Young poplar, inlaid in the midst of summer,
With lively boughs and shining green leaves, too,
When wind passes in flight
Teach me to laugh in sunlight as you do
And sip it with delight.
***
Black poplar, inlaid in the frost of winter,
Inert beneath the moon,
With iron twigs and here and there a splinter...
Teach me how to forget the summer's light
And on the plain, alone,
To give my sadness to the quiet night
And save the thoughts that really are my own...
Translator: Octavian Cocoş
see more poems written by: George Topîrceanu
