Taiati-va aurul de pe degete!

Taiati-va aurul de pe degete!
Pasarile n-au aur pe aripi, dar zboara
Noi nu.
Lupii n-au aur pe gheare, dar nu pot trai dupa gratii
Noi da.

Aurul e simbolul iubirii, aurul e acoperirea din banci
O moneda cu care putem cumpara, vinde si justifica.
Doar aici, in lumea nostra bipeda
Aurul e rege.
El vorbeste, el ne inchide sau ne ispiteste,
El in catuse ne leaga,
Este a lui lege.

Acolo ei nici n-au auzit de diamante
Poate ca nu stiu sa rada
Poate ca nu stiu nici sa vorbeasca
Pentru ca Dumnezeu e liber in ei
Sa ii nasca,
Sa ii calauzeasca,
Sa ii adaposteasca,
Sa ii modeleze,
Sa ii hraneasca,
Sa ii distruga,
Sa ii vegheze.

Taiati-va aurul de pe degete!
Taiati-va lanturile din minti!
Voi, sticleti captivi cu aere de superioritate!
Cu pseudo-inteligenta si vanitate.

Aurul stralucitor va minte
Aurul greu va apasa
"Eu, ginerele cu papion
In sfant legamant iti pun aurul pe deget
Iar tu, pana la moarte, imi vei fi mireasa"...

Ei n-au voaluri si baluri
Ei n-au haine si raiuri
Au doar paduri si mari,
Lacuri si zari,
Dimineti si apusuri,
Au Soarele gol
Pe care-l tin cu credinta in iris
Ca pe o candela nestinsa
Pe care noi nici dupa ce-am reinventat-o in biserici
Cu slujbe, cu sfinti si cu o armata de clerici,
N-am reusit sa deprindem
Cum sa o aprindem.

-d-lui F.
19.12.2010

ENGLISH TRANSLATION

Cut off the gold on your fingers!

Cut off the gold on your fingers!
The birds don't wear gold on their wings, but they fly
We don't.
The wolves don't wear gold on their claws, but they can't survive behind bars
We can.

Gold is the symbol of love, it's the coverage in banks,
A coin we can buy, sell and justify with.
Only here, on our biped world
Gold is the king.
He talks, he imprisons or entices us.
In handcuffs he binds us,
It's his overall law.

There they haven't even heard of diamonds
Maybe they can't laugh,
Maybe they can't talk either
Because God lives free in them
To give them birth,
To guide them,
To shelter them,
To mould them,
To destroy them,
To watch over.

Cut off the gold on your fingers!
Cut off the chains in your minds!
You, gold finches with superiority claims,
With pseudo-intelligence and vanity.

The bright gold lies to you,
The heavy gold oppresses you.
"Me, the entended, wearing a bow tie,
In holy matrimony I place the gold on your finger
And you, until death do us part, will be my bride."

They don't wear veils, they don't attend fancy balls,
They don't have clothes and heavens,
They have just forests and seas,
Lakes and horizons,
Mornings and sunsets,
They have the naked Sun
Which they keep with faith in their iris
Like a quenchless candle
That we, not even after making it up,
In church services, with saints and an army of clerics,
Haven't got to learn
How to emblaze it.