“Zilele, Zilele”
I don’t know how my days were,
But to the very last, they burned, they burned.
Their ash lay on my palm.
The wind came and . . .
. . . . . . . . . .
Links:
[1] https://www.ablemuse.com/digital-books-17/v17/digital edition/Complete Digital Version of -/Able Muse, Print Edition (Number 17), Summer 2014