Games
The beautiful sky came right
out of the watercolors to me,
the land out of the coal,
a lake with reeds,
out of the umbrella,
and the mountains, out of the foaming sea.
The blossoming town stepped out
of my charmed pencil,
the well overflowed
towards the sun,
with a sigh,
out of the beak of a bird.
And our neighbor, the moon,
rose high in the sky.
Son Andreea Claucia, clasa a VII-a
