Octavian - translations added

The drought has destroyed everything, all around.
The sun has now melted and flown on the ground.
All that's left is the bare sky, which burns really hot.
From the wells, all the buckets draw black mud a lot.

An Arab comes, looking like hell,
His voice is weak, he can't speak well,
– O, pasha, please, don't be severe,
From Bab-el-Mandeb I've come here

Without a shelter, hungry, blue,
You put a burden on my back
And spat me and enchained my neck,
I was a dog for you.

The earth is long and wide a bit
But rich like Arrow, gentle, fit,
There was no ruler to outshine
And had a daughter, so divine,

An envoy riding fast, inclined,
Holding the reins, looking resigned
Comes from afar and grows so tall
That the horizons now are small

Their small hive, on glen below,
Is defended all around
By three poplars full of snow,
Rising from the snowy ground.

Let's hold hands, don't stand apart
People with Romanian heart
And let's dance when plays the band
On Romania's fair land.

I
Because the sun cannot go to sleep
without looking back, just for fun,
at the young girls, I wonder:

I'm looking for something. I'm looking
for a past sky and sunset. How bent
is the head, which to look up was meant!

What turns into poetry?
Only the things that have died out
and are preserved in mind.
Only what you have left behind,