Comments about Peter Mamara
The First Letter
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.
And as I pull the drapes in my room to the right,
The moon engulfs everything with its warm light.
It retrieves from my memory, endless thoughts.
I feel the whole lot like in dreams that come in lots.
You move on Earth’s dome, Moon you, mistress of the sea.