An Amoeba - Marin Sorescu

"What are you at?"
One fine day
The Moon asked the Earth.

For millions of years
She had watched him toil,
Moving the seas from one continent
To another,
Experimenting upon ices and volcanoes
And daily wrecking whole heaps of mountains.
"What are you at?"
She repeated.

Then the Moon knitted her brows,
Pretended to understand
The mystery of creation and of life,
And sailed on thinking,
"Oh, men's trifles."

Carnival - Marin Sorescu

Let us exchange thoughts,
Tree, for I don't even know your name.
And with your thoughts
Give me all your leaves
To lay on my hands,
And on my eyes, and on my brow.

In the end
There will be a beautiful
Farewell carnival
And everybody will wear
Their festive masks.
I myself want to appear disguised simply
As a green tree.