Peter Mamara


Peter Mamara Poems

1. Mureshan 9/8/2016
2. Odin And The Poet 9/8/2016
3. Anthropomorphism 9/8/2016
4. Priest Versus Philosopher 9/8/2016
5. Oh, Sublime Truth… 9/8/2016
6. Fabulous Stories 9/8/2016
7. Like The Merchants Of Constantinople… 9/8/2016
8. In My Search For Scheherazade 9/8/2016
9. Venus And Madonna 9/8/2016
10. Allegorical Rhymes 9/8/2016
11. A Dacian's Prayer 9/8/2016
12. First Letter 9/8/2016
13. Second Letter 9/8/2016
14. Third Letter 9/8/2016
15. Fourth Letter 9/8/2016
16. Fifth Letter 9/8/2016
17. The Years Have Passed 9/8/2016
18. I'm Far Away From You 9/8/2016
19. At The Same Alley 9/8/2016
20. A Glance 9/8/2016
21. Andrei Mureshan 9/8/2016
22. Memento Mori 9/8/2016
23. The Story Of The Wizard, Who Travelled To The Stars 9/8/2016
24. Colin 9/8/2016
25. The Evening Star 9/8/2016
26. Echo 9/8/2016
27. At The Death Of A German 9/8/2016
28. At The Death Of Prince Stirbei 9/9/2016
29. Good-Looking Lad From Linden Tree 9/9/2016
30. Blue Flower 9/9/2016
31. At The Tomb Of Aron Pumnu 9/9/2016
32. A Harp On A Grave 9/9/2016
33. Whispers The Sound Of The Sea 9/9/2016
34. And If… 9/9/2016
35. Epigrams 9/9/2016
36. The Hermit 9/9/2016
37. Oh, I Count Crying 9/9/2016
38. She Follows Her Way Into The Woods 9/9/2016
39. God And Man 9/9/2016
40. I Had A Muse 9/9/2016
Best Poem of Peter Mamara

Odin And The Poet

By M. Eminescu (1850-1889)

They ask me to sing... I'm supposed to polish
My deep sadness in rhyme and in cadence —
Sweetly, like the spring moonlight
As seen in a garden in Italy at night —
And with my sweet poems I'm supposed to make any woman sigh.
How nice it could be for many men. For me, no! Not for me.
And silly young guys
With their hair curled, with a monocle on their eyes,
With cigarettes in their mouth
And with a goat beard under their teeth,
They shall recite my verses,
Which are a deep sign of true feelings,
In which they shall ...

Read the full of Odin And The Poet

Mureshan

By M. Eminescu (1850-1889)

(Mureshan is alone in the woods. An old church with a stone tower is on the back of a hill. It is night and moonlight. The clock tolls the midnight.)

Midnight strikes in the old stone tower, which has a bell heart.
Through the world's checkpoint no souls enter and no souls depart.
And the sleep, death's brother, with an eye full of dissent
Goes through the realm of the resting thought
And it dips its cold wi

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