To waste is prone the month of May - Risipei se deda Florarul - Lucian Blaga - Lucian Blaga
added by: danielionita1960

This simple, undisguised, occurrence,
Too late, some day, we might remember,
The garden bench on which we rested,
Our temples touching, crimson ember.

Hazelnut trees are raining cinders,
White poplars join in wild array,
Fruitful to be, craves each new dawn,
To waste is prone the month of May.

Sweet pollen falls on us again,
Like yellow snowdrifts, gentle cover,
As if some fine and golden threads,
Shoulders and eyelashes discover.

For our mouths will taste it speaking,
While in our eyes the word goes missing;
We can’t predict regretful evenings,
As we lay sleepless, reminiscing...

This simple, undisguised, occurrence,
Too late, some day, we might remember,
The garden bench on which we rested,
Our temples touching, crimson ember.

Through dreams and longings now we linger -
This gold dust hides a bitter twist -
Lush forests latently existing
Forever failing to exist

(from the volume Testament - 400 de ani de poezie românească - 400 Years of Romanian Poetry - Daniel Ionita - editor and principal translator, assisted by Daniel Reynaud, Adriana Paul and Eva Foster - Minerva Publishing- 2019)



Translator: Daniel Ionita

see more poems written by: Lucian Blaga