I stand in the place of a paving stone,
I came here
by a regrettable confusion.

They passed over me
Small cars,
Trucks, Tanks
And all kinds of feet.

I felt the sun until the sunset
and the moon
Around midnight.

Clouds press me with their shadow
of heavy and important Events,
I made corns.

And although I wear
With enough stoicism
My fate of granite,
Sometimes I find myself screaming:
"Walk only on the carriageway of My Soul,
Barbarians! "

by Marin Sorescu