agonia
english

v3
 

Agonia.Net | Policy | Mission Contact | Participate
poezii poezii poezii poezii poezii
poezii
armana Poezii, Poezie deutsch Poezii, Poezie english Poezii, Poezie espanol Poezii, Poezie francais Poezii, Poezie italiano Poezii, Poezie japanese Poezii, Poezie portugues Poezii, Poezie romana Poezii, Poezie russkaia Poezii, Poezie

Article Communities Contest Essay Multimedia Personals Poetry Press Prose _QUOTE Screenplay Special

Poezii Romnesti - Romanian Poetry

poezii


 
Texts by the same author


Translations of this text
0

 Members comments


print e-mail
Views: 3298 .



Wistfulness
prose [ ]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
by [Geisha ]

2004-04-18  |     | 



The dazzling light was getting through the window in my compartment. I could bearly keep my eyes open; the heat, the wriggling of the train running on the steel rails, some whispered words heard from time to time, gave ma a mood of both euphoric consciousness and annoying lack of occupation. I was sitting by the window; yet my glance did not fall upon the picture that was rewinding beyond it, so fast that if I looked thither I could scarcely distinguish some trees scattered on a deserted field and the blue sky. It was an image that was not worth my attention.
In the compartment, there were three persons traveling along with me: an old man and an old woman, probably husband and wife, and a young gentleman sitting next to me. He was reading something and was so absorbed by the book that I could observe him closely without being seen: fine hands hiding the strength of a tiger when needed despite the gentleness and grace in holding the book, the chest a bit suntanned in contrast with the white shirt which had two buttons undone, the face that was to make a more astonishing impression. Under the mutinous black hair, there was the profile of a serene forehead that buried two blue eyes. There was no feature of his face expressing more faithfully the felicity or the sorrow of his soul than his smile. There was something ineffable in it that enchanted me so much that I should have dreaded its power. Or so I thought then because during the ten minutes in which I kept looking at his face, I didn’t see him smile not just once.
Then, it occurred me the thought that I knew that charming gentleman but where from, I didn’t dare to ask myself. I had a strange feeling of déjà-vu.
Suddenly, some noises on the corridor awakened me from the wistfulness: the crowded train bore no people nor luggage and yet they were thronging for a seat. I turned my head and avoided another look at the gentleman fearing I would drown myself again in that exulting mood. I fastened my glance to the window and was overwhelmed to see a different picture than the first one: the dazzling light which meanwhile had turned into reddish sparkles was now flooding a violet sky with no trace of cloud: it was the sunset…

.  |








 
shim Home of Literature, Poetry and Culture. Write and enjoy articles, essays, prose, classic poetry and contests. shim
shim
poezii  Search  Agonia.Net  

Reproduction of any materials without our permission is strictly prohibited.
Copyright 1999-2003. Agonia.Net

E-mail | Privacy and publication policy

Top Site-uri Cultura - Join the Cultural Topsites!