CERBUL


Din creieri, prin ochi, mi-au crescut crengi. Iar vantul le bate si ploaia le uda spre a se lungi-n deriva. In primavara vietii cresc frunze crude, proaspete buruieni ca ochelari de soare. Cand soarele incepe-a se ascunde, din ochi-mi plang amare, frunze zbarcite si pale.
Iar de vreo trei zile incoace, port cu mandrie zapada. Ma ninge si-ador cum zapada imi mangaie genele crengi si rad de placere la gandul ca par falnic cerb.

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