Why Don't You Come To Me? Poem by Peter Mamara

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)

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