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A few words about Mihai Eminescu ...

M. Eminescu (his proper name was M. Eminovici - pron.: Eminovitch) is


regarded as the national poet of Romania. Born in Botosani he died at the age of
38 years in Bucharest, suffering from paralysis the last five years of his life.
From 1869 to 1874 he studied philosophy in Vienna and Berlin, later on
working as librarian, superintendent of elementary schools and newspaper
editor. In his short life he could not realize so many of his literary drafts
(poetries, stories, fairytales etc.). Only a small part of his work was published
during his lifetime ("Poezii" 1883).
He was most loved for his pieces dealing with nature, and love, and for his "lyric
of thoughts ", deeply melancholy and full of "Weltschmerz" and longing
for death. His lyric infact has a very proper and touching melody. As he had
studied the german philosophers and poets, his work was influenced by
them (Schopenhauer). He transferred several works of german poets like
Friedrich Schiller into the Romanian language. In contrary e.g. to Sándor Petöfi,
the great national poet of Hungary (see this site), Eminescu ran an academic
education: Maybe this and the fact romanian poetry´s grammar being rather
artificial and differing to a great extent from spoken or even written (prose)
language is the cause these poems having a somewhat sophisticated touch.
Nevertheless the lyric of Eminescu, is very popular and appreciated by the
people - children learn it at school. We love his poetry since long knowing quite
some of it by heart!
The Lake (Lacul)

Water lilies load all over


The blue lake amid the woods,
That imparts, while in white circles
Startling, to a boat its moods.

And along the strands I'm passing


Listening, waiting, in unrest,
That she from the reeds may issue
And fall, gently, on my breast;

That we may jump in the little


Boat, while water's voices whelm
All our feelings; that enchanted
I may drop my oars and helm;

That all charmed we may be floating


While moon's kindly light surrounds
Us, winds cause the reeds to rustle
And the waving water sounds.

But she does not come; abandoned,


Vainly I endure and sigh
Lonely, as the water lilies
On the blue lake ever lie.

(Translated by Dimitrie Cuclin


One Wish Alone Have I (Mai am un singur dor)

One wish alone have I:


In some calm land
Beside the sea to die;
Upon its strand;
That I forever sleep,
The forest near,
A heaven clear,
Stretched over the peaceful deep.
No candles shine,
Nor tomb I need, instead
Let them for me a bed
Of twigs entwine.

That no one weeps my end,


Nor for me grieves,
But let the autumn lend
Tongues to the leaves,
When brooklet ripples fall
With murmuring sound,
And moon is found
Among the pine-trees tall,
While softly rings
The wind its trembling chime
And over me the lime
Its blossom flings.

As I will then no more


A wanderer be,
Let them with fondness store
My memory.
And Lucifer the while,
Above the pine.
Good comrade mine,
Will on me gently smile;
In mournful mood,
The sea sings sad refrain ...
And I be earth again
In solitude.

(Transl. by Corneliu M. Popescu)


And if...

And if the branches tap my pane


And the poplars whisper nightly,
It is to make me dream again
I hold you to me tightly.

And if the stars shine on the pond


And light its sombre shoal,
It is to quench my mind's despond
And flood with peace my soul.

And if the clouds their tresses part


And does the moon outblaze,
It is but to remind my heart
I long for you always.

(Transl. by Angela Clark, London, UK.)


Evening Star (Luceafărul)

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.

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