When the lamp light breaks under the frost,
the sky leans on the top of a haystack.
The village floats.
The nipples of the blossoms jerk.
Spring is near,
the white horse can feel it…
At the end of the road above the world,
you need no flute,
the sheep are grazing
on the path like a string.
The church plugged into the middle of the village
Smells of heaven,
And the Holy Virgin drinks wild fruit tea…
English Translation by Zorin Diaconescu