RAIUL
Primăvara m-aş culca pe pămînt,
cînd bate austrul, întîiul vînt
deschizător de muguri şi sfînt.
Soarele mi-ar veni drept în faţă,
ca un rîs larg, ca un strigăt de viaţă
străbătător prin amintiri si ceaţă.
Aproape tare de urechea mea,
flori mici în formă de inel şi stea,
s-ar îmbulzi, iar ploaia de-ar cădea,
eu m-aş lăsa de ierburi biruită,
de blîndele brînduşi acoperită -
ca o colină-abia din mări ivită.
Da. Somnul meu ar fi adînc şi bun,
visul mai verde, geana-n funigei,
şi n-aş dori nicicînd, copiii mei,
în raiul trist, cu sfinţii să m-adun.
HEAVEN
In the spring I should lie on the ground
when the austral wind is blowing, the first wind,
opener of buds and sacred.
The sun would come right in my face
like a large laughter, like a shout of life
crossing the memories and the mist.
Very close at my ear
small flowers, star and ring-shaped
would rush, and if the rain would fall,
I should let me overcome by the herbs,
by the gentle spring crocuses covered -
as a hill just emerged from the sea.
Yes. My sleep would be deep and good,
my dream more green, my eyelash in the air threads,
and never I should want, my children,
in the sad heaven, with the saints to gather.
HEAVEN
In the spring I should lie on the ground
when the austral wind is blowing, the first wind,
opener of buds and sacred.
The sun would come right in my face
like a large laughter, like a shout of life
crossing the memories and the mist.
Very close at my ear
small flowers, star and ring-shaped
would rush, and if the rain would fall,
I should let me overcome by the herbs,
by the gentle spring crocuses covered -
as a hill just emerged from the sea.
Yes. My sleep would be deep and good,
my dream more green, my eyelash in the air threads,
and never I should want, my children,
in the sad heaven, with the saints to gather.
Frumoasa poezie, Silvia! Multumesc
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