Like a night dream you hover over my soul.
You rest your temple upon my heart
like on a red rock, and you wait for me
to tell you the names of all things which I
have finished telling you, long ago.
My mouth lies into most perfect silence,
bowing like the silk of a flag on a windless day.
O, don't leave, anywhere!
I'm gonna tear my heart with a single move of my hand,
to let the pain arise,
that pain which knows the name of pain,
to let my manly love arise, that love which knows
your strange womanly name.
Translator: Vasile Andreica
see more poems written by: Nichita Stănescu
