| George Bacovia |
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| Final Poem |
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| I must drink, to forget what nobody knows Hidden in the deep cellar, without saying a word Alone to smoke there unknown by anyone Otherwise, it's hard on earth ... |
| 1881-1957 |
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| Poema Finala |
| Eu trebuie sa beau, sa uit ceea ce nu stie nimeni, Ascuns in pivnita adanca, fara a spune un cuvant. Singur sa fumez acolo, nestiut de nimeni, Altfel, e greu pe pamant ... |
| Pe strada urle viata, si moartea, Si planga poetii poema lor vana ... Stiu. Dar foamea grozava nu-i gluma, nu-i vis - Plumb, si furtuna, pustiu, Finis ... Istorie contemporana ... E timpul ... toti nervii ma dor ... O, vino odata, maret viitor. |
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| On the street life shouts, and death, And may the poets weep over their vain poem ... I know ... But the terrible hunger is no joke, no dream - Lead, and storm, waste, Finis ... Contemporary history ... It's time ... all my nerves want you ... O, come at once, magnificent future. |
| I must leave, to forget what noboby knows Upset by bourgeois crimes, whithout saying a word Alone to lose myself in the world unknown by anyone Otherwise, it's hard on earth ... |
| Eu trebuie sa plec, sa uit ceea ce nu stie nimeni, Mihnit de crimele burgheze fara a spune un cuvant, Singur sa ma pierd in lume, nestiut de nimeni, Altfel, e greu pe pamant ... |