When I walk through the russet park On a carpet of dying leafs And come upon a deserted bench Sprinkled with dew drops and rotting at the edges, That’s when I think of you. * When it’s raining on the streets And raindrops die upon the pavement And I splash through muddy pools alongside strangers, … Continue reading You In My Thoughts
I want to write to you, But the right words won’t come to me. It’s a restlessness inside, A burning without smoke, A flood uphill, A strife against the void, This urge to write to you. But words, the right words, won’t come to me. * I must write to you, I feel I must, … Continue reading The Right Words
Sunday I forsook the warm comfort of my attic and, dragging my weary body after me, ventured into Bucharest's biggest park, Herastrau, which unfolds around the lake with the same name. It was a cold, clouded day, so there were scarcely any people around. Anyway, I'm far too shy and awkward to photograph people. Do … Continue reading Herastrau Park
boy with a hat 