Verses by Vasile Alecsandri, translated by Julia Kalman
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The Legend of Our Lady’s Tears’
I
In heaven, no delightful wonder did miss.
The air serene, coolness, lilies’ scented bliss.
For the ever-blooming chalices so pure,
Exhaled endless aromas, a fragrance to endure.
The light was gentle, inviting soft whispers,
Night never followed day, nor day followed nights.
Through trees, birds sang; through the air, angels flew,
Unheard were the world’s sorrows; the sky refused their clues.
Engraved on the heavens, leaves, and the ground,
“No shadow of sorrow here shall be found.”
On green, beautiful riverbanks, crystal-clear streams,
Gentle, loving, happy souls reside in serene dreams.
Savoring heavenly peace, enchanting garden’s grace,
Every moment embraced eternity’s warm embrace.
A sweet shelter of tranquility, an enchanting land,
Possessing every wonder, yet lacking a flower so grand.
II
And here arrives a guest from the earthly sphere,
A soul, white and young, on a cloud of sweet perfume near.
All souls step forward, greeting with smiles so tender,
Welcoming with soft words, in a delicate splendor.
They say, “In our heaven, you’ve arrived, dear child!
Soon departed from life, are you not beguiled?”
“No, for I traded a fleeting earthly breath,
For an eternal one, in happiness, not death.”
“Do you not miss the earthly world at all?”
“No, for I prefer the expanses of the celestial hall.”
How? Do you not leave behind a mournful tale?”
“Ah! I leave behind a dear mother, a love so frail.
Forever, after her, I’ll weep in sorrow!”
Saying this, the child weeps, no comfort to borrow,
And his warm tears transform into glistening, divine,
And… since then, heaven lacks not a single flower’s shine!
The Legend of the Swallow
I
Swallow, oh swallow,
Why tap at my window?
Go, put on your gown,
For the heat will burn you down,
Winds will blow you away,
And rains will drench your play.
Go to the green field,
Where your gown has bloomed,
Where the herds tread,
And the sheep are groomed.
(Folk Song)
II
When the joyful Swallow was born into the world,
She lacked the form and wings of a bird unfurled.
A sweet creation of the marriage rite,
A darling child of a great emperor’s delight.
A beautiful wonder, smiling and fair,
Descended among mortals like sunlight in the air.
A delicate treasure formed from the clear,
From rays, perfumes, a lily’s white veneer.
Her tender mother, gazing with fear,
Feared she’d vanish into the sky, a star so clear.
A fairy descended from celestial space,
To enchant, cradle, and gently embrace,
To bestow sweet charms, treasures rare,
To shield her life from the world’s despair.
She placed her in a bath of untouched water,
Unseen by rain, untouched by the sun’s quarter.
In the warm water, with fragrant wood,
A reed, a honeycomb, and a peony bud.
Guiding, through gentle whispers’ flow,
The child to become tall like the green reed,
With a voice as sweet as honey’s glow,
And captivating as the proud peony seed.
Then, the fairy brought her a white dress,
Woven from living rays, adorned with stars no less.
She said, “Wear it always, my lovely child,
And be the world’s beauty, adored and beguiled.
Flee into the vastness, where the lark does fly,
For he seeks beauty in every form nigh,
In fair young maidens, love’s treasures,
Half girls, half flowers, and ethereal measures.
On nymphs born in a warm atmosphere,
Bathing under the moon’s mist, their laughter sincere,
And even the full moon, with its soft light,
Touching the green grass with its robes so white.”
The enchanted girl, listening in awe,
Smiled, then, looking back, fled in awe,
A winged princess, chased by butterflies,
Forming a winged crown upon her brow.
III
Dream, moonlit heavens! Under the dream of moon,
Flowers, waters, nests, and hearts dream together soon.
No leaf stirring, no breath of the night,
Disturbs the fleeting mysteries of the sweet moonlight.
The bee sleeps hidden in the poppy’s trance,
The heron among lilies keeps still, in a trance,
And the silver beam, detached from the stars above,
Falls like a long arrow, igniting golden love.
Who now, like a ray, soars through the night?
Which shadow, with timidity, sneaks through the light?
Walking toward the stream by the valley side?
Pausing frequently, her steps in stride?
She comes to the water, lovingly gazes,
And, alone in coolness, prepares to bathe with amazement.
Oh, white enchantress! Divine fascination!
Her wet breasts glisten with a virgin reflection.
She gazes at herself in the water’s flow,
Mirrored in the moon, in a soft afterglow,
Her shadow, ethereal, with rounded forms so rare,
Swaying gently through the air.
IV
In the distance, a rooster plays a fanfare,
The girl, in haste, emerges from the water’s lair.
Ah! Where is her little dress, and where is her fortune?
She sees the flying one with eyes ablaze, with motion so fine.
The one who comes to embrace her with arms in a rush;
But suddenly, a flutter of wings is heard,
And the radiant princess, vanishing from his clutch,
Transforms into a swallow, fleeing into the azure herd.
Then her little dress, lifted by the breeze,
Dissolves into rain of rays with such ease,
And, by the dawn’s arrival, they’ve grown into flowers,
Adorning the spring with their swallowtail bowers!
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Julia Kalman 