Out of bed,
Memory gate locks,
Games senses
Small salamanders fugitive
In the middle
A wild grass fire.
Pupils reflect
Disorder and adventure,
I have a plane to head
In a weird cloud,
Who is afraid to return
In the country.

Beautify my memory,

On the way to a suspended gardens,
The hours of sunshine,
The best places
Micuţele salamanders somnolează,

Nestled in the red herbs
Wild.