As we decided to publish the first issue in the honor of Mihai Eminescu, Romanian poet, who now is part of the universal literature patrimony, together with W. Shakespeare, F. Dostoievski, F. Villon, H. de Balzac, and many others, we'd like to present a few poems in advance, courtesy of www.poetrysoup.com. We will also publish a biography on Jan 15th 2016. WHAT IS LOVE? What is love ? A lifetime spent Of days that pain does fill, That thousand tears can't content, But asks for tears still. With but a little glance coquet Your soul it knows to tie, That of its spell you can't forget Until the day you die. Upon your threshold does it stand, In every nook conspire, That you may whisper hand in hand Your tale of heart's aspire. Till fades the very earth and sky, Your heart completely broken, And all the world hangs on a sigh, A word but partly spoken. It follows you for weeks and weeks And in your soul assembles The memory of blushing cheeks And eyelash fair that trembles. It comes to you a sudden ray As though of starlight's spending, How many and many a time each day And every night unending. For of your life has fate decreed That pain shall it enfold, As does the clinging water-weed About a swimmer hold. -------- English version by Corneliu M. Popescu Transcribed by Alina Micu School No. 10, Focsani, Romania http://www.poetrysoup.com/famous/poem/21487/what_is_love Written permission from www.poetrysoup.com WITH LIFE’S TOMORROW TIME YOU GRASP With life's tomorrow time you grasp, Its yesterdays you fling away, And still, in spite of all remains Its long eternity, today. When one thing goes, another comes In this wide world by heaven borne; And when the sun is setting here 'Tis somewhere else just breaking dawn. It seems somehow that other waves Are rolling down the same old stream, And somehow, tough the autumns change, 'Tis but the same leaves fall it seem. Before our night does ever ride The queen of mornings rosy skies; While even death is but a guess, Of life a notion, a surmise. Of every moment that goes by One fact each mortal creature knows; The universe is poised in time And whirling round for ever goes. Still, though this year will fly away And soon but to the bygone add, Within your soul you ever hold Each thing of worth you ever had. With life's tomorrow time you grasp, Its yesterday you fling away, And still, in spite of all remains Its long eternity, today. A radiant and brilliant view, In many rapid glimpses caught, Of infinite, unending calm, Bathed in the rays of timeless thought. ------- English version by Corneliu M. Popescu Transcribed by Liviu Buftea School No. 10, Focsani, Romania EVENING STAR There was, as in the fairy tales, As ne'er in the time's raid, There was, of famous royal blood A most beautiful maid. She was her parents' only child, Bright like the sun at noon, Like the Virgin midst the saints And among stars the moon. From the deep shadow of the vaults Her step now she directs Toward a window; at its nook Bright Evening-star expects. She looks as in the distant seas He rises, darts his rays And leads the blackish, loaded ships On the wet, moving, ways. To look at him every night Her soul her instincts spur; And as he looks at her for weeks He falls in love with her. And as on her elbows she leans Her temple and her whim She feels in her heart and soul that She falls in love with him. And ev'ry night his stormy flames More stormily renew When in the shadow of the castle She shows to his bright view. * * And to her room with her slow steps He bears his steps and aims Weaving out of his sparkles cold A toil of shaking flames. And when she throws upon her bed Her tired limbs and reposes, He glides his light along her hands And her sweet eyelash closes. And from the mirror on her shape A beam has spread and burns, On her big eyes that beat though closed And on her face that turns. Her smiles view him; the mirror shows Him trembling in the nook For he is plunging in her dream So that their souls may hook. She speaks with him in sleep and sighs While her heart's swelled veins drum: -"O sweet Lord of my fairy nights, Why comest thou not? Come! Descend to me, mild Evening-star Thou canst glide on a beam, Enter my dwelling and my mind And over my life gleam!" And he listens and trembles and Still more for her love craves And as quick as the lightning he Plunges into the waves. The water in that very spot Moves rolling many rings And out of the unknown, dark, depth A superb young man springs. As on a threshold o'er the sill His hasty steps he leads, Holds in his hand a staff with, at Its top, a crown of reeds! A young Voivode he seems to be With soft and golden hair; A blue shroud binds in a knot on His naked shoulder fair. The shade of his face is of wax And thou canst see throughout - A handsome dead man with live eyes That throw their sparkles out. -"From my sphere hardly I come to Follow thy call and thee, The heaven is my father and My mother is the sea. So that I could come to thy room And look at thee from near With my light reborn from waves my Fate toward thee I steer. O come, my treasure wonderful And thy world leave aside; For I am Evening-star up from And thou wouldst be my bride. In my palace of coral I'll Take thee for evermore And the entire world of the sea Will kneel before thy door. " -"O thou art beautiful as but In dreams an angel shows, The way though thou hast oped for me For me's for ever close. Thy port and mien and speech are strange Life thy gleams don't impart, For I'm alive and thou art dead And thy eyes chill my heart. " * * Days have past since: but Evening-star Comes up againd and stays Just as before, spreading o'er her His clear, translucent rays. In sleep she would remember him And, as before, her whole Wish for the Master of the waves Is clinching now her soul. -"Descend to me, mild Evening-star Thou canst glide on a beam, Enter my dwelling and my mind And over my life gleam!" He hears: and from the dire despair Of such an woeful weird He dies, and the heavens revolve Where he has disappeared. Soon in the air flames ruddy spread, The world in their grip hold; A superb form the spasms of the Chaotic valleys mold. On his locks of black hair he bears His crown a fierce fire frames; He floats as he really comes Swimming in the sun's flames. His black shroud lets develop out His arms marbly and hale; He pensively and sadly brings His face awfully pale. But his big wonderful eyes' gleam, Chimerically deep, Shows two unsatiated spasms That but into dark peep. -"From my sphere hardly I come to Follow thy voice, thy sight; The bright sun is my father and My mother is the night. O come, my treasure wonderful And thy world leave aside For I am Evening-star from up And thou wouldst be my bride. O come, and upon thy blond hair Crowns of stars I shall crowd, And more that all of them, up there, Thou wild look fair and proud. " -"O thou art beautiful as but In dreams a demon shows, The way though hast oped for me For me's for ever close. The depths of my breast ache from the Desire of thy fierce love My heavy, big eyes also ache When into them thine shove". -"But how wouldst thou that I come down? Know this - for, do I lie? -: I am immortal, while thou art One of those that must die!" -"I hate big words, nor do I know How to begin my plea; And although thy discourse is clear I don't understand thee. But if thou wantest my flamed love And that would not be sham, Come down on this temporal earth, Be mortal as I am!" -"I'd lose my immortality For but one kiss of thine! Well, I will show thee how much too For thy fierce love I pine! Yes, I shall be reborn from sin, Receive another creed: From that endlessness to which I Am tied, I shall be freed!" And out he went, he went, went out, Loving a human fay, He plucked himself off from the sky, Went for many a day. * * Meanwhile, the house-boy, Catalin, Sly, and who often jests When he's filling with wine the cups Of the banqueting guests; A page that carries step by step The trail of the Queen's gown, A wandering bastard, but bold Like no one in the town; His little cheek - a peony That under the sun stews; Watchful, just like a thief, he sneaks In Catalina's views. -"How beautiful she grew" - thinks he - "A flower just to pluck! Now, Catalin, but now it is Thy chance to try thy luck!" And by the way, hurriedly, he Corners that human fay: -"What's with thee, Catalin? Let me Alone and go thy way!" -"No! I want thee to stay away From thoughts that have no fun. I want to see thee only laugh, Give me a kiss, just one!" -"I don't know what it is about And, believe me, retire! But for one Evening-star up from I've kept my strong desire!" -"If thou dost not know I could show Thee all about love's balm! Only, don't give way to thy ire And listen and be calm. So as the hunter throws the net That many birds would harm, When I'll stretch my left arm to thee, Enlace me with thy arm. Under my eyes keep thine and don't Let them move on their wheels And if I lift thee by the waist Thou must lift on thy heels. When I bend down my face, to hold Thine up must be thy strife; So, to each other we could throw Sweet, eager, looks for life. And so that thou have about love A knowledge true and plain, When I stoop to kiss thee, thou must Kiss me too and again. " With much bewilderment her mind The little boy's word fills, And shyly and nicely now she Wills not, and now she wills. And slowly she tells him:- "Since thy Childhood I've known thy wit, And as thou art and glib and small My temper thou wouldst fit. But Evening-star sprung from the calm Of the oblivion, Though, gives horizon limitless To the sea lone and dun. And secretly, I close my eyes For my eyelash tears dim When the waves of the sea go on Travelling toward him. He shines with love unspeakable So that my pains he'd leach, But higher and higher soars, so That his hand I'd ne'er reach. Sadly thrusts from the worlds which from My soul his cold ray bar. . . I shall love him for ever and For ever he'll rove far. Like the unmeasured steppes my days Are deaf and wild, therefore, But my nights spread a holy charm I understand no more!" -"Thou art a child! Let's go! Through new Lands our own fate let's frame! Soon they shall have lost our trace and Forgot even our name! We shall be both wise, glad and whole As my judgement infers And thou wouldst not long for thy kin Nor yearn for Evening-stars!" * * Then Evening-star went out. His wings Grow, into heavens dash, And on his way millenniums Flee in less than a flash. Below, a depth of stars; above, The heaven stars begem, - He seems an endless lightning that Is wandering through them. And from the Chaos' vales he sees How in an immense ring Round him, as in the World's first day, Lights from their sources spring; How, springing, they hem him like an Ocean that swimming nears. . . He flees carried by his desire Until he disappears. For that region is boundless and Searching regards avoids And Time strive vainly there to come To life from the dark voids. 'Tis nought. 'Tis, though, thirst that sips him And which he cannot shun, 'Tis depth unknown, comparable To blind oblivion. -"From that dark, choking, endlessness Into which I am furled, Father, undo me, and for e'er Be praised in the whole world! Ask anything for this new fate For with mine I am through: O hear my prayer, O my Lord, for Thou gives life and death too. Take back my endlessness, the fires That my being devour And in return give me a chance To love but for an hour! I've come from Chaos; I'd return To that my former nest. . . And as I have been brought to life From rest, I crave for rest!" -"Hyperion, that comest from The depths with the world's swarm, Do not ask signs and miracles That have no name nor form. Thou wantest to count among men, Take their resemblance vain; But would now the whole mankind die Men will be born again. But they are building on the wind Ideals void and blind; When human waves run into graves New waves spring from behind. Fate's persecutions, lucky stars, They only are to own; Here we know neither time nor space, Death we have never known. From the eternal yesterday Drinks what to-day will drain And if a sun dies on the sky A sun quickens again. Risen as for ever, death though Follows them like a thorn For all are born only to die And die to be reborn. But thou remainest wheresoe'er Thou wouldst set down or flee. Thou art of the prime form and an Eternal prodigy. Thou wilt now hear the wondrous voice At whose bewitched singing Mounts woody get skipping to skies Into sea Island sinking! Perhaps thou wilt more: show in deeds Thy sense of justice, might, Out of the earth's lumps make an empire And settle on its height! I can give thee millions of vessels And hosts; thou, bear thy breath O'er all the lands, o'er all the oceans: I cannot give thee death. For whom thou wantest then to die? Just go and see what's worth All that is waiting there for thee On that wandering earth!" * * His first dominion on the sky Hyperion restores And like in his first day, his light All o'er again he pours. For it is evening and the night Her duty never waives. Now the moon rises quietly And shaking from the waves, And upon the paths of the groves Her sparkles again drone. . . Under the row of linden-trees Two youths sit all alone. -"O darling, let my blessed ear feel How thy heart's pulses beat, Under the ray of thy eyes clear And unspeakably sweet. With the charms of their cold light pierce My thought's faery glades, Pour an eternal quietness On my passion's dark shades. And there, above, remain to stop Thy woe's violet stream, For thou art my first source of love And also my last dream!" Hyperion beholds how love Their eyes equally charms: Scarcely his arm touches her neck, She takes him in her arms. The silvery blooms spread their smells And their soft cascade strokes The tops of the heads of both youths With long and golden locks. And all bewitched by love, she lifts Her eyes toward the fires Of the witnessing Evening-star And trusts him her desires: -"Descend to me, mild Evening-star Thou canst glide on a beam, Enter my forest and my mind And o'er my good luck gleam!" As he did it once, into woods, On hills, his rays he urges, Guiding throughout so many wilds The gleaming, moving, surges. But he falls not as he did once From his height into swells: -"What matters thee, clod of dust, if 'Tis me or some one else? You live in your sphere's narrowness And luck rules over you - But in my steady world I feel Eternal, cold and true!" ----------------- Poezii Romanian Voice
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