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English language
Limba Romana
"You ride the clouds and range the sky
Your net about the stars cast;
But do remember dear at last
My soul can never soar so high.

You build tall palaces in Spain
Of fancy's fragile masonry,
You search in vain the sullen sea
And roam Assyria's plains in vain.

The pyramids their summits press
Against the clouded heavens high,
Dear heart, it is not wise to fly
Too far a field for happiness ! "

`Twas thus she spoke in whispers low,
Her hand laid softly on my head,
But I just laughed and nothing said,
Yet what she told was truth, I mow.

"Come where cool crystal brooks complain
Their fleeting fate midst forest greens,
And where the hanging cliff out leans
As though to thunder on the plain.

And somewhere, up some little glade,
To gather raspberries we will climb,
Or sit and watch the sky sublime
From neath the rushes' tasselled shade.

While many a story you will tell,
And many a lie you'll whisper too;
But I will read on petals true
You love me not, you love me well.

As rosy as an apple's rind
Will be my cheeks burnt by the sun,
And my long golden hair undone
Around your neck in coils you'll wind.

While if your lips on mine should burn
No one in all the world will know,
My hat is broad... and even so,
`Twere only your and my concern.

And when the moon comes shining through
The gap where tangled branches part,
You'll hold me very close, dear heart,
And I will clasp my arms round you.

And when we walk the twilight gloom
Of forest paths that homeward run,
We'll gather many a kiss, each one
As fragrant as the violets' bloom.

And long amid the starlight glow
We'll stand to talk outside my gate,
For no one comes that way so late,
And who should care I love you so?

Another kiss and she was gone;
Like post I stood in the moon's stream
O beautiful beyond a dream,
O small blue flower all my own !


Alas our love that grew so fair
Has flown and faded from that hour,
O my blue flower, my blue flower ! . . .
The world is sorrow everywhere.

Translated by

Corneliu M. Popescu
- "Iar te-ai cufundat în stele
Si în nori si-n ceruri nalte ?
De nu m-ai uita incalte
Sufletul vietii mele.

In zadar rauri în soare
Gramadesti-n a ta gandire
Si campiile Asire
Si intunecata mare;

Urca-n cer varful lor mare
Nu cata în departare
Fericirea ta, iubite !"

Astfel zise mititica,
Dulce netezandu-mi parul.
Ah ! ce spuse adevarul;
Eu am ras, n-am zis nimica.

- "Hai la codrul cu verdeata,
Und-izvoare plang în vale,
Stanca sta să se pravale
In prapastia mareata.

Acolo-n ochi de padure,
Langa bolta cea senina
Si sub trestia cea lina
Vom sedea în foi de mure.

Si mi-i spune-atunci povesti
Si minciuni cu-a ta gurita,
Eu pe-un fir de romanita
Voi cerca de mă iubesti.

Si de-a soarelui caldura
Voi fi rosie ca marul,
Mi-oi desface de-aur parul,
Să-ti astup cu dansul gura.

De mi-i da o sarutare,
Nime-n lume n-a s-o stie,
Căci va fi sub palarie -
S-apoi cine treaba are !

Când prin crengi s-a fi ivit
Luna-n noaptea cea de vara,
Mi-i tinea de subsuoara,
Te-oi tinea de dupa gat.

Pe cararea-n bolti de frunze,
Apucand spre sat în vale,
Ne-om da sarutari pe cale,
Dulci ca florile ascunse.

Si sosind l-al portii prag,
Vom vorbi-n intunecime;
Grija noastra n-aib-o nime,
Cui ce-i pasa ca-mi esti drag ?"

Inc-o gura - si dispare...
Ca un stalp eu stau în luna !
Ce frumoasa, ce nebuna
E albastra-mi, dulce floare !


Si te-ai dus, dulce minune,
Si-a murit iubirea noastra -
Floare-albastra ! floare-albastra !...
Totusi este trist în lume !

1873, 1 aprilie

Mihail Eminescu
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