used to be. I can still hear our fading steps on the same old roads, on the same grey pavement. I can still feel your arm tight around my waist and your laughter.

Near me other couples chat like we used to, holding hands, blessed to not know how futile and doomed this moment of happiness is, sentenced to only live for a glimpse in time.

*

I was a fool to believe that you can make a choice. No. I chose you. The one you really are, not the one that hides his face. The one in which I believe, not the one that never believes in himself.

Darkness rises all around. In thoughts, in the shivering cold, in the unspoken emptiness. My once loving heart bleeds at the thought that you’re gone, yet nobody can take me the smile that you used to have in your eyes.

Maybe in your dimension you dance now with other masked faces and other smiles give you a passing smile. Yet deep inside you will never find your path on your own, there’s no path without love.

**

Rain strikes my cheek like your fingers once used to, falling cold, quenching the marks left by your ardent kisses. My lips whisper the shadows of the same name that never ceased to linger in my mind since I last saw you.

Countless prayers go your way, but you don’t even know it. If I would have stepped off the edge of my life I would still have never found you, for you are far, much further than my thought can reach to kiss you good night.

Memories of a madman fill up the sky as I lay myself to sleep. But even in my dream there will only be this burning love that has never ended.

***

333 words, memyselfandela, January 2014


Sleep

aurora-boreal2

As I lay down in the darkest night stars circle over me.
Purple-green waves crush on the air shores
And the frost bites deep in the stone of my core
Petrified, inert, forgotten, wearing deep inside
The runes left behind by your loving touch.pretty-aurora-borealis

Heavy mists fill up the dancing sky,
Lead shroud of silence
Engulfing my breath, closing my eye,
Covering in a distance the last blink
Of the newly born stars bursting in the heartbeat of Orion.aurora-borealis-aurora-borealis-10324487-1600-1034

No caress left to touch me, gone is your summer,
The dragonfly of your soul has long forgotten me.
Visions of light sparkle weary in my mind
As I fade in the endless dream
Of your warm finger drawing circles on my frozen heart.

large123 words, Memyselfandela, January 2014

 


Walking In The Air

Come dance on countless whispers, in the pure atmosphere
High above, beyond all worries.
The same lonesome trumpet illuminates my night
Come float with me beyond all words.

I won’t forget you, weary soul
In this dimension where we found each other.
If I would turn the distance in a golden thread
It would lead me far away to the moon.

Our clay existence, the cage of our bodies are nothing
In this realm where our deepest thoughts ignite.
Sleepless nights sublimated in the dark shadow under your loving eyes
Will never ever keep you from floating in the air.
1 flight 2 flighht 3 flight 4 flight 5 flight 6 flight 7 flight 8 flight 9 flight 10 flight 11 flight 12 flight

100 words, memyselfandela, November 2013

Photos: memyselfandela, November 2013