George Bacovia
© 2000-2012  by All rights reserved.
Winter Lead
And again ... the same hour in the morning ...
The same secret smoulders over everything;
A violet cold, and the face is creased -
- O, how concrete has man become ...
George Bacovia (1881-1957)
Plumb de Iarna
Si iar ... aceeasi ora de dimineata ...
Pe toate mocnind acelasi secret;
Un frig violet, si fata e creata -
- O, cum omul a devenit concret ...
Lungi plictiseli in turnurile sumbre ...
Noian de superstitii, cu hohot sec, tarziu;
- Vei merita o lampa-n mohorate umbre
Si corbii azvarliti de-al noptilor pustiu.
Long tedium in sombre towers ... A mass
Of superstitions, with a dry, late cackle;
- You will deserve a lamp in dreary shadows
And ravens hurled by wilderness of nights.
If in the stormy night you can command
A glum acceptance, or a secret humour -
They'll hear in the towers, they'll see how it snows ...
- O, how concrete man become ...
In noaptea viforoasa de vei putea invinge
O trista-ngaduire, sau un humor secret -
Vor auzi in turnuri, se vor uita cum ninge ...
- O, cum omul a devenit concret ...