Generally speaking, it can be said that Aurelian Zisu writes a twilight poem, which has its roots in the area of eminence "sunsets of ideas"; in fact, the whole volume represents a form of awareness of one's own existence, a poetic Last Judgment (which the lyrical self projects for itself in seventy-five nights (numbered with Roman numerals even though each one has its own title), interrupted by intermezzos that are suggestively called From the musings of poor Moses. My nights, nights... is a volume that integrates a personal micro-epic that has as its main hero its own I have reached a moment of existential turning point in which life is no longer life, death is no longer death and poetry is no longer just poetry, it is a cry in the desert, it is lonely blood, it is disillusioned pain, it is, in the end, healing of despair. Petrișor Militaru
