The second Fibonacci bread poem from Bucharest

We wrote this one in Romanian first, so to be quite honest, it sounds better in our own language.



is where

the bread begins.

Hands are printed in it

as in a mysterious steaming fairy-tales book.

Many lives were sacrificed for the earth that this wheat has grown from.

For souls filled with warm aroma, for the energy of young bodies, bread is a gift from the mist of time.

Romanian version



de grâu

e începutul pâinii.

În pâine multe mâini citim,

ca într-o carte de poveşti aburind misterios.

Multe vieţi s-au jertfit pentru pământul din care acest gâu a-ncolţit.

Pentru sufletele noastre îmbălsămate de căldură şi pentru energia trupurilor tinere, pâinea e un dar trimis de strămoşi din negura timpului.


  1. This poem is also a homage to silent collective effort, to the fight for rights. In a certain way, we all are re-doing our own history. Congratulations!

  2. You were right, kids are full of surprises and today, I had a very nice one. We enjoyed writing this.