Where are you today

I do not know.

Eagles where passing trough God above us.

I slip myself in memories, so long since then.

On the old summits where sun comes up from the Earth,

Your sight was so blue and very high.

Legendary rumor is rising from the fir trees.

All understanding eye was the holly mountain lake.

In my inner self it’s talking even now about you

Form my eyelashes death streams are dropping out.

I should cut the grass,

I should cut the grass where you stepped.

With the denying scythe on my shoulder,

In the last sadness I am girding.

Lucian Blaga

via