The turtle [Broasca ţestoasă]

You cannot see its head or legs too well
It's like a stone... But if you let it be,
Puts out its snout from under the big shell
And slowly starts to walk towards the sea...
How many clothes, some short and others long,
Opaque or gauzy, hideous or fair,
Did Nature have to put on with much care
In its unending journey, all along!
For groping to discover the best frame
From an amoeba to a bug, I claim,
Got lost in speculation and debate.
And what a winding road took to get here,
Until has been so ready to create
This gentle form and image of my dear!

poezie de George Topîrceanu, traducere de Octavian Cocoş
Adăugat de anonim
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