Visul
Era marţi şi luna iunie în calendar, cînd mă plimbam alene pe strazile imense ale Parisului, admirînd chiar şi cele mai mici detalii, dar mai cu seama clădirile ce parcă ma priveau mîndre de la înălţime zicîndu-mi:
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Pelegrinul
Am obosit visând o nouă dimineaţă, De prea mult cer sub pleoape privirile mă dor, Şi-n jur, cât vezi cu ochii, pământu-i plin de ape