George Bacovia
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Cold
I'm near a broken fence,
And the wind is beating with wet
Leaves. I'm uglier, wasted.
The cold sweats on the glass.
1881-1957
George Bacovia (1881-1957)
Frig
Sant langa un gard rupt,
Si vantul bate cu frunze ude -
Sant mai urat, sant supt,
Frigul incepe sticla s-o asude.
Pe strada aplecata la vale
E-o toamna ca o poezie veche -
Vantul impinge fusta femeilor in cale,
Cu una din ele nu mai putem fi o pereche.
On the street that slopes downhill
It's an autumn like an old poem -
Women's skirts pushed by the wind, I can
No longer be a couple with one of them.
Autumn tears posters and flowers,
It's sadder still far off in ravines -
Light the fire several times a day;
Oh, it must be sadder still far off in ravines ...
Flakes of snow wandering ...
Toamna rupe afise si flori,
E mai trist departe-n prapastii -
Sa faceti foc pe zi de mai multe ori;
O, trebuie sa fie trist departe-n prapastii ...
Fulgi de zapada ratacitori ...