autor: Grigore Vieru

(poveste din bătrâni) Lui Paul Fuego.

Păşeam prin sfânta rourare                                                                                                                                    Pe-al mării ţărmure frăţesc,                                                                                                                                         Mirat că două urme clare                                                                                                                                         Pe ale mele le-nsoţesc

Păşeam în dimineaţa lină                                                                                                                                      Atât, atât de fericit,                                                                                                                                               Părând eu însumi o lumină                                                                                                                                       În universul infinit.

Creştin, am înţeles pe dată                                                                                                                                      Că Cel alăturea păşind                                                                                                                                            Era chiar Domnul ce se-arată                                                                                                                                    Prin semne numai ori în gând.

Pe mare încetă furtuna,                                                                                                                                       Dragi urme mă-nsoţeau ca-n vis,                                                                                                                      Voiam să le sărut întruna                                                                                                                                        Ce pe-al măicuţei mele plâns.

Tristeţea însă ca pe-un laur                                                                                                                                      O am simţit când am văzut                                                                                                                                      Că cele două urme de-aur                                                                                                                                       M-au părăsit, au dispărut.

„Nu-ţi mai sunt drag eu,                                                                                                                                      Domane, oare?!”                                                                                                                                                        L-am întrebat pe Dumnezeu.                                                                                                                                     Şi-am auzit un glas de soare:                                                                                                                                  „Te duc în braţe, fiul meu”.

Cu ţara-mi de trudită pâine                                                                                                                            Păşeşte, Doamne, -alăturea,                                                                                                                                    Iar dacă merită, Stăpâne,                                                                                                                                         Tu ia-o-n braţe şi pe ea.

(Ultima poezie publicată de Grigore Vieru în Literatura şi Arta, 4 septembrie 2008).