the shadow of music
the blackbird doesn’t kiss
the night
the blackbird kisses always
the air
that becomes music
the blackbird turns to
a shadow
a shadow travelling
the night
a shadow of
a sound
nothing moves
not the water
not the air
not a thought
rising high & deep
only a fine sound
you hear
you see
you taste
rising from the shadows
the yellow beak
the wondrous beak
bringing your breath
to a halt
the blackbird sings again
it is
spring
(tunari,
april 2026)
your lips were waiting
for too long for me
they were the tears hidden
in your brown shining
eyes
in the black locks of your
hair
bereft of the one joy
that makes a life
worth living
your lips
were the breeze over
lake ohrid
upon fish
that made the roses bloom in
the freezing winter
your lips were waiting
for too long for my lips
to seal a
vow
they were wandering on a
gust of wind
avoiding to exist
abandoning life
fleeing from
a kiss
that brings about
the storm of
your soul
that brings about
the tempest of
your heart
love
your lips were waiting
for too long to burn
with desire
your lips were waiting
for too long to see
that the my soul was
yours
(korçë, albania, 2nd of june ’26)
the
deed of silence
how
can silence
absolute silence
be carved into the sounds
of music
stone-still
sparkling
sounds
how
can the sounds paint
silence
make silence clinch to
our soul
beyond any feeling
and
I listen to the wondrous
sounds
rising
from the trumpet
an action that
defies space
air that moves
a feeling
sounds
that should awaken the mind
and
silence sinks into
the night
as a mystery with
no body
holding everything in
its grip
just a poised look
eyes encompassing
space
and the hand gliding on
sounds
dance
(deutsche
kneipe, bucharest, 3rd of april 26)
the night
the blackbird kisses always
the air
that becomes music
a shadow
a shadow travelling
the night
a shadow of
a sound
not the water
not the air
not a thought
only a fine sound
you hear
you see
you taste
the yellow beak
the wondrous beak
bringing your breath
to a halt
for too long for me
in your brown shining
eyes
in the black locks of your
hair
bereft of the one joy
that makes a life
worth living
your lips
were the breeze over
lake ohrid
upon fish
that made the roses bloom in
the freezing winter
for too long for my lips
to seal a
vow
they were wandering on a
gust of wind
avoiding to exist
abandoning life
fleeing from
a kiss
that brings about
the storm of
your soul
that brings about
the tempest of
your heart
for too long to burn
with desire
for too long to see
that the my soul was
absolute silence
be carved into the sounds
of music
sparkling
sounds
silence
make silence clinch to
our soul
beyond any feeling
sounds
rising
from the trumpet
defies space
a feeling
that should awaken the mind
the night
as a mystery with
no body
holding everything in
its grip
just a poised look
eyes encompassing
space
and the hand gliding on
sounds
*Peter Sragher (b.1960) in Bucharest, Romania. Studied German & English at the Bucharest University. President of the Bucharest department-literary translations, the council & the board of the Romanian Writers’ Union (fitralit of rwu), member of the grazer autorinnen- und autorenversammlung – Austria. Managing editor of “revista de traduceri literare” (the review of literary translations) online, monthly. Organizer: colloquia of literary translations, about the status of the literary translation. Poetry collections: 11 poetry collections among which: “akropolis urcarea / ακρoπόλεις άνοδοι”, translation by Angela Bratsou & Stavros Deligiorgis, bilingual edition in Romanian & Greek, Vakxikon, Athens, 2019 and “doamne, de ce m-ai făcut / ἵνα τι ἔπλασας με, κύριε”, translation by Antzela Bratsou & Stavros Deligiorgis, bilingual edition in Romanian & Greek, Vakxikon, Athens, 2022. Prose: “cartea lui david (the book of david)”, short stories in Romanian, with watercolours by David-Thomas Sragher, Brumar, Timișoara, 2017. Translations: 10 literary books, also contemporary austrian poets: bernhard widder, ernst david, bruno weinhals etc. Festivals: in his country and abroad. Photo exhibition: living wood, broken wood, dead dead wood in prater & lobau – Austria, Bucharest (2007).