50 I am your Holy Virgin -- I conceive Your children from your touch of tender wind. I can't evade invasion by your seeds -- I am your shell lost naked in your sea. Your water gushing through my trembling holes, Your sea won't dry in me on your sand shore. I can't stop breathing you -- through flapping doors Your draught wakes up in me your flutes of bones. I am your virgin pregnant with your word, And through my mouth I give your children birth.







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IRENE CĂSAR
Confined Verse
Collected Poems

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