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

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THE TALE OF THE FOREST		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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