Today to me, tomorrow to you [Azi mie, mâine ţie]
In me
And in you,
And in him
The heart sings the same
And weeps and it's grim.
It sings and it cries
Stuck deep in our chest.
It sings in the moment we open our eyes
And cries when our soul goes to rest.
When it sings and wind raves
We shut our sad graves.
When sings full of gloom
We shut our small room.
There is just one whim
In me
And in you
And in him.
poem by Ion Minulescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
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Sing me Gypsy [Cântă-mi lăutare]
- Sing the doina, Gypsy dear,
Of all those who went away
To new countries, far from here,
By vain wishes led astray!...
The old man, with lowered brow,
Holds his fiddle, looking pale:
- Well, this song, I tell you now,
Is not sung, for it's a wail!
- Wail it, then, to hear the tune
Of those gone for good, no doubt,
Who have left their homes too soon
And in foreign lands die out...
The old man, with dreary eyes,
Looks at me as if he's blind:
- Well, this song in life – and sighs,
Is not sung, is heard in mind.
poem by Ion Minulescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
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Song of a man [Cântecul unui om]
What I was once I am no more...
But I regret what I am now
And that I've failed, I disavow,
To be the bard I was before...
And when I hated I was hailed
And when I loved I received strife...
But I've been singing all my life
The One who on the cross was nailed...
My former hopes are but a dream,
I've gathered what I wished not for...
But all those days I can ignore –
Like some unwritten tale they seem...
If now I have a holy core,
For sure that God had this in mind –
To let me change...then try to find
The man I was, but am no more...
poem by Ion Minulescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
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Nocturne [Nocturnă]
That night the moon resembled a skull that through a blow
By guillotine was cut, then dumped into the Sea –
A head, which the dark billows, with a malicious glee
Towards the beacon rolled, which in the port did glow.
That night the moon resembled a ball of shining twine
Which fell from the right hand of God, who in this life
Ties and unties all people, forgives their sin and strife
And makes them leave the winter to meet the spring divine.
That night the moon resembled an amber nice to see
Detached from the Christ's belt, who died as a meek sheep
To rise again and banish the deep and dreamless sleep
And sanctify His cross left on the Calvary!...
poem by Ion Minulescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
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The 11th commandment [A XI-a poruncă]
Hear closely, be watchful and shush!...
Hear closely, and learn how to speak,
Behold the construction technique.
And shush, grasp the things, do not rush...
Hear closely, be watchful and shush!
When sin clings to you like a vine,
And Mermaid's sweet song charms your soul
Shut up and remain in control
And pray to the relics in shrine –
When sin clings to you like a vine!...
When feel that your foe makes you sigh,
And faith slowly withers away,
Be patient, you'll triumph one day,
Don't let your mind's candle to die –
When feel that your foe makes you sigh!
When pain strikes your arms more and more,
Don't think that you start to get old,
[...] Read more
poem by Ion Minulescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
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