Silence

by Lucian Blaga - 1924

There's so much silence in the air i think i hear
the moon rays hitting in the windows.

Inside
a foreign voice awoke
and sings a song of wish
that isn't mine.

They say the ancestors who died without age,
with young blood still in veins,
with passions left in blood,
with living Sun in passions,
come,
come to live again
in us
their unlived life.

There's so much silence in the air i think i hear
the moon rays hitting in the windows.

Oh, who knows - soul, in what chest you will sing
you too again over the ages
on chords of silence sweet,
of harp of darkness, choked desires
and broken joy of living? Who knows?
Who knows?