Acum, dimineaţa [Now, in the morning] - Magda Isanos

Now, the morning is high and white,
full of trees that rustle and bend,
and lonely hills brimming with light,
which, gasping, I quickly descend.

It’s summer up to the sky; and
the green of this wide plain that spreads
teaches us that the dead have a land
and the seas profound, silent beds.

Added by: Octavian

Translator: Octavian Cocoş
Language: English


see more poems written by: Magda Isanos



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