"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.