Still have a single sigh:
In silence of the night
I beg to let me die
Near sea at the low tide;
And let my sleep be calm
And forests be nearby,
On stretched waters' balm
I'll have the clearest sky
I don’t need any flags,
Don’t want a coffin rich,
Just plait for me a rug
From the trees’ youngest branches.
And no one needs to weep
Or show the smallest grief,
Just let the autumn speak
With wet and falling leaves.
And while with noise sway
The springs among the cliffs,
The Moon will slip away
On the long tops of firs.
The cowbells pierce near sea
The colder evening wind,
My holy linden tree
Above will start to swing.
As i won’t wander off
Since then for evermore,
My memories, with love
Will snow on me galore
The Morning-Evening Stars
As then will be my friends,
Through branches of the firs
Would smile at me again.
Will moan with all the hurts
The ocean’s coarse caress...
As i will become dirt
In my last loneliness.
4 comments:
Eminescu, may God forgive him, died in 1889, when 39 years old in a mental institution, assasinated by a pretended patient, also poet because he was troubling the muddy waters of politics. At the time he was falsely diagnosed with syphilis and treated with grams of mercury a day. By some early accounts he never got to see the sea, but recent works show some letters towards his lifetime lover, Veronica Micle, sent from Constanţa, Romania, near Black Sea in the year 1882, one year before he dated this poem, one of the most beautiful ever written in Romanian.
Crunch this:
http://ro.wikisource.org/wiki/Scrisoarea_II
And the name of the guy who killed him was Poenaru ori Poienaru. Poiana means opening in the forrest in Romanian. Any thoughts? They always have to be humorous in their killings so the public may accept them easier.
However they were no firs at the Romanian side of Black Sea as i can remember...
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