When years crushed my silence, they drove me along,
Away of my dreamer, away of my song.
Old tunes were forgotten – instead there was fight,
A road on the left side, a road on the right.
The matter of choosing came running to me.
What words shall I whisper? What heart shall I be?
No smiles and no beauty – the seemed to be lost,
Forgotten forever in mountains of frost,
As lost seemed forever the phantom of “I”,
Though who could imagine that children can die?
Continuous wander in nobody’s land –
No steps to be followed, no footprints in sand.
Just once, in this storming, my tears came along,
When missing my dreamer, when missing my song.
Away of my dreamer, away of my song.
Old tunes were forgotten – instead there was fight,
A road on the left side, a road on the right.
The matter of choosing came running to me.
What words shall I whisper? What heart shall I be?
No smiles and no beauty – the seemed to be lost,
Forgotten forever in mountains of frost,
As lost seemed forever the phantom of “I”,
Though who could imagine that children can die?
Continuous wander in nobody’s land –
No steps to be followed, no footprints in sand.
Just once, in this storming, my tears came along,
When missing my dreamer, when missing my song.
Poet
Alina Toma
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