Parents [Părinţii] - Lucian Blaga

To clay descend our parents, one by one,
while in ourselves the gardens will still grow,
They're meant to be the very roots below,
by whose extension underground we run.

Beneath the stones our parents slowly roam
while under lights we linger for a while,
while happiness we borrow with a smile,
and pain, and living water from each home.

Added by: Octavian

Translator: Bogdan Ştefănescu, Octavian Cocoş
Language: English


see more poems written by: Lucian Blaga



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