M. Eminescu - Poesii / Poems - THE MURMUR OF THE FOREST

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THE MURMUR OF THE FOREST		FREAMAT DE CODRU
On the pond bright sparks are falling, Wavelets in the sunlight glisten; Gazing on the woods with rapture, Do I let my spirit capture Drowsiness, and lie and listen... Quails are calling. All the silent water sleeping Of the streams and of the rivers; Only where the sun is shining Thousand circles there designing As with fright its surface shivers, Swiftly leaping. Pipe the birds midst woods concealing, Which of us their language guessing? Birds of endless kinds and races Chirp amidst its leafy places And what wisdom they expressing And what feeling. Asks the cuckoo: "Who has seen Our beloved summer idol, Beautiful beyond all praising Through her languid lashes gazing, Our most lovely, tender, bridal, Forest queen?" Bends the lime with gentle care Her sweet body to embower; In the breeze his branches singing Lift her in their arms upswinging, While a hundred blossoms shower On her hair. Asks the brooklet as it flows "Where has gone my lovely lady? She, who evening hour beguiling, In my silver surface smiling, Broke its mirror deep and shady With her toes?" I replied: "O forest, she Comes no more, no more returning ! Only you, great oaks, still dreaming Violet eyes, like flowers gleaming, That the summer through were yearning Just for me." Happy then, alone we twain, Through the forest brush-wood striding ! Sweet enchanted tale of wonder That the darkness broke asunder... Dear wherever you'd be hiding, Come again ! Translated by Corneliu M. Popescu		Tresarind scinteie lacul Si se leagana sub soare; Eu, privindu-l din padure, Las aleanul sa ma fure Si ascult de la racoare Pitpalacul. Din isvoare si din girle Ape suna somnoroasa; Unde soarele patrunde Printe ramuri a ei unde, Ea in valuri sperioase Se azvirle. Cucul cinta, mierle, presuri- Cine stie sa le-asculte? Ale pasarilor neamuri Ciripesc pitite-n ramuri Si vorbesc cu-atit de multe Intelesuri. Cucu-ntreaba:-"Unde-i sora Viselor noastre de vara? Mladioasa si iubita, Cu privirea ostenita, Ca o zina sa rasara Tuturora". Teiul vechi un ram intins-a, Ea sa poata sa-l indoaie, Ramul tinar vint sa-si deie Si de brate-n sus s-o ieie, Iara florile sa ploaie Peste dinsa. Se intreaba trist isvorul: -"Unde mi-i craiasa oare? Parul moale despletindu-si, Fata-n apa mea prividu-si, Sa m-atinga visatoare Cu piciorul?" Am raspuns:-"Padure draga, Ea nu vine, nu mai vine! Singuri, voi, stejari, ramineti De visati la ochii vineti, Ce lucira pentru mine Vara-ntreaga". Ce frumos era in cringuri, Cind cu ea m-am prins tovaras! O poveste incintata Care azi e-ntunecata... De-unde esti revino iarasi, Sa fim singuri! 1879, 1 oct. (Transpusa in format electronic: Adrian Ditu) Mihail Eminescu
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