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English language
THE TALE OF THE FOREST
Limba Romana
POVESTEA CODRULUI
Mighty emperor is the forest,
High dominion does he wield,
And a thousand races prosper
'Neath the shelter of his shield.

The moon, the sun and Lucifer
Do round his kingdom ever sphere,
While lords and ladies of his court
Are of the noble race of deer.

Hares, his heralds and his postmen,
Carry rapidly his mails;
Birds his orchestra composing
Springs that tell him thousand tales.

Midst the flowers that grow in shadow.
By the streams and in the grass,
Bees in golden clouds are swarming,
Ants in mighty armies pass...

Come, let us again be children
In the woods we loved of yore
So that life, and luck, and loving
Seem a game and nothing more.

For I feel that mother nature
All her wisdom did employ
But to raise you over living
And of life to make your toy.

You and I away shall wander
Quite alone where no one goes,
And we'll lie beside the water
Where the flowering lime-tree grows.

As we slumber, on our bodies
Will the lime its petals lay,
While in sleep, sweet distant bagpipes
We will hear some shepherd play.

Hear so much and closer clinging,
Heart to heart in lovers' wise,
Hear the emperor call his council
And his ministers advise.

Through the silver spreading branches
Will the moon the stream enlace,
And around us slowly gather
Courtiers of many a race.

Horses proud, as white as wave crests,
Many-branching horned stags,
Bulls with stars upon their foreheads,
Chamois from the mountain crags.

And the lime-tree they will question
Who we are; and stand and wonder,
While our host will softly answer
Parting wide his boughs asunder:

"Look, o look how they are dreaming
Dreams that in the forest grow;
Like the children of some legend
Do they love each other so".

Translated by

Corneliu M. Popescu
Imparat slavit de codrul,
Neamuri mii ei cresc sub poale,
Toate inflorind din mila
Codrului, Mariei Sale.

Luna, Soare si Luceferi
El le poarta 'n a lui herb,
Impregiuru-I are dame
Si curteni din neamul cerb.

Crainici, iepurii cei repezi,
Purtatori ei sunt de vesti,
Filomele-I tin orchestrul
Si izvoare spun povesti.

Peste flori, ce cresc in umbra,
Langa ape, pe poteci,
Vezi bejanii de albine,
Armii grele de furnici.

Hai si noi la craiul, draga,
Si sa fim din nou copii,
Ca norocul si iubirea
Sa ne para jucarii.

Mi'a pare cum ca natura
Toata mintea ei si-a pus,
De cat ori si ce papusa
Sa te faca mai presus.

Amandoi vom merge 'n lume
Rataciti si singurei,
Ne-om culca langa izvorul
Ce rasare sub un tei.

Adormi-vom, troeni-va
Teiul floarea-I peste noi,
Si prin somn auzi-vom bucium
De la stanele de oi.

Mai aproape, mai aproape
Noi ne-om stringe piept la piept...
O auzi, cum chiam' acuma
Craiul sfatu-i intelept!

Peste albele izvoare
Luna bate printre ramuri,
Impreju-ne s'aduna
Ale Curtii mandre neamuri:

Caii marii, albi ca spuma,
Bouri nalti cu steme 'n frunte,
Cerbi cu coarne ramuroase,
Ciute sprintene de munte,

Si pe teiul nostru 'ntreaba,
Cine suntem? stau la sfaturi;
Eara gazda noastra zice
Dandu-si ramurile 'n laturi:

O priviti-i, cum viseaza
Visul codrului de fagi,
Amandoi ca 'ntro poveste...
Ei isi sunt asa de dragii!

1878, 1 martie

Mihail Eminescu
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