Why Even Now, I Make My Way To… Poem by Peter Mamara

by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)

Why even now I make my way to you?
Since without you, I have nothing to say…
And today, I don't care that certain people
May say bad things about this poem.

I don't care at all about them.
They can take my poems in their claws.
Your opinion, fair-minded and dear readers,
It makes me glad. Of it I am anxious.

Love and death are in enmity.
Being a friend of love, I often considered it necessary.
And while in love, I gave myself to you, my dear…

You won my life once more
And any of its fruit and agreement is yours by right.
So even this one: here it is.

(1876)

Translated by