Cristian Simionescu   |   Poetry
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Aerostatic

All-embracing voices freeze in the air,
my eye sees in sleep the cold of the cosmos
just as the unplayed organ feels music inside itself.
Between heart and mind there’s a distance
just as between Sparta and Athens. In a moment
of thoughtlessness, they can be faked or bribed.
More often than not, it was the heart which made the quarrel,
the mind that which made peace
between brothers.




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