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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=461778" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Calender Day 9</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The living and the dead<br>They want answers beyond the measures of their time<br>And times easily crash into each other's spaces<br>All knowledge is there waiting to be discovered revealed<br>Poured into half empty hands of the mind and the mind of power<br>Whose credibility rests on the implements of moral codes<br>Inscribed into now malevolent signs of philosophia prima<br>Of the doors closing down<br>Whose vulnerability lies in the whole world of dreams<br>And hopes hopelessly lost on a broken brow</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I fear the world will be really dropped on head<br>The way it drops its subjects once they're too hot to touch</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I once had this little book of colours<br>The leafs are still turning my life<br>Never really let me in<br>My ancestors were there denied as well<br>And I was sad<br>You're too endless for its pages<br>So said the dead<br>You're too tainted for its hues<br>Thus spake the living<br>But the book remained open<br>At each page a Crone touched sage<br>Touched the hand of a virgin maid<br>Forever turning the bread of embrace<br>As yellow as the sunset in the cornfield<br>As green as immaculate trees<br>As red as the ribbons in the plaits<br>Eventually torn in a rainbow wind<br>Where within I spinned<br>All answers by the graveyard<br>Slipping my own mind<br>Slipping my own tongue<br>Both tied in the beg of silence<br>The living were crying<br>The dead were laughing<br>And in every sadness the song of silence<br>Besieged the fortresses and crossed the motes<br>Burning the rivers behind<br>To find a dwelling in the Hypnos sign<br>Resting its smile by the bay sun soil<br>A mosaic placed in the heart of a dream<br>Where Resona smiles a young lip smile<br>My smile resting within<br>From behind the wired<br>Encaged in the monument of time.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">©Miroslava Odalovic</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Miroslava+Odalovic">Miroslava Odalovic</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=461778" data-title="Calender Day 9 de Miroslava Odalovic" data-description="The living and the dead
They want answers beyond the measures of their time
And times easily crash into each other's spaces
All knowledge is there waiting to be discovered revealed
Poured into half empty hands of the mind and the mind of power
Who..."></div>
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