George Bacovia
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Dusk
Like vast tears of blood
Leaves from the branches flow -
And slowly the bloodied dusk
Penetrates the window.
1881-1957
George Bacovia (1881-1957)
Amurg
Ca lacrimi mari de sange
Curg frunzele de pe ramuri, -
Si-nsangerat, amurgul
Patrunde-ncet prin geamuri.
Pe dealurile-albastre,
De sange urca luna,
De sange pare lacul,
Mai ros ca-ntotdeauna.
Over the blue hills
A moon of blood rises,
The lake looks like blood,
A deeper red always.
At the window, in the sick
Dusk, a girl coughs.
And now her handkerchief
Looks like the flowing leaves.
La geam tuseste-o fata
In bolnavul amurg;
Si s-a facut batista
Ca frunzele ce curg.