Verses by Vasile Alecsandri, translated by Julia Kalman
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Love
Alas! the bitterness in me,
Brother Constantine, dear to be.
Chills are wicked, I confess,
Love, however, is far less.
Chills may cool your fervent heat,
Love will make your senses fleet,
Ignite you, steal away your mind,
Reach you with desires, fervent, entwined.
Woe is me! What a sin!
Love, with its enchanting din,
In three days, has drained me thin;
Withered me, left me frail,
Like an oak, once proud and hale,
When touched by frost or fervent flame,
Consumed by passion’s wild claim.
Alas! dear, beloved brother,
I’m passing away, like dew, another
Lost in the morning flower’s kiss,
Or the foam that the proud sun bliss.
Dig me a grave in the cool earth,
For my heart aches, losing its mirth.
The Stars
From me to you, the distance wide,
Filled with stars, a cosmic tide!
But what are these stars we see?
They’re my tears, set free.
From my eyes, they took flight,
Adorning the heavens, a celestial sight.
Like dewdrops on flowers, at morn,
They cling to the sky, reborn.
I’ve shed many for my land,
A fate that I understand.
Many for those who roam,
Deprived of a earthly home.
Tears of lamentation, a flowing stream,
Yet, for sweet joy, it may seem,
Ah! Only two I’ve let descend,
And both of them, like stars, transcend.
Seville, 1853
The Fir Tree
Upon the hill, the green fir stands tall,
Beneath the snowy white pall.
Amidst the mist, it gets lost,
A ghostly figure, frost-touched, almost.
And it gazes with a solemn air,
Watching winter’s play unfair,
As it ambles through the brush and brier,
Winter, astride a bear, the snow’s attire.
It shakes itself, then speaks aloud,
“To no avail, sorceress, so proud,
You bring your tempest all in vain,
Bring days bereft of sun, in disdain.
In vain, you freeze the earth below,
Kill the flowers and the hives aglow,
Sending death upon the wind,
Sending hunger with the wolves thinned.
In vain, your breath does seize
The water in the river, to freeze,
Erasing tracks upon the path,
Binding me with a wintry wrath.
In vain, you bring along with you,
The black and predatory crow,
And from the woods of wild fright,
Elicit a howl, a mournful plight.
In vain, cruel tempest’s course,
Lengthens the dark, shadowy night’s force,
And, laughing at the world’s toil,
Shortens the day’s luminous coil.
In vain, you burden me so,
With snow and ice’s crushing blow.
Be it winter, be it summer’s gleam,
I retain my verdant dream!”
By the Hearth
Seated by the hearth at night, while the tempest swirls around,
I gaze at the fire, dear companion, cheerfully abound.
And through the blue flame of hazelnut twigs’ embrace,
I see passing in a fantastical flight, tales’ enchanting grace.
Behold a mystical bird in a fierce battle with a dragon,
See deer with stars on their foreheads, crossing a golden wagon.
Witness horses that race like thought, and winged dragons fly,
Concealing in grand palaces, princesses proud and high.
Look, mischievous fairies emerging from the dark realm,
Bringing into the white world, children with names that overwhelm.
See in the milk lake, all the heavenly nymphs…
Not far away stands Peter Pan, adorned with May laurel whimps.
But what draws me in, what enchants my soul,
Is the Beauty! In her braid, a flower does console.
Until dawn, I ponder, gazing in awe,
For she vividly recalls a marvel I once saw!
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Julia Kalman 