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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2006-09-15 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
Stretch your hand and open the window,
maybe a sunbeam drops in, in a zigzag way, by reflection, maybe a star promising a change. Open the window, perhaps a person in rush drops a glance inside, a beauty girl sprinkled by the rain, a shallow mother which lost its baby. Open the window, maybe the ball of the children shows up their voice perhaps climbs up a bending branch, a kitten. Open the window, even if a wave of dust, of hail, invades, a shadow or its shadow, two shadows in one, or even a shadow shading another. Open the window, even if the city fell asleep, even if the city passed away, even if there is no sign which of the two. Stretch your hand and open for us the window . In its place there will be a painting hanged, speechless staring at us. At least it will fill our empty wall. poet: Joseph Josephides country: Cyprus (EU)
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