Cântecul atlasului

Cât nisip si câta iarba
Si câti tepi la brazi în barba
Cântece de drum am auzit
Calul, trenul si planorul,
Bicicleta si vaporul,
Toate loc în cântec si-au gasit.
Numai dragul meu, atlasul
Care poarta singur pasul
Peste-ntinderi fara de hotar,
N-are nici o melodie,
Nici un cânt de drumetie,
Nici o nota n-a vazut macar.
Si pentru ca asa nu se mai poate,
Am sa-i fac atlasului dreptate.
Bun ramas, prieteni, bun ramas!
Dintr-un creion îmi fac toiag de drumetie
Si plaec în lumea larga pe atlas
Si ma opresc oriunde-mi place mie.
Bun ramas, prieteni, bun ramas!
Si daca nu va scriu nimica din Sahara
Sa stiti ca-n clipa când facui popas,
Arsita mi-a uscat si calimara.
Din Constanta-n Argentina
Si de-acolo pâna-n China
Plec si ma opresc în orice port,
Nici un vames nu ma-ntreaba
Daca am, sau nu am treaba
Si nu-mi cere nimeni pasaport.
Fac un pas si trec oceanul
Si din Mexic cu ocheanul
Catre Bucuresti din nou privesc.
Fiindca-s calator cuminte,
Mama mi-a facut placinte
Si ma-napoiez când se racesc.
Si apoi dupa ce manânc placinte,
Iar ma poarta-atlasul înainte.
Bun ramas, prieteni, bun ramas!
Din polul nord, la polul sud fac doar o clipa,
Ecuatoru-l trec cu-un singur pas,
Cât si-ar aprinde-un lup de mare-o pipa.
Bun ramas, prieteni, bun ramas!
Si colindând mereu, mereu în drumetie,
Mergând in lumea larga pe atlas,
Cu-un 10-am sa ma-ntorc la geografie.
The Atlas Song

I heard travel songs
As many as sand grains and as many as grass blades
And as many needles in the pine trees
The horse, the train and the plane,
The bicycle and the boat
All have found their place in a song.
Only my dear atlas
Which alone steps
Over lands without borders,
Has no melody,
No hiking song,
Not one note has seen.
And because this is not fair,
I'll do justice to him right now.
Goodbye friends, farewell!
I'm taking a pencil as hiking pole
And I’m going worldwide on the atlas
And I’ll stop anywhere I like.
Goodbye friends, goodbye!
And if I don’t write anything from Sahara
That’s because as soon as I stopped
The heat dried out my ink pot.
From Constanta to Argentina
And from there up to China
I go and I stop in any port,
No customs officer asks me questions
About my business
And nobody ask for my passport.
With a step I cross the ocean
And from Mexico through looking glass
I look back to my Bucharest again.
And as I’m a nice traveler,
My mother made me pies
And I’ll be back when they’re cool.
So,  after eating the pies,
My atlas takes me forward again.
Goodbye friends, goodbye!
From the North Pole to the South Pole in a blink,
The time an old sailor lights a pipe,
I pass the equator in a single step.
Goodbye friends, goodbye!
And always wandering, always travelling,
The wide world on the atlas,
I’ll end up with a 10 to geography.
With this song I won first prize in a regional competition, but I don't even know its composer.  
My model was a renown radio singer  
Silvia  Chicos whom I tried to imitate, but I transformed  her songs my way.
I kept a voice recording that I have digitally remastered later, with orchestra.