The park of death [Grădina morţii]
The park of death; remember? It was late
The daylight faded, evening did expand,
And we were walking slowly, hand in hand,
Leaving our steps be piloted by fate.
In a low voice we spoke and slowly crept
Until we reached the gate and went ahead
Into the sanctuary where the dead,
By the grim mistress gathered, soundly slept.
In the cool air was spreading all around
The fragrance of those flowers big and small,
Which filled our lungs as soon as we drew near.
Thrilled by the silence charming and profound
We also stood in silence... You recall
That our first kiss occurred right there, my dear?
poem by Ştefan Octavian Iosif, translated by Octavian Cocoş
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