Along the river

Water bends, rolls down
to fiind a place to banks,
waves break by stones
and curl up around them,
yellow poplars,
that watch the river, tremble,
drooping willows wash their locks
in hesitating water.
I remember how I was fishing
under shaded banks
with my friends.
Fishes were avoiding my fishing rod
and were inviting me to the competition with them.
From the river that winds tremblingly,
I hear melancholic verse of the natives
gone to the fishing with the boat.I have felt asleep.
It has seemed to me that a beautiful gondola with a miraculous fairy
has crossed the river.
I was charmed by the beauty of the fairy
that has glittered on the lustre of the water.
On the bank, I have done token to the gondola
and the oarsman has brought the gondola near the bank.
At the light of the torch, I have caught the hand of the fairy
and I have invited her on the bank.
A spark has died out in her heart,
bugle of silver has blown long
the disappearance of the gondola.
The fishers from the village have woken me up:
It was getting late.You have to go home.

Poetry by Valentin Gabriel Cristea
Read 909 times
Written on 2006-06-24 at 11:10

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Zoya Zaidi
Dreams and desire,
Reality and fantasy,
Facts and fiction,
When they intermingle,
A poem like this is born!

Who are you?
Oh, conjurer of dreams,
Who are you?

Can't stop saying welcome!
Hope you are here to stay?

***hugs of a fonder kind***
((((Love, with a deeper meaning)))))
xxx, Zoya