Peter Mamara
Peter Mamara Poems
by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)
You see how swallows leave.
Leaves of walnut-tree fall off.
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By M. Eminescu (1850-1889)
They ask me to sing... I'm supposed to polish
My deep sadness in rhyme and in cadence —
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by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)
You reprimand us, priests, when we don't have your saints
— Even though we all are of the same kind as you…
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by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)
Yes. The old cyclone comes out of arched cliffs and fine gates of mountains.
He spurs his horses on broad shoulders of clouds with lightning flashes,
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by M. Eminescu(1850-1889)
Similar to how Constantinople's merchants everyday
At the market, put various merchandise on display,
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by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)
I climbed down and I clinked glasses with the gods
— In Nordic Seas, throughout long and grey passages.
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by M.Eminescu(1850-1889)
Ideal you — lost in the night of a world that no longer is,
A world that had thought in tales, and spoke in verses—
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by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)
My life's craft, heavy of thoughts,
Next to death's rock, broke into bits.
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by M.Eminescu(1850-1889)
While there was no death, nothing eternal or set,
The essence of light —the life source — wasn't there yet.
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by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)
When at night with a sleepy eye I blow the candle,
The length of time's flow: only the clock can handle.
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by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)
A sultan, one who reigns supreme over a certain tongue,
That with its grazing herds, moves its homeland under the sun…
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by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)
The castle stands far away. It mirrors over the lakes in red.
Its shadow rests for ages in the waters' clear bed.
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by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)
The Bible tells us about Samson, that while he slept for an hour,
His woman cut off his hair, and she took all his power.
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by M.Eminescu (1850-1889)
The years have passed like long clouds on the plain,
And in no way they shall come back again.
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by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)
I'm alone by the fire. And I'm far from you, and in strife.
I run through my mind the thread of my destitute life.
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by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)
At the same alley with tree rows
The moon glows in the windows.
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by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)
Young woman, you have thrown me out, pitilessly,
When I sought to ravage your sweet good looks, without mercy.
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by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)
A dramatic one-act play
Characters: Mureshan, Mors: light's spirit
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by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)
(Latin: Remember that you shall die)
(An examination of the pointless vanity)
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by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)
A long time ago, when each of the sky's star,
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The Best Poem Of Peter Mamara
Why Don't You Come To Me?
by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)
You see how swallows leave.
Leaves of walnut-tree fall off.
Frost builds up in vineyards.
Why don't you come? Come.
Oh, come into my arm,
So, I can look at you.
So, I can sweetly lean my head
On your bosoms… Your bosoms…
Like we did then… Do you remember
When we walked through the countryside?
I lifted you up from your underarms,
On so many times… Many times…
There are women in this world:
They have eyes that spark.
But no matter how precious these women are…
They're not like you. Like you…
You put in plain words to me
— The excitement of my life.
You are much prettier than any star.
You are my dearest. You are.
Now it is late autumn. Because of heavy load
The leaves of the trees fall on the road.
And the crops-growing fields are empty.
Why don't you come to me? Come to me.
(1874)
Translated by
Peter Mamara Comments
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12/28/2025 11:38:36 AM # 1.0.0
Very interesting verse.