Clubs of Council of Europe

Immortality
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Reserve me a century, only for me
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In our body even the nephews are sober
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On my eyes are burning days of past centuries
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The bells beat inside me –
A sign that I will live long
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If I was a thunderstorm, it would be enough:
As long it produces light I am alive

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In a shape of a thunderstorm
Write me with my poem
If it comes back in a century

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Society mixed up in a great confusion
The year of my success is already fully stocked

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My name is not vacant since today

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Even in backstage I remained sylph

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Immortality – the face of the noon, blond as a crop

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I think my morning will come too

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No mirror will show you the future

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In the world of Renata Verejanu

Sayings and thinkings