What if, life ends without lOve and you never will know it? Sometimes, even cold is so warm in a loneliness morning! Books are my only love, they are friends and dreams. Our love awakes flowers that aren't in love, my mouth is in silent! I rest in the shadow of fall, my heart is sleeping. Shelter me with green leaf, in the fragrance of your lips! Oh scent, you exist so I may disappear in your left side. Above love and poems, what is most painfull then the tree without life!? Warm by my pages of thoughts, leaves sea wind. Skin, little sadness, which speaks of my spring that may never come! Quietly, she hear the crying of autumn. After wounds, dead comes with the happiness of time! Inside lupine, it is a blooming cheek alongside, any road that is in my living body of a long valley. Face of a fall look that even books don't know it! What it is life really to you? Nostalgia, every time I may be the leaf that snuggled in your being! Her pieces in the garden, I have forgotten that you're poems was my only true love. Grave of leaf is all that you left to me, autumn witouth a road of roses!
- A. A. Popovici,
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