Verses by Ion Minulescu, translated by Julia Kalman
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To Her Who Departs
You believe it was genuine love…
I believe it was a brief madness…
But whatever it was,
What we wished it to be,
Perhaps we’ll never know.
It was a dream lived on a sea shore.
A sad song brought from distant lands
By some white, traveling birds
Over the rebellious blue of other seas.
A sad song sung by sailors
Arriving from Boston,
Norfolk,
And New York,
A sad song that fishermen often sing
When they set sail and never return.
And it was the refrain of triolets
With which once a poet from the North,
On the edges of the white fjord,
Begged for the love of fair coquettes…
It was a dream,
A verse,
A melody,
Perhaps one we never sang…
…Do you think it was genuine love?
I believe it was a brief madness!
Please, clap, engage, and… stay tuned for the next story…! But, most importantly, a profound thank you to each one of you. Your unwavering support has been invaluable.
Julia Kalman 