Apr 28, 2010
Every time, my love ( De cate ori, iubito) by Mihai Eminescu
0 comentarii Publicat de Pure Wish la 4/28/2010 10:11:00 PM
Every time, my love, I remember,
The frozen ocean appears ahead of me:
On the steamy sky no star shows itself,
Far away only the yellow moon-a spot;
And over thousands of rapid icy waves
A bird is floating with tired wings,
While its mate kept flying forward
With a whole stock of birds, disappearing in the sunset,
It's looking back with suffering glances,
It's not sorry now, it's not glad... it dies,
Dreaming itself years back in a second.
We are further and further together,
More and more I'm darkening and freezing,
When you're not disappearing in the eternal morning's horizon.
The frozen ocean appears ahead of me:
On the steamy sky no star shows itself,
Far away only the yellow moon-a spot;
And over thousands of rapid icy waves
A bird is floating with tired wings,
While its mate kept flying forward
With a whole stock of birds, disappearing in the sunset,
It's looking back with suffering glances,
It's not sorry now, it's not glad... it dies,
Dreaming itself years back in a second.
We are further and further together,
More and more I'm darkening and freezing,
When you're not disappearing in the eternal morning's horizon.
broken roses
What's love? (Ce e amorul?) by Mihai Eminescu
0 comentarii Publicat de Pure Wish la 4/28/2010 09:51:00 PMWhat's love? It's a long
Reason for pain,
Because thousands of tears aren't enough
And it keeps asking for more.
Of a passing sign from her
It binds your soul,
So that you won't forget her
Your whole life.
But she's still waiting in the threshold for you
In the corner's shadows,
So lover with lover can meet
After your heart's request:
The sky and earth disappear
And your chest is beating,
And it keeps hanging from a word
Half whispered.
It follows you for weeks
A step made slowly,
A sweet handshake,
An eyelash trembling.
Lights are following you
Like the sun and the moon,
And through the day so many times
And always in the night.
Because it was written that your life
Of her longing won't fit,
Because it embraced you like
The liana from the water.
Reason for pain,
Because thousands of tears aren't enough
And it keeps asking for more.
Of a passing sign from her
It binds your soul,
So that you won't forget her
Your whole life.
But she's still waiting in the threshold for you
In the corner's shadows,
So lover with lover can meet
After your heart's request:
The sky and earth disappear
And your chest is beating,
And it keeps hanging from a word
Half whispered.
It follows you for weeks
A step made slowly,
A sweet handshake,
An eyelash trembling.
Lights are following you
Like the sun and the moon,
And through the day so many times
And always in the night.
Because it was written that your life
Of her longing won't fit,
Because it embraced you like
The liana from the water.
broken roses
Apr 26, 2010
The young people (Tinerii) by Nichita Stanescu
0 comentarii Publicat de Pure Wish la 4/26/2010 10:25:00 PM
They kiss, ah, they kiss, they kiss
the young people on the streets, in bars, on fences,
they keep kissing as if they
only were some terminations
of the kiss.
They kiss, ah, they kiss through the running cars,
in the subway stations, in the cinemas,
in the buses, they desperately kiss,
violently, as if
at the end of the kiss, after the kiss
there's only the unavoidable old age
and death.
They kiss, ah, they kiss the thin young people
and in love. So thin, as if
they would ignore bread's existence in this world.
So in love, as if, as if
they would ignore world's existence itself.
They kiss, ah, they kiss as if
in the darkness, in the most secure darkness,
as if no one could see them, as if
the sun was about to rise
bright
only
after the torn and bleeding from all the kissing mouths
wouldn't be able to kiss
but with the teeth.
the young people on the streets, in bars, on fences,
they keep kissing as if they
only were some terminations
of the kiss.
They kiss, ah, they kiss through the running cars,
in the subway stations, in the cinemas,
in the buses, they desperately kiss,
violently, as if
at the end of the kiss, after the kiss
there's only the unavoidable old age
and death.
They kiss, ah, they kiss the thin young people
and in love. So thin, as if
they would ignore bread's existence in this world.
So in love, as if, as if
they would ignore world's existence itself.
They kiss, ah, they kiss as if
in the darkness, in the most secure darkness,
as if no one could see them, as if
the sun was about to rise
bright
only
after the torn and bleeding from all the kissing mouths
wouldn't be able to kiss
but with the teeth.
broken roses
To Galateea (Catre Galateea) by Nichita Stanescu
0 comentarii Publicat de Pure Wish la 4/26/2010 10:04:00 PM
I know all your times, all your moves, all your perfumes
and your shadow, and your silences, and your breast
what shiver they have and what color,
and your walk, and your melancholy, and your eyebrows,
and your blouse, and your ring, and the second
and I can't wait anymore and I put my knee in rocks
and I beg you,
give birth to me.
I know what's far from you,
so far, that close doesn't exist anymore-
afternoon, after the skyline, after the sea...
and everything that is after them,
and so far, that it doesn't have a name.
That's why I bend my knee and put it
on the rock's knee, which is humming.
And I beg you,
give birth to me.
I know everything that you never know, from inside you.
The heartbeat that follows the one you're hearing now,
the end of the word whose first syllable you're just saying
trees- wooden shadows of your veins,
rivers- moving shadows of your blood,
and rocks, the rocks- rock shadows of my knee,
which I bend in front of you and I beg you,
give birth to me. Give birth to me.
and your shadow, and your silences, and your breast
what shiver they have and what color,
and your walk, and your melancholy, and your eyebrows,
and your blouse, and your ring, and the second
and I can't wait anymore and I put my knee in rocks
and I beg you,
give birth to me.
I know what's far from you,
so far, that close doesn't exist anymore-
afternoon, after the skyline, after the sea...
and everything that is after them,
and so far, that it doesn't have a name.
That's why I bend my knee and put it
on the rock's knee, which is humming.
And I beg you,
give birth to me.
I know everything that you never know, from inside you.
The heartbeat that follows the one you're hearing now,
the end of the word whose first syllable you're just saying
trees- wooden shadows of your veins,
rivers- moving shadows of your blood,
and rocks, the rocks- rock shadows of my knee,
which I bend in front of you and I beg you,
give birth to me. Give birth to me.
broken roses
Apr 17, 2010
So fragile... (Atat de frageda...) by Mihai Eminescu
0 comentarii Publicat de Pure Wish la 4/17/2010 03:23:00 PMSo fragile, you are like
A white cherry blossom,
And like an angel from the humans
You walk into my life's path.
You barely touch the soft carpet,
The silk chimes under your foot,
And from the crown until your hips
You float as lightly as a dream.
From the long dress's wrinkles
You rise like the marble-
My soul is hanging from the eyes
Full of tears and luck.
Oh, happy dream of love,
Mild bride from fairy tales,
Stop smiling! Your smile
Shows me how sweet you are,
How you can with the night's charm
To darken my eyes forever,
With your mouth's cold whispers,
With embraces of cold arms.
Suddenly a thought passes,
A veil over your hot eyes:
It's the dark resignation,
It's the shadow of sweet desires.
You're leaving, and I understood
That I shouldn't follow you,
Forever lost for me,
The bride of my soul!
That I saw you it's my fault
And I'll never forgive myself,
I will atone the dream of light
Stretching my right in the desert.
And you will rise like an icon
Of the forever pure Maria,
On your forehead wearing a crown-
Where are you going? When will you come?
A white cherry blossom,
And like an angel from the humans
You walk into my life's path.
You barely touch the soft carpet,
The silk chimes under your foot,
And from the crown until your hips
You float as lightly as a dream.
From the long dress's wrinkles
You rise like the marble-
My soul is hanging from the eyes
Full of tears and luck.
Oh, happy dream of love,
Mild bride from fairy tales,
Stop smiling! Your smile
Shows me how sweet you are,
How you can with the night's charm
To darken my eyes forever,
With your mouth's cold whispers,
With embraces of cold arms.
Suddenly a thought passes,
A veil over your hot eyes:
It's the dark resignation,
It's the shadow of sweet desires.
You're leaving, and I understood
That I shouldn't follow you,
Forever lost for me,
The bride of my soul!
That I saw you it's my fault
And I'll never forgive myself,
I will atone the dream of light
Stretching my right in the desert.
And you will rise like an icon
Of the forever pure Maria,
On your forehead wearing a crown-
Where are you going? When will you come?
broken roses
Alone she's waiting for me to come home,
In my absence she's only thinking of me,
her the dearest and the chosen one
from the sublime slaves.
She gets sick of the solitude
she sits and washed the floor all the time
until she makes it fourteen carats
and just so that the today can step on it.
She washed the house's wall with her hand
and she hangs paintings on it
so that the rogue can enjoy it
fallen from the door in echoes.
She is waiting for her drunk husband
To come home
and she randy moves her white fingers
for his beautiful nape.
Getting them ready to get undrunk
she keeps in bowls and sour juice,
she spreads her long and black hair from the door to the bed
so that her man will never mistake
the fated way.
In my absence she's only thinking of me,
her the dearest and the chosen one
from the sublime slaves.
She gets sick of the solitude
she sits and washed the floor all the time
until she makes it fourteen carats
and just so that the today can step on it.
She washed the house's wall with her hand
and she hangs paintings on it
so that the rogue can enjoy it
fallen from the door in echoes.
She is waiting for her drunk husband
To come home
and she randy moves her white fingers
for his beautiful nape.
Getting them ready to get undrunk
she keeps in bowls and sour juice,
she spreads her long and black hair from the door to the bed
so that her man will never mistake
the fated way.
broken roses
Of love (De dragoste) by Nichita Stanescu
0 comentarii Publicat de Pure Wish la 4/17/2010 01:39:00 PMShe's sitting bored and very beautiful
her black hair is upset
her bright hand
long ago has forgotten me,-
long ago she forgot herself
how she's hanging on the chair's neck.
I drown in lights
and gnash in the year's cycle.
I show her my mouth's teeth,
but she knows that I'm not smiling,
the light's sweet creature
to me, it depicts me when
she's sitting bored and very beautiful
and I'm only living for her
in the fierce world
under the heavenly.
her black hair is upset
her bright hand
long ago has forgotten me,-
long ago she forgot herself
how she's hanging on the chair's neck.
I drown in lights
and gnash in the year's cycle.
I show her my mouth's teeth,
but she knows that I'm not smiling,
the light's sweet creature
to me, it depicts me when
she's sitting bored and very beautiful
and I'm only living for her
in the fierce world
under the heavenly.
broken roses
Song of longing (Cantec de dor) by Nichita Stanescu
0 comentarii Publicat de Pure Wish la 4/17/2010 01:05:00 PM
I fell asleep next to your voice.
It was so good there and your warm breasts kept my temple.
I don't even remember what you were singing.
Maybe something about the branches and waters that wandered
in your night.
Or maybe your childhood that died
somewhere, under words.
I don't even remember what you were singing.
I was playing with my palms in your kinks.
They were very willful
and you weren't even noticing me.
I don't even remember why you were crying.
Maybe just like that, for the sadness of sunsets.
Or maybe for love
and kindness.
I don't remember why you were crying.
I fell asleep next to your voice and I was loving you.
It was so good there and your warm breasts kept my temple.
I don't even remember what you were singing.
Maybe something about the branches and waters that wandered
in your night.
Or maybe your childhood that died
somewhere, under words.
I don't even remember what you were singing.
I was playing with my palms in your kinks.
They were very willful
and you weren't even noticing me.
I don't even remember why you were crying.
Maybe just like that, for the sadness of sunsets.
Or maybe for love
and kindness.
I don't remember why you were crying.
I fell asleep next to your voice and I was loving you.
broken roses
The golden age of love (Varsta de aur a dragostei) by Nichita Stanescu
0 comentarii Publicat de Pure Wish la 4/17/2010 12:42:00 PM
My hands are in love,
oh, my mouth loves,
and look, I realized
that things are so close to me,
that I can barely walk through them
without hurting myself.
This is a sweet feeling,
of waking up, of dreaming,
and here I am without sleeping,
I truly see the ivory gods,
I take them in my hand and
I screw them laughing, in the moon,
like some graven handles,
how they must have been in the old days,
embellished, the ships' steering wheel.
Jupiter is yellow, and Hera
the wonderful one silvery.
I strike the wheel with a rock and it moves.
It's a dance my love, of the feelings,
goddesses of the air, between us.
And I, with my soul's sails stretched by longings,
I look for you everywhere, and things come
closer and closer,
and they clench my chest and it hurts.
broken roses
Apr 15, 2010
Woman's inscription (Inscriptie de femeie) by Tudor Arghezi
0 comentarii Publicat de Pure Wish la 4/15/2010 09:02:00 PM
The disposal of the character ordained to be
The ethereal girl, the man's wife.
The feeble dragonfly, in his hairy hand,
Is like the lily spring and cypress.
She likes him because he's okay and tough- and trump,
He doesn't hesitate, doesn't come late, doesn't ask,
Goes right ahead and reaches straight right,
He's loud and wise.
His endeavor and hard work for you
Make your days bigger and fuller.
His knees have crushed and his back has broken,
To deserve both his tasty dish and kiss.
From the bottom of the sea he pulls pearls in strings
For the neck of his slender and beautiful maiden.
From the night he takes bunches of stars and sparks
For bracelets, brooches, rings and earrings,
The golden stars from dry stones he gets,
Bitten by the rock's fangs and bleeding from his elbows.
It's his self sacrifice, brightened by an idea.
The idea, like fight and passion is still a woman.
They are all yours and all are for you.
Why not, then for who?
Because all the gifts for you are being brought,
Receiving a flowers instead, your fragile smile.
The creature of a petal and of a drop of dew,
Give it every morning a new joy,
Rewarding offer is his poem,
Another one sweeter and more honest, there isn't.
The ethereal girl, the man's wife.
The feeble dragonfly, in his hairy hand,
Is like the lily spring and cypress.
She likes him because he's okay and tough- and trump,
He doesn't hesitate, doesn't come late, doesn't ask,
Goes right ahead and reaches straight right,
He's loud and wise.
His endeavor and hard work for you
Make your days bigger and fuller.
His knees have crushed and his back has broken,
To deserve both his tasty dish and kiss.
From the bottom of the sea he pulls pearls in strings
For the neck of his slender and beautiful maiden.
From the night he takes bunches of stars and sparks
For bracelets, brooches, rings and earrings,
The golden stars from dry stones he gets,
Bitten by the rock's fangs and bleeding from his elbows.
It's his self sacrifice, brightened by an idea.
The idea, like fight and passion is still a woman.
They are all yours and all are for you.
Why not, then for who?
Because all the gifts for you are being brought,
Receiving a flowers instead, your fragile smile.
The creature of a petal and of a drop of dew,
Give it every morning a new joy,
Rewarding offer is his poem,
Another one sweeter and more honest, there isn't.
broken roses
Apr 13, 2010
It's so good that you are (Ce bine ca esti) by Nichita Stanesu
0 comentarii Publicat de Pure Wish la 4/13/2010 09:51:00 PM
It's a chance of my being:
and then, the happiness inside of me
is stronger than me, than my bones,
which you screech in an embrace
always painful, always wonderful.
Let's talk, let's say words,
long, glassy, like chisels which divide
the cold river from the hot delta,
the day from the night, the basalt from basalt.
Take me, happiness, up, and strike
my temple from the stars, until
my prolonged world and the endless
column is made or something else
a lot taller, and a lot sooner.
It's so good that you are, it's so strange that I am!
Two different songs, hitting, mixing with each other,
two colors which have never met before,
one from the very low, turned to the ground,
one from the very top, almost broken
in the cold, incomparable fight
of the miracle that you are, of the chance that I am.
and then, the happiness inside of me
is stronger than me, than my bones,
which you screech in an embrace
always painful, always wonderful.
Let's talk, let's say words,
long, glassy, like chisels which divide
the cold river from the hot delta,
the day from the night, the basalt from basalt.
Take me, happiness, up, and strike
my temple from the stars, until
my prolonged world and the endless
column is made or something else
a lot taller, and a lot sooner.
It's so good that you are, it's so strange that I am!
Two different songs, hitting, mixing with each other,
two colors which have never met before,
one from the very low, turned to the ground,
one from the very top, almost broken
in the cold, incomparable fight
of the miracle that you are, of the chance that I am.
broken roses
;;
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