Whispers The Sound Of The Sea Poem by Peter Mamara

by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)

The sound of the sea whispers faintly and bit by bit.
And it engulfs the beautiful Italian peninsula in it.
Oh, white stars of the sky, you.
Light our lands too.

Let loose your mirror image into the Tiber River.
Clouds you, paint a galloping shade on the fields.
You, night's splendour (of this world and of the sea) ,
Wrap up Italy.

Sea you, carry ships on your waves,
Some heavy, which will bring to us gold from Africa.
And other ships sail in laden with roses from Egypt,
And wines and myrrh…

Oh, lands you, send your wooden eagles.
And let them fly over the great seas.
Because the marble feet of eternal Rome
Wait for gifts.

The emperor is the only one in this world, who is quiet,
And to your myrrh and to your praise he is indifferent.

You can see him touched by the inkling of ruling.
He wants his word to be the guiding light to this world.
His hours are the source of the world's history.
Long live, the Emperor!
(1873)
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