"Time will come and time will fly; All is old, but new in kind", Mihai Eminescu - the Romanian National Poet

Mihai Eminescu, 15th of January 1850 - 15th of June 1898

        On 15th of January , there are 162 since Mihai Eminescu, the Romanian national poet, named "the great Briton", was born. 
        We  celebrate him remembering his poems...

The evening star

There was, as in the fairy tales,
As ne'er in the time's raid,
There was, of famous royal blood
A most beautiful maid.

She was her parents' only child,
Bright like the sun at noon,
Like the Virgin midst the saints
And among stars the moon.

From the deep shadow of the vaults
Her step now she directs
Toward a window; at its nook
Bright Evening-star expects.

She speaks with him in sleep and sighs
While her heart's swelled veins drum:
-"O sweet Lord of my fairy nights,
Why comest thou not? Come!

Descend to me, mild Evening-star
Thou canst glide on a beam,
Enter my dwelling and my mind
And over my life gleam!"

And he listens and trembles and
Still more for her love craves
And as quick as the lightning he
Plunges into the waves.


-"From my sphere hardly I come to
Follow thy call and thee,
The heaven is my father and
My mother is the sea.

So that I could come to thy room
And look at thee from near
With my light reborn from waves my
Fate toward thee I steer.

O come, my treasure wonderful
And thy world leave aside;
For I am Evening-star up from
And thou wouldst be my bride.

In my palace of coral I'll
Take thee for evermore
And the entire world of the sea
Will kneel before thy door."

-"O thou art beautiful as but
In dreams an angel shows,
The way though thou hast oped for me
For me's for ever close.

Thy port and mien and speech are strange
Life thy gleams don't impart,
For I'm alive and thou art dead
And thy eyes chill my heart."

"Evening star", sculpture in wood done by Dr. Nour & Vasile Crisan, 2001

Take back my endlessness, the fires
That my being devour
And in return give me a chance
To love but for an hour!

I've come from Chaos; I'd return
To that my former nest...
And as I have been brought to life
From rest, I crave for rest!"


-"Descend to me, mild Evening-star
Thou canst glide on a beam,
Enter my forest and my mind
And o'er my good luck gleam!"

As he did it once, into woods,
On hills, his rays he urges,
Guiding throughout so many wilds
The gleaming, moving, surges.

But he falls not as he did once
From his height into swells:
-"What matters thee, clod of dust, if
'Tis me or some one else?

You live in your sphere's narrowness
And luck rules over you -
But in my steady world I feel
Eternal, cold and true!"

Mihai Eminescu and his love, Veronica Micle

Stay with me

Stay with me, o stay for ever,
I love you so much, my dear!
All your longing, all your yearning
Only I can truly hear;

In the darkness of the shadows
You appear as in the guise
Of a prince who sounds the waters
With his dark and gentle eyes;

"Stay with me", sculpture in wood, done by Dr. Nour & Vasile Crisan, 2001

Whereas I, through the waves’ roaring,
Through the swaying of tall grass,
Teach you how to hear the secret
The great herds of deer that pass.

I see you enrapt in magic,
Humming a heart-soothing lay,
While your naked feet touch lightly
The bright water of some bay.

"Veronica Micle",  sculpture in wood done by Dr. Nour & Vasile Crisan, 2001 

The story of the linden tree

(...) O’ver the valley’s half-hid pathways
To the boundless woods she flies
When the purple beams of twilight
Glimmer lifeless in the skies.

In mid-forest stops the palfrey
Near the tall and ancient lime
Where one hears a magic fountain
Sound like music put to rhyme 

Hearing the soul-soothing murmur,
She awakes and by her side
She beholds the young Prince Charming
On a coal-black steed astride.

He regards her with his gentle
Misty eyes in dreamland born,
Linden blooms in his black hair,
At his hip a silver horn.

 "Linden tree", engraving in wood done by Dr. Nour, 2001

He then blew it sweetly, faintly,
As if bound by some strong spell
With the handsome stranger’s yearning
Her young heart began to swell.

When his hair did touch her tresses,
Crimson grew at once her cheek,
And she lowered her long lashes
O’ver her eyes, devout and meek.

 "Linden tree", engraving in wood done by Dr. Nour, 2001

Half concealed and half courageous,
A smile flitted on her mouth
And it parted, e’ver so slightly,
Lips that burnt with amorous drouth.

She lies down supine beside him
And her head is on his breast;
While the horses graze at leisure,
In his looks her eyes seek rest.

Save that from the magic fountain
The uncanny purling rolls
And subdues with its soft sadness
Their already drunken souls.

From the woods the Moon emerges
To give Night a fairy show –
She depicts black, murky shadows
On a field as white as snow.

Linden tree", engraving in wood done by Dr. Nour, 2001

Lengthens them as she is climbing,
Shifts them here and shifts them there,
But they vanish in the forest
And their lives are lost for ever.

At the castle-gate the palfrey
Waits, all foaming, the next day,
But his beauteous, peerless mistress
From her home is far away.

"O, mother", sculpture in wood done by Dr. Nour & Vasile Crisan, 2001

Oh, mother, my sweet mother

Oh mother, my sweet mother, from misty time’s unrest,
While leaves so gently rustle, you call me to your breast
Above the crypt so gloomy of your most sacred tomb
Acacias shed their leafage, with wind and autumn’s brume,
Your sights their branches echo; when waving, woe they pour…
E’ermore will they be waving, and you will sleep e’ermore.

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