Things of Life

Travel long and wide, Wishing for snow... As if white flakes Will make it glow. Trees are witnesses Of my return; Road seems endless, Soul not forlorn. I don't run from life-- There is no way; But to embrace it Hard and strong.

     Who would have thought...? In a day when nothing seemed out of the ordinary... To slip through a hole like Alice in Wonderland... But for me it was no Wonderland, but a dark world where people suffer, cannot do normal activities, they are in pain and cry for help, where disease and death are looming. I mean... I vicariously knew how hard it was for sick people to deal with life, but I got more than ever to feel it myself, to have it... to know it first hand...      A simple accident while showering, overzealously polishing my heel. A sharp pain on the side, then loss of ability to move. Excruciating pain, and crawling like a creature of the earth. A few hours like that, then hardly moving. A muscle strain. Rest, ice, oils helped. Better everyday, then coming back home through the same hole... Running like a deer again.      Happy as if life it's not simply granted, but it's a miracle...

     It was one of those days when I was sad, very sad. I do not precisely remember what made me so sad, but since I was in my youth years, it had something to do, most likely, with my love life-- during that time it seemed like that was my entire focus.      I just wanted some solitude, and contemplated walking to the nearby river to spent some time there. As a young woman, I constantly felt the pressure of not being alone in remote locations, so going by myself in that area of the countryside was exactly something that nobody around wound encourage me to do. Although generally vigilent, on that occasion I decided to defy general wisdom, and listen to my own voice. Being by the river in those moments would have fulfilled me. I had came to understand that a simple act of meditation about something, rather than ignorance of it, may ease a possible burden, or may open doors to something new and rejuvenating.      Now that I'm thinking, I try to...

Iarna, pe geam mă uit  Și văd un plânset surd-- Nu ca ale verii torente... Nu am mai plâns demult, Si parca as vrea lacrimi  Sa ude gradina din suflet... Ieșite dintr-un dor imens, Venite din adâncuri Pentru toți și toate... Nu am mai plâns demult...

     There were some shepherds in Transylvania and year after year at springtime they would take their flocks up to the mountains, just to come down in the fall. For months they would dwell in a shabby cabin near the peak of the mountain, with their cheeks blushing by the evening fire, and getting rough in the winds.      They would fight the bears, the wolves, and endure the rain under their heavy fur coats from rams. They would rest in the forest under the evergreens near a spring, after they galloped a fat chunk of cheese.When they felt like it, they played their wooden pipe...      When Little Forest was born and was growing up, their songs and stories were brought to her like sheep in a fold. The animals would sleep in her pen like fluffy clouds on a blue sky. She would go and awake them and run with them on the grass...      As Little Forest followed her path, one day she gathered all her sheep and went close to the ocean...