When you bent the bars from my windows with the strength of longing to sneak your disheveled head in and kiss me, I found it sweet. Once, you looked at me boldly and I have praised myself to the skies like Mary Poppins hanging on a rough weather umbrella and I was laughing buzzed from the flight and making fun of you who were getting smaller and smaller on the ground, but bigger and bigger inside my heart. When you pointed the finger to the cuckoo clock and it stupidly stood still, I did that too, in adoration. Stop this nonsense and make me your wife, like normal people.
(Translated by Iulia-Teodora Urea / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year II / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)
Versiunea în română a acestui text se poate citi aici, în rubrica Ficţiuni Reale.