How strange I am from my country,

And no longing missed me,

Bad thought, and dark

Closes the voice of the right.

It will be late that day…

And in my way haunts

Silences of time, sinister hungry !

Or songs that always cry:

“Hurry, don’t wait anymore !”

George Bacovia, Dies Irae

Note:

dies irae = day of wrath (Latin)

When anything is sold,

When everything is merchandise –

Awakens an old sound

From the ancient harp.

From the goblets, wine of oblivion,

Let it be the scarf of virtue –

Awakens an old sound

From the ancient harp.

George Bacovia, Legenda

translated from Romanian by Marcel Rus

The rich sands

Have filled the bay, and we

Waiting for a sign of departure… Now,

The sky is clear and the birds,

Why don’t birds sing anymore ?

Oh, even the rum

From the green

Moon

Sounds a bit like a whisper.

Sing friends and freely lift

The canvas !

On the black hills

Laughs

The eagle owl.

Sing… Only you don’t know

The wind is good and the sailing vessel

Rests on the sand.

Iosif Caraiman, Corabia

translated from Romanian by Marcel Rus