From Times

snow

One moment, to think…

How winter carries its terror –

Miseries that sing nearby,

The snow glows in the windows.

 

Winter nights storm the snow…

But who else looks for the greatness

Of times that always deceive us ?

The snow glows in the windows.

George Bacovia, Din vremuri

translated from Romanian by Marcel Rus

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Piano

piano

Again all are sad

Today, as yesterday –

Flood of pain.

 

And the dream dies

In the black destiny…

 

And better times

Don’t come, anymore,

Nor consolations…

 

Again all are sad

Today, as yesterday…

George Bacovia, Piano

translated from Romanian by Marcel Rus

#better-times, #consolations, #destiny, #dream, #flood, #george-bacovia, #marcel-rus, #sad, #today, #yesterday

Gaudeamus

trees

Flutes play in vain

In these pagan days –

Aspirants were lost in wind,

Nothing remains…

 

In wind and oblivion still stand,

With hostile days, ruling –

Anybody, whoever lived,

Nothing remains…

George Bacovia, Gaudeamus

translated from Romanian by Marcel Rus

#aspirants, #days, #flutes, #gaudeamus, #george-bacovia, #hostile, #nothing, #oblivion, #pagan, #wind

Night

night_at_the_railway

Boulevards widen in the summer night,

On trees – electric light,

At the station a car started

And in vain train horns trembled.

 

On sapphire sky – misers’ treasures…

Silence in wilderness softly vibrates

The city, slowly it seems a salon,

Now, virgin girls in sleep move on.

George Bacovia, Noapte

translated from Romanian by Marcel Rus

#boulevards, #city, #electric-light, #george-bacovia, #misers-treasures, #night, #salon, #silence, #sky, #sleep, #station, #summer, #train-horns, #trees, #virgin-girls, #wilderness

Ego

lonely-pic-010

Ever more and lonly

In my wilder world –

And more and more it presses me

A heavy mizantropy.

 

Of everything I wrote, dear,

It rises so well

The same indifference

To people and to you.

George Bacovia, Ego

pblished in Arta in 1904

translated from Romanian by Marcel Rus

#ego, #george-bacovia, #indifference, #lonly, #mizantropy, #people, #wilder-world

Lacustrine

lacustrine

So many nights I hear raining,

And listen to the matter crying…

I’m alone and think

About lake houses are to sink.

 

It seems I sleep on wet wood,

A wave hit me and  understood,

 Moving in sleep and drifting more,

That I didn’t pull deck off the shore.

 

It stretches a historic hole,

At same time I play a role…

And feel like from so much rain

All my efforts are in vain.

 

So many nights I hear raining,

Still moving, still waiting…

I’m alone and think

About lake houses are to sink.

George Bacovia, Lacustră

published in Viata noua in 1900

translated from Romanian by Marcel Rus

 

#deck, #george-bacovia, #houses, #lacustrine, #lake, #nights, #rain, #shore, #sleep, #wave, #wood