by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)
Come to the woods, at the spring
Which splashes on pebbles.
There where the flower bed,
It's hidden by lowered tree-branches.
And you should run into my open arms
And relax at my chest.
So I can undo the veil on your head.
And lift it up your cheek.
You shall sit on my knees.
We shall be alone.
And linden flowers
Shall fall on your hair.
Your head, by blond hair being surrounded,
You shall undo your hair.
And let your sweet lips
Be target for my mouth.
We shall dream joyous dreams.
— With isolated water springs.
The gentle wind breeze,
Shall mimic it for us with songs.
We shall fall asleep in the harmony of the woods
That stirs our thoughts.
Linden flowers
Shall fall above us, in waves.
(1876 September 1)
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