Everyone brought his stones
some built pyramids in the middle one the table
with a dark and sharp tip
like a star on a uncertain throne
others set the to the right of the table silver
and rested their palms tired from digging
unanswered questions and tiresome answers
some left them in their pockets not knowing
how visible they hang with faltering words
about those who placed them directly into the spoon
and then chewed them with their teeth and swallowed
with blood o them proving
there’s nothing to be said
Neither those who engraved silence
with perceptive tools and
berried them at the foot of the table
before the guests arrived for supper
Only one has hidden them in his pocket with silver
knowing that will become true
and then sat down and called death
English Translation by Zorin Diaconescu