ALTHOUGH THE WORLD...
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DE-OR TRECE ANII...
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Although the world would call me free Each year the more her slave am I, For in her very way to be There's I don't know what, I don't know why. Already from the day we met Was my freedom mortal shot? She's but a girl as they, and yet There's something more, I don't know what. No matter what we speak, or do, The moments in sweet silence fly, For somehow there is music too When she is mute, I don't Imow why. So likely to my dying day To follow her will be my lot, For in her sweet and candid way There's I don't know why, I don't know what. Translated by Corneliu M. Popescu |
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De-or trece anii cum trecura, Ea tot mai mult īmi va place, Pentru ca-n toat-a ei faptura E-un "nu stiu cum" s-un "nu stiu ce". M-a fermecat cu vreo scānteie Din clipa-n care ne vazum ? Desi nu e decāt femeie, E totusi altfel, "nu stiu cum". De-aceea una-mi este mie De ar vorbi, de ar tace; Dac-al ei glas e armonie, E si-n tacere-i "nu stiu ce". Astfel robit de-aceeasi jale Petrec mereu acelasi drum... In taina farmecelor sale E-un "nu stiu ce" s-un "nu stiu cum". 1883, dec. Mihail Eminescu |
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