NOW FAR I AM FROM YOU
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DEPARTE SUNT DE TINE
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Now far I am from you, before my fire alone, And read again the hours that so silently have gone, And it seems that eighty years beneath my feet did glide, That I am old as winter, that maybe you have died. The shadows of the past swift stream across life's floor The tale of all times, nothings that now exist no more; While the wind with clumsy fingers softly fumbles at the blind And sadly spins the fibre of the story in my mind... I see you stand before me in a mist that does enfold, Your eyes are full of tears and your fingers long and cold; About my neck caressing your arms you gently ply And it seems you want to speak to me, yet only sigh. And thus I clasp entranced my all, my world of grace, And both our lives are joined in that supreme embrace. . Oh, let the voice of memory remain for ever dumb, Forget the joy that was, but that nevermore will come, Forget how after an instant you thrust my arms aside, For now I'm old and lonely, and maybe you have died. Translated by Corneliu M. Popescu |
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Departe sunt de tine si singur lângă foc, Petrec în minte viata-mi lipsita de noroc, Optzeci de ani îmi pare în lume c-am trait, Ca sunt batrân ca iarna, ca tu vei fi murit. Aducerile-aminte pe suflet cad în picuri, Redesteptind în fata-mi trecutele nimicuri; Cu degetele-i vintul loveste în feresti, Se-toarce-n gindu-mi firul duioaselor povesti, S-atuncea dinainte-mi prin ceata parca treci, Cu ochii mari în lacrimi, cu mini subtiri si reci; Cu bratele-amindoua de gitul meu te-anini Si parca-ai vrea a-mi spune ceva... apoi suspini... Eu te string la piept averea-mi de-amor si frumuseti, In sarutari unim noi sarmanele vieti... O! glasul amintirii ramiie pururi mut, Să uit pe veci norocul ce-o clipa l-am avut, Să uit cum dup-o clipa din bratele-mi te-ai smuls... Voi fi batrân si singur, vei fi murit de mult! 1878, 1 martie Mihail Eminescu |
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