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Sarah in Romania
12 juin 2008

Mihai Eminescu - 'Now far I am from you'

EminescuMihai Eminescu (January 15, 1850 – June 15, 1889), born Mihail Eminovici, was a late romantic Romanian poet, unanimously celebrated as the greatest and most representative of his country. Nicolae Iorga, the Romanian historian, considered Eminescu the godfather of the modern Romanian language. 

Eminescu achieved a comprehensive, penetrating and visionary synthesis of the old Thracians, Dacian custom and Latin traditions that have merged over the past two millenia into an original Romanian cultural pattern, extended over the Carpathians to the Danube and the Black Sea.

Eminescu had only twenty years in which to fully accomplish his work (1864-1883), but in this short time he influenced Romanian consciousness deeply, promoting ideals of social equity, the preservation of national unity, independence and sovereignty and the fight for truth and beauty in both life and art.

He awoke a kind of historic self-awareness
in the Romanian people and encouraged a vision of further development - equality with the rest of the world through the sharing of tragic historical events but without ever being submissive along with an ability to build a "great future" in the intense rhythm of European culture and civilisation.

Eminescu was influenced by the work of Arthur Schopenhauer and some have suggested that his most famous poem, "Luceafarul" was based upon an older German work or the Katha Upanishad. Eminescu's poems have been translated into over 60 languages world-wide. Please visit this wonderful blog dedicated to Mihai Eminescu.

Below, one of my favourite poems:

Departe sînt de tine

Departe sunt de tine şi singur lângă foc,
Petrec în minte viaţa-mi lipsită de noroc,
Optzeci de ani îmi pare în lume c-am trăit,
Că sunt bătrân ca iarna, că tu vei fi murit.
Aducerile-aminte pe suflet cad în picuri,
Redeşteptând în faţă-mi trecutele nimicuri;
Cu degetele-i vântul loveşte în fereşti,
Se toarce-n gându-mi firul duioaselor poveşti,
Ş-atuncea dinainte-mi prin ceaţă parcă treci,
Cu ochii mari în lacrimi, cu mâni subţiri şi reci;
Cu braţele-amândouă de gâtul meu te-anini
Ţi parc-ai vrea a-mi spune ceva... apoi suspini...
Eu strâng la piept averea-mi de-amor şi frumuseţi,
În sărutări unim noi sărmanele vieţi...
O! glasul amintirii rămâie pururi mut,
Să uit pe veci norocul ce-o clipă l-am avut,
Să uit, cum dup-o clipă din braţele-mi te-ai smult...
Voi fi bătrân şi singur, vei fi murit de mult!

Now far I am from you

Now far I am from you, before my fire alone,

And read again the hours that so silently have gone,

And it seems that eighty years beneath my feet did glide,

That I am old as winter, that maybe you have died.

The shadows of the past swift stream across life’s floor

The tale of all times, nothings that now exist no more;

While the wind with clumsy fingers softly fumbles at the blind

And sadly spins the fibre of the story in my mind…

I see you stand before me in a mist that does enfold,

Your eyes are full of tears and your fingers long and cold;

About my neck caressing your arms you gently ply

And it seems you want to speak to me, yet only sigh.

And thus I clasp entranced my all, my world of grace,

And both our lives are joined in that supreme embrace…

Oh, let the voice of memory remain for ever dumb,

Forget the joy that was, but that nevermore will come,

Forget how after an instant you thrust my arms aside,

For now I’m old and lonely, and maybe you have died.

[Translated by the incomparable Corneliu M. Popescu]

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