Ȋnger

Ana stӑ afarӑ, azi, in zi de varӑ si se roagӑ iarӑ:

“Stii ce greu mi-a fost? Mӑ simt asa prost…parcӑ-s un nimic.

Cât sӑ mai rezist si sӑ mai asist la greseala mea repetat-asa?

Simt cӑ nu mai pot, fӑ-mӑ sӑ uit tot!”

“Mӑi, Anuta,draga mea, uitarea nu e a ta!

Vreau sӑ-ţi amintesti, sӑ nu mai gresesti,sӑ nu te rӑnesti.

Reusesti orice,ai incedere!

Oricat e de greu, te-nconjor mereu!”

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