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!
I'm looking for something. I'm looking
for the dawns that flowed and were bright
like the fountains that now have gone out of sight.
I'm looking for something. I'm looking
for the hour that in me has remained
as the rim of a dead jug by lipstick is stained.
I'm looking for something. Beneath the stars
that existed sometime, I'm looking for a light,
which went out, but I praise day and night.
Translator: Octavian Cocoş
see more poems written by: Lucian Blaga
