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English language
Limba Romana
You go, and years of pain untold,
O being that I dearly love,
My eyes will nevermore behold
The way you smile, the way you move.

And it is not as legend kind,
This love of mine torn by despair,
A demon does your soul confine
Sweet maid with face as marble fair.

Your forehead's pale enchanted spell,
Your eyes that sparkling brilliance store,
So humid, yet so fierce and fell,
That mischief gleam and yet implore.

I tremble when I feel you near,
I start when e'er I hear your stride,
And to your curving eyelash, dear,
My whole existence has been tied.

You go, nor do I greatly care
The ending of our yesterday,
For was there aught but torment there,
And suffering without allay?

No more your breath will softly chide
My ears with sweet and tender thrall;
Nor o'er my brow your fingers glide
Until I loose my senses all.

I could have coined in my mind
Defamatory names to dub you,
And I was fiercely hating you,
And cursing you, because I love you.

For now even that has passed away,
I have naught but my souvenirs;
Tomorrow will be as today,
And as tomorrow all the years.

Fair autumn still its breeze delays
Upon the springs that wail and sigh,
And through the leaves the whisper strays
Of my sad dreams that now must die.

My life a madness seems to be,
Ere it began was it dispelled;
In all this black eternity,
Your beauty scarce one moment held.

Since then my happiness has flown,
My luck for evermore has set.
Give back that moment's joy I've known,
With all its years of long regret.

Translated by

Corneliu M. Popescu
Te duci si ani de suferinta
N-or sa te vaza ochi-mi tristi,
Inamorati de-a ta fiinta,
De cum zambesti, de cum te misti.

Si nu e bland ca o poveste
Amorul meu cel dureros,
Un demon sufletul tau este
Cu chip de marmura frumos.

In fata farmecul palorii
Si ochi ce scanteie de vii
Sunt umezi infioratorii
De lingusiri, de viclenii.

Cand ma atingi eu ma cutremur,
Tresar la pasul tau cand treci,
De-al genei tale gingas tremur
Atarna viata mea de veci.

Te duci si rau n-o sa-mi mai para
De-acum de ziua cea de ieri,
Ca nu am fost victima iara
Neanduratelor dureri.

C-auzu-mi n-o sa-l mai intuneci
Cu-a gurii dulci suflari fierbinti.
Pe frunte-mi mana n-o s-o luneci
Ca sa ma faci sa-mi ies din minti.

Puteam numiri defaimatoare
In gandul meu sa-ti iscodesc,
Si te uram cu-nversunare,
Te blestemam, caci te iubesc.

De-acum nici asta nu-mi ramane
Si n-o sa am ce blestema,
Ca azi va fi ziua de maine,
Ca mani toti anii s-or urma -

O toamna care intarzie
Pe-un istovit si trist izvor;
Deasupra-i frunzele pustie -
A mele visuri care mor.

Viata-mi pare-o nebunie
Sfarsita far-a fi-nceput,
In toata neagra vecinicie
O clipa-n brate te-am tinut.

De-atunci pornind a lui aripe
S-a dus pe veci norocul meu -
Reda-mi comoara unei clipe 
Cu ani de parere de rau!

1883, dec.

Mihail Eminescu
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