Mar 23, 2012
Quotes from "The last night of love, the first night of war" ("Ultima noapte de dragoste, intaia noapte de razboi") by Camil Petrescu
0 comentarii Publicat de Pure Wish la 3/23/2012 07:31:00 PMIubirea fizică frumoasă e o profanare. E nevoia amară de a zdrobi, de a răzbi într-o îmbrăţişare, odaată cu trupul frământat, şi sufletul, prizonier suav în el, în clipele acelea.
Beautiful physical love is a profanation. It's the bitter need to crush, to defeat in an embrace, along with the kneaded body, the soul also, gentle prisoner in it, in those moments.
Să te consideri spectator indulgent şi amuzat al lumii acesteia plină de infamie şi de prostie e să faci parte din ea, şi să beneficiezi de infamiile ei, având aerul că-i eşti deasupra.
Considering yourself an indulgent spectator of this world full of infamy and stupidity is being part of it and benefiting of its infamies, having the impression that you're above it.
Am sărutat-o chiar pe această femeie care nu mai era a mea, era a morţii şi am privit-o cu indiferenţa cu care priveşti un tablou.
I kissed this woman that wasn't mine anymore, it was of the death and I looked at her with the indifference with which you look at a painting.
Cei care se iubesc au drept de viaţă şi de moarte unul asupra celuilalt.
The ones that love each other have a right of life and death on the other.
Dragostea e frumoasă tocmai pentru că nu cunoaşte nici o silnicie. E o preferinţă sinceră. Nu poţi să-mi impui să te iubesc cu sila.
Love is beautiful just because it doesn't know any constrains. It's a sincere preference. You can't constrain me to love you.
Fiecare credem că femeia care ne iubeşte are, păstrate pentru noi, anumite gesturi de mângâiere şi frumuseţe, gesturi cărora noi le dăm un anume înţeles şi e o suferinţă crâncenă să vedem că le are şi pentru altul.
Beautiful physical love is a profanation. It's the bitter need to crush, to defeat in an embrace, along with the kneaded body, the soul also, gentle prisoner in it, in those moments.
Să te consideri spectator indulgent şi amuzat al lumii acesteia plină de infamie şi de prostie e să faci parte din ea, şi să beneficiezi de infamiile ei, având aerul că-i eşti deasupra.
Considering yourself an indulgent spectator of this world full of infamy and stupidity is being part of it and benefiting of its infamies, having the impression that you're above it.
Am sărutat-o chiar pe această femeie care nu mai era a mea, era a morţii şi am privit-o cu indiferenţa cu care priveşti un tablou.
I kissed this woman that wasn't mine anymore, it was of the death and I looked at her with the indifference with which you look at a painting.
Cei care se iubesc au drept de viaţă şi de moarte unul asupra celuilalt.
The ones that love each other have a right of life and death on the other.
Dragostea e frumoasă tocmai pentru că nu cunoaşte nici o silnicie. E o preferinţă sinceră. Nu poţi să-mi impui să te iubesc cu sila.
Love is beautiful just because it doesn't know any constrains. It's a sincere preference. You can't constrain me to love you.
Fiecare credem că femeia care ne iubeşte are, păstrate pentru noi, anumite gesturi de mângâiere şi frumuseţe, gesturi cărora noi le dăm un anume înţeles şi e o suferinţă crâncenă să vedem că le are şi pentru altul.
Each of us believes that the woman we love has, kept for us, certain gesture of caress and beauty, gestures to which we give a certain meaning and it's a fierce suffering seeing that she also has them for another man.
Mă cuprindea o nesfârşită tristeţe văzând că nici femeia asta, pe care o credeam aproape sulfet din sufletul meu, nu înţelegea că poţi să lupţi cu îndârjire şi fără cruţare pentru triumful unei idei, dar în acelaşi timp să-ţi fie silă să te frămânţi pentru o sumă, fie ea oricât de mare.
I was overwhelmed by an endless sadness seeing that neither this woman, which I thought was almost soul of my soul, didn't understand that you can fight vigorously and mercilessly for the triumph of an idea, but at the same time loathe troubling for a sum, no matter how big it is.
Dacă vrei să cunoşti liniştit frumuseţea unei femei, trebuie neapărat să o faci să sufere; numai suferinta o înfrumuseţează, aşa cum numai când simt umbra morţii cântă sublim lebedele.
If you want to peacefully understand the beauty of a woman, you must make her suffer; only suffering makes her beautiful, just like only when they feel the shadow of death do swans sing sublimely.
Negreşit, oamenii sunt şi buni şi răi, dar e necesar să se precizeze în ce împrejurări. Trei nule puse înaintea cifrei una sau după ea, nu înseamnă acelaşi lucru.
Surely, people are both good and bad, but it is necessary to be specified in what context. Three zeros that are put before one or behind it don't mean the same thing.
O femeie îşi dă sufletul şi pe urmă şi-l reia intact. Şi de ce nu? Are dreptul să ia înapoi exact cât a dat.
A woman gives her soul and then takes it back intact. And why not? She has the right to take back exactly what she gave.
I was overwhelmed by an endless sadness seeing that neither this woman, which I thought was almost soul of my soul, didn't understand that you can fight vigorously and mercilessly for the triumph of an idea, but at the same time loathe troubling for a sum, no matter how big it is.
Dacă vrei să cunoşti liniştit frumuseţea unei femei, trebuie neapărat să o faci să sufere; numai suferinta o înfrumuseţează, aşa cum numai când simt umbra morţii cântă sublim lebedele.
If you want to peacefully understand the beauty of a woman, you must make her suffer; only suffering makes her beautiful, just like only when they feel the shadow of death do swans sing sublimely.
Negreşit, oamenii sunt şi buni şi răi, dar e necesar să se precizeze în ce împrejurări. Trei nule puse înaintea cifrei una sau după ea, nu înseamnă acelaşi lucru.
Surely, people are both good and bad, but it is necessary to be specified in what context. Three zeros that are put before one or behind it don't mean the same thing.
O femeie îşi dă sufletul şi pe urmă şi-l reia intact. Şi de ce nu? Are dreptul să ia înapoi exact cât a dat.
A woman gives her soul and then takes it back intact. And why not? She has the right to take back exactly what she gave.
Wishes
Etichete: betrayal, camil petrescu, love, war
Love, a young lioness (Leoaica tanara, iubirea) by Nichita Stanescu
1 comentarii Publicat de Pure Wish la 3/23/2012 06:53:00 PMLove, a young lioness
jumped into my face.
She watched me with strain
long time ago.
She stuck her white fangs in my face,
the lioness bit me, today, of my face.
And suddenly around me, nature
turned into a circle, rolling,
sometimes larger, sometimes closer,
like a gathering of waters.
And the look sprung up,
rainbow cut in two,
and the hearing met it
right next to the skylarks.
I took my hand to my eyebrow,
to my temple and chin,
but the hand doesn't know them anymore.
And it slides unknowingly
on a shining desert,
over which passes lazily
a copper lioness
with cunning moves,
one more time,
and one more time...
jumped into my face.
She watched me with strain
long time ago.
She stuck her white fangs in my face,
the lioness bit me, today, of my face.
And suddenly around me, nature
turned into a circle, rolling,
sometimes larger, sometimes closer,
like a gathering of waters.
And the look sprung up,
rainbow cut in two,
and the hearing met it
right next to the skylarks.
I took my hand to my eyebrow,
to my temple and chin,
but the hand doesn't know them anymore.
And it slides unknowingly
on a shining desert,
over which passes lazily
a copper lioness
with cunning moves,
one more time,
and one more time...
Wishes
Etichete: desert, lioness, love, nichita stanescu, poem
My life is lightening (Viata mea se ilumineaza) by Nichita Stanescu
0 comentarii Publicat de Pure Wish la 3/23/2012 06:37:00 PMYour hair is fading because of the sun,
my queen of black and salt.
The shore broke away from the sea and followed you
like a shadow, like an unarmed snake.
Ghosts of the summer in decay pass,
the ships of my marine soul.
And my life is lightening,
under your green eye at afternoon,
grey like the earth at dusk.
Alas, I run and jump and pour.
Give me one more minute.
Gibe me one more second.
Give me one more leaf, a grain of sand.
Give me one more breeze, a wave.
Give me one more season, a year, some time.
my queen of black and salt.
The shore broke away from the sea and followed you
like a shadow, like an unarmed snake.
Ghosts of the summer in decay pass,
the ships of my marine soul.
And my life is lightening,
under your green eye at afternoon,
grey like the earth at dusk.
Alas, I run and jump and pour.
Give me one more minute.
Gibe me one more second.
Give me one more leaf, a grain of sand.
Give me one more breeze, a wave.
Give me one more season, a year, some time.
Wishes
Rain in the month of March (Ploaie in luna lui Marte) by Nichita Stanescu
0 comentarii Publicat de Pure Wish la 3/23/2012 06:15:00 PMIt was raining infernally,
and we were making love in attics.
Through the sky of the window, oval,
the clouds were pouring in the month of March.
The walls of the chamber were
restless, under drawings of chalk.
Our souls were dancing
unseen in a definite world.
It will rain on your wings, you said,
it's raining with globes on the globe and through time.
It's ok, I would tell you, Lorelei,
my flight rains, with feathers.
And I was rising. And I didn't know were
in the world I had left the chamber.
You were shouting behind me: answer me, answer me.
what's more beautiful? humans?... the rain?...
It was raining infernally, completely insane rain,
and we were making love in attics.
I wouldn't want it ever to end
that month of March.
and we were making love in attics.
Through the sky of the window, oval,
the clouds were pouring in the month of March.
The walls of the chamber were
restless, under drawings of chalk.
Our souls were dancing
unseen in a definite world.
It will rain on your wings, you said,
it's raining with globes on the globe and through time.
It's ok, I would tell you, Lorelei,
my flight rains, with feathers.
And I was rising. And I didn't know were
in the world I had left the chamber.
You were shouting behind me: answer me, answer me.
what's more beautiful? humans?... the rain?...
It was raining infernally, completely insane rain,
and we were making love in attics.
I wouldn't want it ever to end
that month of March.
Wishes
Apr 13, 2011
Inger si Demon (Angel and Demon) by Nimeni Altu'
0 comentarii Publicat de Pure Wish la 4/13/2011 04:57:00 PMCall me a demon,
Last night I made an angel cry
For the umpteenth time.
I don't know what's happening to me.
And I still dream while smoking,
And I drink and I want us to be ok,
But I feel that I can't keep you any more,
And I understand you or I try to fake it.
I know you're sick of hearing
"I'm sorry, I won't do it again",
But that's who I am,
I'll probably be like this years later.
You know we never had problems about money
It was just about me changing one day,
And I'll grow up and become responsible,
And I'll start thinking
About future, health, work, home and us,
About everything that bound us once ,
And about everything that we both wanted.
So much, I can't believe how much time has passed,
Everything that we went through, especially you...
Since we met I wonder why destiny decided to make us come across each other,
And then killed all our dreams, making us suffer.
Why do we still love each other?
Why am I saying all these things?
And what for if all I'm leaving behind is ash and smoke,
And you're leaving on another road?
Why didn't I succeed to be what I wanted when I was small?
Why don't we have a son? And especially, why am i still alive?
When I know that my heart is yours and that you won't be mine,
And especially when I know that I will not love anyone else.
I just needed to see you to feel how dear you are to me...
I wish someone would bury me,
God, give me soil,
But promise me that I'll never see her cry,
promise me that You'll let me see her even if she doesn't see me,
And make her, God, please, smile again.
Give her another chance... I wasted all mine
Give her another life, hope, and me, death,
Take my cursed days and bury my body deeply,
Don't let me cry, just give me three reasons to laugh.
And please, God, let me from once in a while
Listen, while smoking, to the Gonzales brothers sing because
They are my only consolation when my heart hurts
And my tongue burns from so many bitter words
And palavers which I say without thinking,
Because I hurry and try to leave something behind while I'm still living
Each line that I say now I say it directly,
Like each step I make when I walk
Alone, I'm sure that's how it was supposed to be.
I would give my whole family for the fulfillment of a dream.
It's sad and you're sad if you listen to me.
Child, do something at least for your better living
And don't worry about losing everything you gathered in your life,
I leave you a grave next to the dead poets, but still alive,
Learn to keep your soul in ice and learn
That in the end there's only a graveyard and a lot of fog...
Last night I made an angel cry
For the umpteenth time.
I don't know what's happening to me.
And I still dream while smoking,
And I drink and I want us to be ok,
But I feel that I can't keep you any more,
And I understand you or I try to fake it.
I know you're sick of hearing
"I'm sorry, I won't do it again",
But that's who I am,
I'll probably be like this years later.
You know we never had problems about money
It was just about me changing one day,
And I'll grow up and become responsible,
And I'll start thinking
About future, health, work, home and us,
About everything that bound us once ,
And about everything that we both wanted.
So much, I can't believe how much time has passed,
Everything that we went through, especially you...
Since we met I wonder why destiny decided to make us come across each other,
And then killed all our dreams, making us suffer.
Why do we still love each other?
Why am I saying all these things?
And what for if all I'm leaving behind is ash and smoke,
And you're leaving on another road?
Why didn't I succeed to be what I wanted when I was small?
Why don't we have a son? And especially, why am i still alive?
When I know that my heart is yours and that you won't be mine,
And especially when I know that I will not love anyone else.
I just needed to see you to feel how dear you are to me...
I wish someone would bury me,
God, give me soil,
But promise me that I'll never see her cry,
promise me that You'll let me see her even if she doesn't see me,
And make her, God, please, smile again.
Give her another chance... I wasted all mine
Give her another life, hope, and me, death,
Take my cursed days and bury my body deeply,
Don't let me cry, just give me three reasons to laugh.
And please, God, let me from once in a while
Listen, while smoking, to the Gonzales brothers sing because
They are my only consolation when my heart hurts
And my tongue burns from so many bitter words
And palavers which I say without thinking,
Because I hurry and try to leave something behind while I'm still living
Each line that I say now I say it directly,
Like each step I make when I walk
Alone, I'm sure that's how it was supposed to be.
I would give my whole family for the fulfillment of a dream.
It's sad and you're sad if you listen to me.
Child, do something at least for your better living
And don't worry about losing everything you gathered in your life,
I leave you a grave next to the dead poets, but still alive,
Learn to keep your soul in ice and learn
That in the end there's only a graveyard and a lot of fog...
Feb 18, 2011
Blue flower (Floare albastra) by Mihai Eminescu
0 comentarii Publicat de Pure Wish la 2/18/2011 11:42:00 PM-"Did you sink again in stars
And in clouds and in high skies?
Only if you didn't forget me,
Soul of my life.
In vain rivers into the sun
With your mind you crowd
And the Asir plains
And the dark sea;
The old pyramids
Rise their big tip into the sky -
Don't look into the distance
For you happiness, my love!"
So she said, tiny one,
Sweetly smoothing my hair.
Alas! she said the truth;
I laughed, I didn't say a thing.
-"Let's go into the green forest,
Where springs cry in the valley,
Where the rock is about to fall
Into the great abyss,
There in the forest's eye,
Next to the smooth cane
And under the clear sky
We will sit on blackberry leaves.
And then you will tell me stories
And lies with your little mouth,
Me, on a strand of chamomile
Will find out if you love me.
And because of the sun's heat
I'll be red like an apple,
I'll loosen my golden hair
To block your mouth with .
If you will give me a kiss,
No one in the world will know.
Because it will be under a hat -
And then who's business is it?
When through the branches will have shown
The moon in the summer night,
You will hold me of my armpits,
I will hold you from under your neck.
On the path with arches of leaves,
Heading to the village in the valley,
We'll be giving each other kisses,
Sweet like hidden flowers.
And reaching the gate's step,
We'll be talking in the darkness;
No one should worry about us,
Who cares if I like you?"
Another kiss - and she disappears...
Like a pole I was standing under the moon!
How beautiful, how crazy
Is my blue, sweet flower!
....................................................
And you went, sweet miracle,
And our love died -
Blue flower! blue flower!...
Yet... it's sad in the world!
And in clouds and in high skies?
Only if you didn't forget me,
Soul of my life.
In vain rivers into the sun
With your mind you crowd
And the Asir plains
And the dark sea;
The old pyramids
Rise their big tip into the sky -
Don't look into the distance
For you happiness, my love!"
So she said, tiny one,
Sweetly smoothing my hair.
Alas! she said the truth;
I laughed, I didn't say a thing.
-"Let's go into the green forest,
Where springs cry in the valley,
Where the rock is about to fall
Into the great abyss,
There in the forest's eye,
Next to the smooth cane
And under the clear sky
We will sit on blackberry leaves.
And then you will tell me stories
And lies with your little mouth,
Me, on a strand of chamomile
Will find out if you love me.
And because of the sun's heat
I'll be red like an apple,
I'll loosen my golden hair
To block your mouth with .
If you will give me a kiss,
No one in the world will know.
Because it will be under a hat -
And then who's business is it?
When through the branches will have shown
The moon in the summer night,
You will hold me of my armpits,
I will hold you from under your neck.
On the path with arches of leaves,
Heading to the village in the valley,
We'll be giving each other kisses,
Sweet like hidden flowers.
And reaching the gate's step,
We'll be talking in the darkness;
No one should worry about us,
Who cares if I like you?"
Another kiss - and she disappears...
Like a pole I was standing under the moon!
How beautiful, how crazy
Is my blue, sweet flower!
....................................................
And you went, sweet miracle,
And our love died -
Blue flower! blue flower!...
Yet... it's sad in the world!
Etichete: blue flower, floare albastra, love, mihai eminescu, poem
May 8, 2010
Angel and demon (Inger si demon) by Mihai Eminescu
0 comentarii Publicat de Pure Wish la 5/08/2010 12:36:00 AMNight in the sad Dome, through yellow lights
Of the wax candles which burn near the shrines-
While the sky at Dome's end stays dark and big,
Impenetrable by the red eyes of tired wicks,
In the empty church, near the curved wall,
On her knees is sitting on the stairs a girl like an angel;
On the shrine's icon in red broken lights,
Pale and sad the Virgin can be seen.
A flame is stuck in a gray stoned pillar;
Shiny drops of tar fall on the ground sizzling
And crowns of dried flowers are hissing
And the girl's pray is mysteriously whispering.
Deep in the darkness, near an inert cross,
In a thick black shadow, like a demon He is watching,
The elbows on the cross's arms he relaxes and sets,
The eyes buried in his head, his forehead sad and dimpled.
And his chin is pressing against the stone's cold shoulder,
His black hair like the night over the marble's white arm;
Only the sad candle with her pink-white reflection
Gently throws a glint of light which passes over his face.
She an angel who is praying- Him a demon who is dreaming;
She a golden heart- Him an aposted soul;
Him in his deadly shadow, is sitting leaned back-
At Madonna's feet, sad, saint, She is watching.
On a high and cold wall like a clean marble,
White like winter's snow, shiny like the gentle water,
Is reflecting like in a mirror the girl's full shadow-
Her shadow, which is praying on it's knees like her.
What you need, blond child with your nobleness,
With white marble face and wax hands,
Veil- a transparent mist chewed into the stars; clear
Is your innocent look under your eyelashes' shadow;
What you need to be an angel- long and constellated wings.
But what I see: What is spreading from your shoulders' shadow?
Two shadows of wings which are moving shivering,
Two shadows of wings rising to the sky.
Oh, that's not her shadow- it's her guardian angel;
Near the white marble I see it's flying creature.
Over her innocent life, his endless one,
Near her he is praying, near her he kneels down.
But if that is her shadow- then She is an angel,
But her white wings can't be seen by the world;
Sanctified walls by the world's long prayers
See her transparent wings and spread the word about them.
I love you!- the demon was about to shout in his night,
But the winged shadow softens his lips;
Not for love, for praying he bends his knees
And listens carried from this world her sweet and shy whispers.
....................................................................................
Her?- A king's daughter, blond with a tiara of stars,
Passes through the world happy, angel, queen and woman;
He puts through the nations the destruction's spark
And in deserted hearts he sows rebel thoughts.
Separated by life's waves, between him and her
Centuries are of thinking, a history, -a nation,
Sometimes- although rarely- they meet, and their eyes
Stare, as if they're absorbed in their burning wish.
Her big blue eyes, sweet of kindness and soft,
How deep penetrate into his black gusty eyes!
And on his skinny face a red cloud passes slowly-
They love each other... And they're so far apart!
A pale king came, and his ancient crown,
Heavy of glories and power, he would have put it in her lap,
If she put her foot on the throne's carpet
And in his sceptered hand, her thin, small hand.
But no- dumb remained her hardly opened lips,
Dumb the heart in her chest, her hand pulled back.
In the soul's mystery, she lobed. Clearly and slowly
She was seeing the demon in her young dreams.
She was seeing him moving the people with cold, daring ideas;
He's so powerful- she thought, with a lovely sweet fright;
He stirs the present with his thoughts' fame
Against everything that long centuries and great foreheads gathered.
He often climbed on a rock wraps himself in anger
In the red flag and his harsh, deep, dimpled forehead,
Looked like a black night covered with storms
His eyes were fulminating and his word awakening the vile fury.
........................................................................................................
On a poor bed is sweating in a long agony
The young man. A lamp is stretching her miser and sleazy tongue,
Sizzling in sick air.- No one knows about him,
No one softens his fate, no one caresses his forehead.
Oh! all those thoughts headed against the world,
Against the written rules, against the ordinary
With God's approval- today everything's arranged
Against the dying heart, they want to strangle the soul!
Dying without hope! Who knows the sadness
Hidden in these words?- To feel trapped, small,
To see that the great aspirations are reduced to nothing,
That in the world evil is ruling and you can't oppose,
Because opposing, you are wasting your life-
And when you die you see that you lived for nothing.
A death like this is the hell. Other tears, other sadness
Crueler is not possible. You feel that you are nothing.
And those dark thoughts won't let him die.
How did he enter life? How much love of right and good,
How much sincere brotherhood he had brought with him!
And the reward?- Sadness, which is oppressing his soul.
But through the dark mist, which is covering the eyes,
The tall shadow of an angel is getting closer shining,
It smoothly sits on his bed; his blinded by tears eyes
She kisses. The mist disappears from them...
It's Her. With a deep, never felt before satisfaction,
He looks in her eyes.- She's proud of compassion;
She's reconciliating in his last hour his whole painful life;
Oh! he's whispering while dying- you're who I'm guessing, my love.
I followed this earth, this weather, life, people
With my rebel thoughts against the open sky;
He didn't want to condemn the demon, but he sent
An angel to conciliate me, and the conciliation is... love.
Of the wax candles which burn near the shrines-
While the sky at Dome's end stays dark and big,
Impenetrable by the red eyes of tired wicks,
In the empty church, near the curved wall,
On her knees is sitting on the stairs a girl like an angel;
On the shrine's icon in red broken lights,
Pale and sad the Virgin can be seen.
A flame is stuck in a gray stoned pillar;
Shiny drops of tar fall on the ground sizzling
And crowns of dried flowers are hissing
And the girl's pray is mysteriously whispering.
Deep in the darkness, near an inert cross,
In a thick black shadow, like a demon He is watching,
The elbows on the cross's arms he relaxes and sets,
The eyes buried in his head, his forehead sad and dimpled.
And his chin is pressing against the stone's cold shoulder,
His black hair like the night over the marble's white arm;
Only the sad candle with her pink-white reflection
Gently throws a glint of light which passes over his face.
She an angel who is praying- Him a demon who is dreaming;
She a golden heart- Him an aposted soul;
Him in his deadly shadow, is sitting leaned back-
At Madonna's feet, sad, saint, She is watching.
On a high and cold wall like a clean marble,
White like winter's snow, shiny like the gentle water,
Is reflecting like in a mirror the girl's full shadow-
Her shadow, which is praying on it's knees like her.
What you need, blond child with your nobleness,
With white marble face and wax hands,
Veil- a transparent mist chewed into the stars; clear
Is your innocent look under your eyelashes' shadow;
What you need to be an angel- long and constellated wings.
But what I see: What is spreading from your shoulders' shadow?
Two shadows of wings which are moving shivering,
Two shadows of wings rising to the sky.
Oh, that's not her shadow- it's her guardian angel;
Near the white marble I see it's flying creature.
Over her innocent life, his endless one,
Near her he is praying, near her he kneels down.
But if that is her shadow- then She is an angel,
But her white wings can't be seen by the world;
Sanctified walls by the world's long prayers
See her transparent wings and spread the word about them.
I love you!- the demon was about to shout in his night,
But the winged shadow softens his lips;
Not for love, for praying he bends his knees
And listens carried from this world her sweet and shy whispers.
....................................................................................
Her?- A king's daughter, blond with a tiara of stars,
Passes through the world happy, angel, queen and woman;
He puts through the nations the destruction's spark
And in deserted hearts he sows rebel thoughts.
Separated by life's waves, between him and her
Centuries are of thinking, a history, -a nation,
Sometimes- although rarely- they meet, and their eyes
Stare, as if they're absorbed in their burning wish.
Her big blue eyes, sweet of kindness and soft,
How deep penetrate into his black gusty eyes!
And on his skinny face a red cloud passes slowly-
They love each other... And they're so far apart!
A pale king came, and his ancient crown,
Heavy of glories and power, he would have put it in her lap,
If she put her foot on the throne's carpet
And in his sceptered hand, her thin, small hand.
But no- dumb remained her hardly opened lips,
Dumb the heart in her chest, her hand pulled back.
In the soul's mystery, she lobed. Clearly and slowly
She was seeing the demon in her young dreams.
She was seeing him moving the people with cold, daring ideas;
He's so powerful- she thought, with a lovely sweet fright;
He stirs the present with his thoughts' fame
Against everything that long centuries and great foreheads gathered.
He often climbed on a rock wraps himself in anger
In the red flag and his harsh, deep, dimpled forehead,
Looked like a black night covered with storms
His eyes were fulminating and his word awakening the vile fury.
........................................................................................................
On a poor bed is sweating in a long agony
The young man. A lamp is stretching her miser and sleazy tongue,
Sizzling in sick air.- No one knows about him,
No one softens his fate, no one caresses his forehead.
Oh! all those thoughts headed against the world,
Against the written rules, against the ordinary
With God's approval- today everything's arranged
Against the dying heart, they want to strangle the soul!
Dying without hope! Who knows the sadness
Hidden in these words?- To feel trapped, small,
To see that the great aspirations are reduced to nothing,
That in the world evil is ruling and you can't oppose,
Because opposing, you are wasting your life-
And when you die you see that you lived for nothing.
A death like this is the hell. Other tears, other sadness
Crueler is not possible. You feel that you are nothing.
And those dark thoughts won't let him die.
How did he enter life? How much love of right and good,
How much sincere brotherhood he had brought with him!
And the reward?- Sadness, which is oppressing his soul.
But through the dark mist, which is covering the eyes,
The tall shadow of an angel is getting closer shining,
It smoothly sits on his bed; his blinded by tears eyes
She kisses. The mist disappears from them...
It's Her. With a deep, never felt before satisfaction,
He looks in her eyes.- She's proud of compassion;
She's reconciliating in his last hour his whole painful life;
Oh! he's whispering while dying- you're who I'm guessing, my love.
I followed this earth, this weather, life, people
With my rebel thoughts against the open sky;
He didn't want to condemn the demon, but he sent
An angel to conciliate me, and the conciliation is... love.
broken roses
;;
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)