Amurg de iarna

Winter Dusk – by George Bacovia

Sombre and metallic, dusk in winter,
The white plain – vast and round –
A raven comes rowing from the background,
Cutting the skyline at the diameter.

Occasional trees like crystal in their snow.
Longings for disappearance sip at me,
While the same raven goes back silently,
Cutting the skyline at the diameter.

Translation from : http://www.aboutromania.com/bacovia20.html

Amurg de iarna, sumbru, de metal,
Campia alba – un imens rotund –
Vaslind, un corb incet vine din fund,
Taind orizontul, diametral.

Copacii rari si ninsi par de cristal.
Chemari de disparitie ma sorb,
Pe cand, tacut, se-ntoarce-acelasi corb,
Taind orizontul, diametral.

Rugaciune

Craiasa alegandu-te,

Ingenunchiem rugandu-te,

Inalta-ne, ne mantuie

Din valul ce ne bantuie;

Fii scut de intarire

Si zid de mantuire,

Privirea-ti adorata

Asupra-ne coboara,

O, Maica prea curata

Si pururea fecioara,

Marie!

 

 

Noi, ce din mila sfantului

Umbra facem pamantului,

Rugamu-ne-ndurarilor

Luceafarului marilor;

Asculta-a noastre plangeri,

Regina peste ingeri,

Din neguri te arata,

Lumina dulce, clara,

O, Maica prea curata

Si pururea fecioara,

Marie!

 

Mihai Eminescu

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Eminescu

unforgettable

Years have trailed past…

Years have trailed past like clouds over a country,
And they’ll never return, for they’re gone forever,
And I no longer enjoy such light endeavour
As the magic of folk songs or the land of faery

Which as a child filled me with wonder,
Not quite understood yet meaning so much to me,
And now these shadows try to recapture me
In this hour of mystery, this twilight hour.

These trembling fingers touch the strings in vain
To find the right notes from the fading memory
Of youth, so that my soul can vibrate again.

Everything’s disappeared from the horizon of that distant plain
And you can no longer hear the voice of past harmony.
Behind me time gathers . . . and I darken!

Trecut-au anii…

Trecut-au anii ca nori lungi pe sesuri
Si niciodata n-or sa vie iara,
Caci nu ma-ncanta azi cum ma miscara
Povesti si doine, ghicitori, eresuri,

Ce fruntea-mi de copil o-nseninara,
Abia-ntelese, pline de-ntelesuri –
Cu-a tale umbre azi in van ma-mpesuri,
O, ceas al tainei, asfintit de sara.

Sa smulg un sunet din trecutul vietii,
Sa fac, o, suflet, ca din nou sa tremuri
Cu mana mea in van pe lira lunec;

Pierdut e totu-n zarea tineretii
Si muta-i gura dulce-a altor vremuri,
Iar timpul creste-n urma mea… ma-ntunec!

A Dacian’s Prayer

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When death did not exist, nor yet eternity,
Before the seed of life had first set living free,
When yesterday was nothing, and time had not begun,
And one included all things, and all was less than one,
When sun and moon and sky, the stars, the spinning earth
Were still part of the things that had not come to birth,
And You quite lonely stood… I ask myself with awe,
Who is this mighty God we bow ourselves before.

Ere yet the Gods existed already He was God
And out of endless water with fire the lightning shed;
He gave the Gods their reson, and joy to earth did bring,
He brought to man forgiveness, and set salvation’s spring
Lift up your hearts in worship, a song of praise enfreeing,
He is the death of dying, the primal birth of being.

To him I owe my eyes that I can see the dawn,
To him I owe my heart wherein is pity born;
Whene’er I hear the tempest, I hear him pass along
Midst multitude of voices raised in a holy song;
And yet of his great mercy I beg still one behest:
That I at last be taken to his eternal rest.

Be curses on the fellow who would my praise acclaim,
But blessings upon him who does my soul defame;
Believe no matter whom who slanders my renown,
Give power to the arm that lifts to strike me down;
Let him upon the earth above all others loom
Who steals away the stone that lies upon my tomb.

Hunted by humanity, let me my whole life fly
Until I feel from weeping my very eyes are dry;
Let everyone detest me no matter where I go,
Until from persecution myself I do not know;
Let misery and horror my heart transform to stone,
That I may hate my mother, in whose love I have grown;
Till hating and deceiving for me with love will vie,
And I forget my suffering, and learn at last to die.

Dishonoured let me perish, an outcast among men;
My body less than worthy to block the gutter then,
And may, o God of mercy, a crown of diamonds wear
The one who gives my heart the hungry dogs to tear,
While for the one who in my face does callous fling a clod
In your eternal kingdom reserve a place, o God.

Thus only, gracious Father, can I requitance give
That you from your great bounty vouched me the joy to live;
To gain eternal blessings my head I do not bow,
But rather ask that you in hating compassion show.
Till comes at last the evening, your breath will mine efface,
And into endless nothing I go, and leave no trace.

By Mihai Eminescu

(1879, Translated by Corneliu M. Popescu)

Desire

Desire

Come now to the forest’s spring
Running wrinkling over the stones,
To where lush and grassy furrows
Hide away in curving boughs.

Then you can run to my open arms,
Be held once more in my embrace,
I’ll gently lift that veil of yours
To gaze again upon your face.

And then you can sit upon my knee,
We’ll be all alone, alone there,
While the lime tree thrilled with rapture
Showers blossoms on your hair.

Your white brow with those golden curls
Will slowly draw near to be kissed,
Yielding as prey to my greedy mouth
Those sweet, red, cherry lips . . .

We’ll dream only happy dreams
Echoed by wind’s song in the trees,
The murmur of the lonely spring,
The caressing touch of the gentle breeze.

And drowsy with this harmony
Of a forest bowed deep as in prayer,
Lime-tree petals that hang above us
Will fall sifting higher and higher.

Mihai Eminescu

Spring harbingers

Spring harbingers

From sunny countries and skies blue
From which last automn-tide you flew,
Return, dear birds, where you belong,
Most welcome, you!
The woods, bereft of leaf and song,
Weep for they have missed you too long.

In the eternal dome of azure
Did you not dream with longside pleasure
Of what you left? Did you not sigh
For dear Home’s leisure?
Or cry when seeing in the sky
The clouds that northwardly did hie?

You sang to Nature paeans fraught
With holiness, strangers you taught
Our soulful doinas when, at times,
Of us you thought.
But did you tell them that their rhymes
Excle all those of other climes?

Now you come home – and you will see,
Again, the wood, the field, the lea,
Your nests in groves, so warm and deep;
‘Tis summer, verily.
I feel I have a mind to leap,
To laugh for joy, for joy to weep!

You come accompanied by flowers,
By gentle winds and sun-warmed showers,
And nights so rife with honey-dew,
And cheerful hours.
You thus take everything with you,
And bring back everything anew.

George Cosbuc