Verses by Mihai Eminescu, translated by Julia Kalman
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My Mouth, Your Lips
On my knees, I bore you, tender and sweet,
Looked into your eyes, our gazes did meet.
My mouth, your lips it sought to find,
And I embarked on a journey, kissing unconfined.
Who teaches me, in love entwined?
Like a mother gentle and serene,
Caressing my forehead, a vision so keen.
You held me close in your loving embrace,
Oh, how much I love you, in this enchanted space.
Who teaches me, in love’s embrace?
I depart, leaving you behind,
Don’t look at my shadow, unbind.
Imagine
Off to the theater, I make my way,
Stay, let me see how you smile today.
In the Romanian theater, Elisa Müller holds sway.
I’m but a naughty child, confess,
Speak it firmly, put it to the test.
You attached this word so tight,
To my entire life, with all your might.
You gave it blushing, crying,
When you were, peculiarly, implying.
Ah, smile at me once more,
Don’t be stern, I implore.
For with my little finger so light,
I touch your lips, a gesture slight.
Whisper
And whisper me a tiny lore,
Let no one else hear, I implore.
Today is Sunday, a day of grace,
Hush! A good one, I embrace.
I leave you, and it’s fine,
Let me be crazy, it’s a benign decline.
Pull me by the sleeve with grace,
What do you know of falsehood, in this space?
You don’t know, oh, nightingale,
What I hear, a lovely tale.
You think of something grand,
And gaze at me, where I stand.
Ah, Beloved
Ah, beloved little one, frail,
How I adore you, a heartfelt hail!
A nothing, a little word,
Spoken behind the curtain stirred,
Is a ring’s precious stone,
Is the night’s frost, cold and lone.
It burns so bright, unheard,
I’d kindle a star with its record.
And then, you fall silent, beware,
Lest a flower overhear.
That you whispered such a thing,
From your secret lair it might bring,
A blush so rare, quite unfair.
My Love
As an unknown someone might declare.
How you look, bewildered, dazed,
In solitary thoughts, you’re phased.
You are day beside the walnut tree,
You are night in the groves, wild and free.
Let me take you, let’s be crazed,
To a world where only “us” is praised.
And then, we shall not speak at all,
Words are but chaff, they enthrall.
When two hearts love, deeply sore,
In silence, they’ll speak, evermore.
So we hush, hush, crouching small,
In the night, in the woods, enchanted and tall.
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Julia Kalman 