“When banished from the nest of the eternity,
the first-man,
amazed and thoughtfully passed through the woods or on the fields,
tortured him, rebuking him
the light, the horizon or clouds – and any flower
it was darting him with a memory of the Paradise-
And, the first man, the vagrant, couldn’t cry.

Once, tired out from too clear blue
of  the spring,
with a soul of a child the first man
fell with his face into the dust:
– Lord, take my seeing,
or if you can, bleary my eyes
with a shroud,
not to see
nor flowers, nor sky, no smiles of Eve, nor clouds,
’cause you see – their light hurts me. 

And then, the Merciful, in a moment of mercy
gave him – tears.”

Tears by Lucian Blaga



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