.. There are peaks terrified by Vasile Voiculescu There are frightening peaks in our souls,
But nobody climbs them and no one touches them,
Above the clouds, storm and disaster On them the light never goes out … There the sunrise sends the first ray,
Dusk still there his last light, On their forehead the pure light flickers
Faced with the kiss, it never stops. You rarely have a winged eagle
The wanderer reaches heights, but does not fly,
For he is caught deep in the curse of senile arcana,
He stays up there and does not go down.