George Bacovia
© 2000-2012  by All rights reserved.
Autumn Nerves
Autumn, and rustling, sleepiness ...
Trees an the street heave sighs;
Coughing, weeping, emptiness ...
And it's cold, and it drizzles.
George Bacovia (1881-1957)
Nervi de Toamna
E toamna, e fosnet, e somn ...
Copacii, pe strada, ofteaza;
E tuse, e planset, e gol ...
Si-i frig, si bureaza.
Amantii, mai bolnavi, mai tristi,
Pe drumuri fac gesturi ciudate -
Iar frunze de vesnicul somn
Cad grele, udate.
Sicker, sadder, the lovers make
Queer gestures on the streets -
Now leaves fall, soaked and heavy,
From everlasting sleep.
I wait, and move on, and come back,
Profoundly saddened by the lovers -
I feel like laughing senselessly,
And it's cold, and it drizzles.
Eu stau si ma duc, si ma-ntorc,
Si-amantii profund ma-ntristeaza -
Imi vine sa rad fara sens,
Si-i frig, si bureaza.