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Latest poems, page 10

George Topîrceanu

Enigma of the closed books [Enigma cărţilor închise]

Immaculate fair pages written by hands on which the humble time has placed
Its everlasting emblems with much haste!
O, thoughts withered in closed books
O, cold deeps opened in paradises with good looks
O, written dreams flowing like brooks!
There are mournful books whose mystic thrills
As light as quills
Garland any dumb disaster
With horizons blue or pale like alabaster,
Inoculating deeply the nightly statues with gestures mirrored
By the lakes full of mystery
And tranquility.
There are books in mourning
Full of tanned longing,
There are books whose chants full of gloom
Wake up and stir the pangs in the royal tomb...
When the doleful rhythm of the ballads without sound
Resurrects, vibrates, contemplates and falls to the ground
Or in the waterfalls around
The pale dreams will retire in nooks.

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George Coşbuc

The rocks shout Amen [Stâncile strigă Amin]

Lean and tormented, old, bent to the ground,
Like pilgrims scoured Beda all around.
And passed through many countries, many lands,
To spread religion and the God's commands.
But being blind, he couldn't make his way,
That's why a child would lead him every day.
And once he guided him along a brook
Where there were many rocks with stately look.
The old man paused to breathe and take a rest,
The toddler turned to him and spoke in jest:
"O, father, it is wrong to linger here
When crowds are waiting for you to appear
And give the sermon". So, the poor old man
Got up, took out his text and soon began
To read it and explain it with such grace,
That tears of joy did flood his wrinkled face.
The laughter of the child shook all his bones
Seeing the saint was preaching to the stones
And all his words got lost into thin air;
The old man stopped and with the greatest care

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Tudor Arghezi

Their hive [Stupul lor]

Their small hive, on glen below,
Is defended all around
By three poplars full of snow,
Rising from the snowy ground.

The beekeeper left them there
And the winter covered all –
Bringing sadness and despair –
With a nice embroidered shawl.

Yet, inside the cozy hive
All the bees, without delay,
As a single body strive
And work hard, day after day.

For they never toil alone
But together, all the time,
Buzzing on a lively tone
They make honey sweet, sublime.

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Mihai Eminescu

Guardian angel [Înger de pază]

As I was watching calmly and full of bliss at night,
A sublime guardian angel as in a dream came bright,
Clad all in shades and rays which blinded my keen sight
And with a smile, his wings over me gently spread;
But when he saw you dressed in your clothes poor and pale,
My dear lovable child, mysterious and frail,
Appalled by your dark eye, that angel quickly fled.

Are you somehow a demon, for your sad and cold glance
Emerging from your eye that lacks any romance,
Cast out my guardian angel, who took flight from my trance,
He, the divine protector and my friend always true?
Or, maybe!... Your long lashes, so black and full of grace
Can help me to unravel your pale and pretty face,
Since he – he's really you.

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Mihai Eminescu

I have one last caprice [Mai am un singur dor]

I have one last caprice
When evening falls on me
To let me die in peace
By the majestic sea.

To have a pleasant sleep,
The woods to be nearby,
Wherever I shall peep
To see the clear blue sky.

No banners at my head,
No coffin dear or suits,
But weave me a nice bed
Of green and tender shoots.

Don't wail with gloomy face
And gather all around,
The autumn with its grace
Will lay leaves on the ground.

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Lucian Blaga

Memnon's column

The column, cut deep by the sword of a king
got a beautiful gift, the stone didn't possess:
so, when touched by the first shining rays of the spring
it was able to sing the forbidden distress.

And through ages and ages, its holy, long chord
playing in the aurora, with a sound loud and fair,
the inner destruction and the secret discord,
could be heard all the time spreading notes in the air.

To perform all the time at a moment precise,
it was mended one day by another great king.
Yet, since then, neither played nor was able to sing.

That's because had a soul the stone frigid as ice,
as long as it suffered and bitter tears shed.
But having no wound, the creature was dead.

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George Topîrceanu

Moments of turmoil [Clipe de zbucium]

My love, I feel that you're so far away...
You've put your tiny hands upon my head,
But like a wall between us stand today
The memories of times that now are dead.

When my whole being craves you, it's in vain,
You remain still, your eyes stare in the night,
So many secrets full of grief and pain
Get lost in the deep darkness of your sight!

I hope my life will end, because I'm sad,
The wind of passion blows through the leaves green,
I ask to see the face that you once had,
Which until now I've never ever seen.

O, how I wish the pain was cured by time!
So many nights I've cherished it in vain,
I've sacrificed to it my years sublime
I've smiled... Only your heart has been my gain.

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George Topîrceanu

Moments of turmoil [Clipe de zbucium]

My love, I feel that you're so far away...
You've put your tiny hands upon my head,
But like a wall between us stand today
The memories of times that now are dead.

When my whole being craves you, it's in vain,
You remain still, your eyes stare in the night,
So many secrets full of grief and pain
Get lost in the deep darkness of your sight!

I hope my life will end, because I'm sad,
The wind of passion blows through the leaves green,
I ask to see the face that you once had,
Which until now I've never ever seen.

O, how I wish the pain was cured by time!
So many nights I've cherished it in vain,
I've sacrificed to it my years sublime
I've smiled... Only your heart has been my gain.

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Mihai Eminescu

Diana

What are you looking for at night
When moon is shining in the springs
And where the birds in warble fight
Flapping enchanted their wings?

Can't you perceive this nice array
Of leaves that whisper in the glade
And kiss each other and they play
In the refreshing forest's shade?

And like in mirrors moving fast
You want to watch a funny game,
In waters that have come and passed,
While your big eyes remain the same?

The spring has filled the woods again
Reviving everything, in truth,
However, all your thoughts are vain,
Like Endymion's, that fair youth.

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George Topîrceanu

From the threshold [Din prag]

Like evening star
I fade away
And night around
Will soon expand.

When all the past
Dies in my soul
It is replaced
By desert land...

O, icon dear
From other times,
Right now you seem
A ruined dream...

Come closer, please,
To kiss your hand
And blackish eyes,
Which brightly gleam!

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