Επιμέλεια: Εύα Πετροπούλου Λιανού
TO BILD ETERNITY
Even if Summer does not admit
(and Summer is my white shirt).
I dress with the season of hugs.
And a gust of blue sea.
I dress my most beautiful clothes.
And I pacify Rosinant
like a woman.
I throw away vanity, sadness, success.
I quiet down inside.
And I’m whole.
Life is an effort for two.
And a tangle of human steps.
Fantasy. And moments.
Collected by the higher
delight of our Spirit.
has come from Heaven.
And the Earth
And we – the viewers,
sent here to build
from our Faith.
© Rozalia Aleksandrova
HUNTERS OF HAPPINESS
Poets are Hunters of Happiness.
Word – like a bouquet of fragrant flowers,
like a glow in a cloudless sky,
like a green diaper in the desert,
like a warm arm at the pole,
like the smile of a friend.
The poet is alone with his dreams.
And he cries out with all his might for happiness.
Human happiness is a breath of wind.
It slips away on the tops of longings.
Only the good hunters of the moments
they can notice it
without touching it.
And it already travels to another soul,
another peak targeted
from the human genius for conquest.
The World goes like this.
Joys, daydreams and quiet dreams.
They herald a new beginning.
To everything achieved by humans.
And no going back!