Letter IV [Scrisoarea IV] - Mihai Eminescu

The old solitary castle is reflected in the lake,
On the bottom sleeps its shadow, which the centuries can't wake;
In that silence towers proudly over fir trees and the glade,
Covering the circling ripples with a thick and pleasant shade.
And behind the vaulted windows tremble slowly all the time
Long and nicely creased white curtains, sparkling like a film of rime.
The moon shakes above the forests, it increases, getting bright,
Edge of rock and tip of fir tree on the sky it paints at night,
While the oaks are like huge guardsmen who surround it with their stem
Watching over it when rises, as one guards a precious gem.

Only the white swans, which slowly float through reeds and the tall rush,
They, which rule over the waters, guests of this enchanting hush,
Spreading wide their wings will cut it, and will do this without shame,
Now in circling trembling ripples, now in furrows of bright flame.
And the rush begins to rustle, as if taken by surprise,
While around, on the grass carpet, now a sleepy cricket sighs...
And the summer fills the forest, a sweet rumor spreads around
But a knight is watching closely, standing firmly on the ground,
At the balcony invaded by green leaves, which coat the rail,
By pink roses, called of Shiraz, and by vines, which form a veil.
He enjoys the scent of water, and the evening, and the star,
Over the delightful nature, he pours notes with his guitar;

„O, come on, show me your body clothed again in your silk dress,
Which seems laden with a powder of bright silver, I confess,
I would look at you for ever with your crown of shining rays,
When your hand touches your fair hair and its strands will gently raise.
Come, I say! Play with me nicely...with my luck...and then decide
To give me that withered flower growing on the riverside,
Which when thrown sounds like the music softly played by my guitar...
Oh! The night is white and chilly, seems that snow is not too far.
Or you can invite me quickly in your chambers or suites
To get drunk on the sweet perfume coming from the linen sheets;
And young Cupid, playful buttons, with his hand will hide with care
The lampshade, colored in violet, O, my mistress, young and fair!”

On the floor, among the vases, the silk rustles, barely heard,
Out of roses and blue creepers she emerges like a bird;
The girl laughs among the flowers and then leans over the rail –
She resembles a pure angel, being beautiful and frail –
From the balcony she throws him a red rose, like her own cheeks,
Seemingly, she reprimands him with her whispers when she speaks;
Then she enters the small chamber...hush, her footsteps can be heard
And she comes out of the castle, for their hearts are really stirred.
Arm in arm they walk together and look lovely, it is true,
He is young, she is attractive, he is tall, she is tall, too.
On the shore, the shade is friendly and they loosen really fast
A small boat whose sails are hanging on a slender wooden mast
And then leave, but very slowly, rowing gently on the lake
While around, the charm and beauties quiver only for their sake...

The moon rises, round and yellow, making bright the starry night,
And connects the shores in passing with a trail of golden light,
Which it lays on thousand ripples, very gently, I confess,
She, a golden child and vision of the everlastingness;
As its light, so sweet and charming, becomes stronger in the sky,
The small ripples and the shoreline grow much bigger for the eye,
And the forest seems much larger, it approaches them with speed,
While the lunar disk is watching, ruler of the lake, indeed.
Lime trees cast a distinct shadow and they let their blossoms fall
On the dark and moving waters when the wind renews its call;
And the blossoms land exactly on the girl, as if demands,
So, she reaches for her white neck, touching it with both her hands
And she says: – If you don't save me, I will be amazed for sure...
O, how sweet your words are flowing, I would like to hear some more!
How high, in your thorough thinking, can you raise your humble slave,
For your painful heart, I tell you, is the wealth for which I crave.
And you make me tremble madly with your voice inflamed, sublime
As if I am in a story full of love from ancient time;
All the dreams you cherish dearly and your eye, so sad and kind,
With its deep and wet appearance, they consume my quiet mind...

Don't look sideways with your black eyes, but instead give them to me,
For their sweet eternal darkness always makes me to feel free –
They would blind me if I watched them...O, now listen, can you hear
How the waves and stars, like prophets, chatter gently without fear?
The black forest raves and rambles and its springs profound and blue,
Seem to tell to one another that our love is nice and true
And the morning stars are shaking through the fir trees, there on high,
They are our friends, my darling... our earth, the lake, the sky...
You could drop the oars and rudder and just watch the lake that craves
To take us in its possession, carry us on rapid waves,
For wherever they would lead us, you will notice, out of breath,
Happiness is all around us...be it life or be it death.

...............................................................................................

O, my dear imagination, how you carry me with ease
Every time when we're together, through the forests, on the seas!
Where did you observe these countries, which lie on a distant shore,
When did all occur, I wonder? Many centuries before?
O, my face, now I forbid you to get lost in her big eyes
To caress that girl with passion, touching her attractive thighs,
And to take her by the shoulders, mouth to mouth and chest to chest,
With your eyes to ask her gently: “Do you love me? Please, don't jest!”

When you reach out, what a nuisance, the door opens and, behold!
All your kinsfolk are in meeting, aunts and uncles, young and old...
You look quickly to the side walls and your mind flies like a dove...
Is there any place, a corner, in this world, for one to love?
On their chairs they all look rigid like the mummies in a tomb,
You have clenched your hands and fidget in that small and crowded room,
Now you count your black mustache hair, now you roll a cigarette,
And discuss about fine dishes, as if you were not upset.
I'm fed up with such a lifestyle, I can't taste it any more,
For this misery is bitter even to its very core.
With my tears how could I hallow such an instinct poor and vain,
Which sets all the birds in motion twice a year, again, again?
You don't live, but it is other who inspires you and lives,
With your mouth he laughs enchanted, he is happy, he perceives,
All your lives are like the ripples, their are driven by their urge,
Everlasting is the river, the majestic Demiurge.

Don't you feel that the affection is not yours? O, wretched fools!
Don't you see that in the bad things you perceive only the jewels?
Don't you see your love is serving mother nature day and night?
That in other lives is throwing seeds of misery and spite?
Don't you see your laugh will end up in your children to be cry,
That because of it, for certain, the Cain's people cannot die?
Oh, what puppet show... what rumor and how many human words,
They tell jokes and lot of stories, like the parrots – silly birds,
But they do not understand them...Like an actor in a play
To himself he talks the poor guy and a thousand times he'll say
What they all have said before us and will say for years to come
Till the sun will fall from heavens and in chasm will succumb.

When the veil of clouds is broken and the moon is shining bright
Can your thoughts follow it closely, guided by its silver light?
Can you slide on ice when winter covers all the streets with snow
Looking through the sparkling windows at the lights, at their bright glow,
And to see her there surrounded by a host of petty guys
Smiling cheerfully, delighted, proving that she is unwise?
And to hear the dresses' rustle and the spurs that always clink,
While they twist their thick mustaches and the women laugh and wink?
When they plan with furtive glances their next fleeting love affair,
Can you linger near her fences, freezing in the chilly air?
Can you obstinately love her, like a child sincere and pure
When she's like the month of April, cold and moody, immature?
Clenching hard your arms while waiting, will you risk to lose your mind
Watching her from head to ankles, thinking that she is refined,
Like a marble brought from Paros, like a painting bright and cool
When she's devious and frigid? Understand her, don't be fool....
Yes... I used to dream with passion of a woman sweet and dear,
When I muse to touch me gently, to be loving and sincere,
Thus, I'd feel she understands me and she'd know how much I care...
From our lives we'd make a novel that would be beyond compare...

I've stopped looking for her lately. What to look for? Same old song,
The eternal lust for silence in my ears sounds all along;
But the organs lie all broken and the ancient song is heard
Now and then, during the nighttime, like a spring that's really stirred.
Here and there a ray emerges, traveling extremely fast,
From a Carmen Saecularae I was dreaming in the past.
And they whistle in their passing and they scream and spread around
Push each other in a hurry, touch the strings, which then resound,
In my thoughts the wind blows harshly and my head is burned by heat,
While the song is cold and bitter and for certain incomplete...
Where are you, dear limpid moments of my life? I could explain
That the organs are all broken and the master is insane.

Added by: Octavian

Translator: Octavian Cocoş
Language: English

see more poems written by: Mihai Eminescu