Verses by Lucian Blaga, translated by Julia Kalman
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I truly cherish the interaction of authentic readers. Thank you very much!
Rose, your beauty
spares me not. I deviate from my path
and scatter myself, like kite or star,
throughout your day and destiny.
Rose, you who rise
superbly to the white courts
of the imperial throne,
on the pavement before you,
and thought would kneel.
Or perhaps, are you not even real?
See, my soul is in balance.
Oh, if I knew, I would seek,
if I knew you have no being,
I would seek for you to bloom
in reality, embodying yourself,
not bidding me farewell like from tales
or fancied paradises.
A troubled and beguiling kite –
I would kindle my gardens,
send my bees –
from the wax of sunrise,
with leaves, eyelids, thorns on a thread,
to build you, a rose,
from midday to sunset.
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Julia Kalman 