Elena, Romania

2
Mihai Eminescu Now it's autumn... Now it's autumn, leaves roam and scatter, Again the wind flings heavy drops against the glazing; And you're reading old letters, tattered and fading And retrace a whole life-time in just one hour. With sweet trifles you enjoy such time-wasting, You'd hate to be disturbed by a tap on the shutter; For when it's sleeting outside, it's so much better To dream by the fireside, sleepily nodding. So I stay in my chair, staring into the fire, Dreaming of old tales and a fairy queen's sighs; Around me the mist rises higher and higher; Suddenly the rustling of silk makes me rise, Steps so soft, barely touched by the old floor . . . Then with slender, icy hands you hide my eyes. Afară-i toamnă

description

 

Transcript of Elena, Romania

Page 1: Elena, Romania

Mihai Eminescu

Now it's autumn...

Now it's autumn, leaves roam and scatter,Again the wind flings heavy drops against the glazing;

And you're reading old letters, tattered and fadingAnd retrace a whole life-time in just one hour.

With sweet trifles you enjoy such time-wasting,You'd hate to be disturbed by a tap on the shutter;For when it's sleeting outside, it's so much better

To dream by the fireside, sleepily nodding.

So I stay in my chair, staring into the fire,Dreaming of old tales and a fairy queen's sighs;

Around me the mist rises higher and higher;

Suddenly the rustling of silk makes me rise,Steps so soft, barely touched by the old floor . . .Then with slender, icy hands you hide my eyes.

Afară-i toamnă

Mihai Eminescu

Page 2: Elena, Romania

Afară-i toamnă, frunza 'mprăştiată,Iar vântul svârlă 'n geamuri grele picuri;

Şi tu citeşti scrisori din roase plicuriŞi într'un ceas gândeşti la viaţa toată.

Pierzându-ţi timpul tău cu dulci nimicuri,N'ai vrea ca nimeni 'n uşa ta să bată;Dar şi mai bine-i, când afară-i sloată,

Să stai visând la foc, de somn să picuri.

Şi eu astfel mă uit din jet de gânduri,Visez la basmul vechiu al zânei Dochii,În juru-mi ceaţa creşte rânduri-rânduri;

De odat'aud foşnirea unei rochii,Un moale pas abia atins de scânduri...Iar mâni subţiri şi reci mi-acoper ochii.