The Crane

crane_bird

I was holding an old crane on my shoulder.

Let me caress your wings, I told it,

You have the power to expect us, singing

Without fear of echoes and people.

 

Big tears in its eyes began to

Fall. I am a man, it said, I am…

And I heard nothing but fatigue flying,

Night’s cry, away.

Iosif Caraiman, Cocorul

translated from Romanian by Marcel Rus

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