Comments about 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 ...
by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)
Yes. The old cyclone comes out of arched cliffs and fine gates of mountains.
He spurs his horses on broad shoulders of clouds with lightning flashes,
And drives his chart that thunders in its haste.
His beard waves in the wind, like the silvery twilight.
And his pointy crown is seen on his hair
— Crown wrought from flares of red lightning and from a violet-blue star.
There is deep-roar, when the old hurricane catche