Peter Mamara

Blue Flower - Poem by Peter Mamara

by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)

'You've rapt yourself once more in stars
— And in the clouds and in the skies?
You — my life's hub —
I trust you won't forget me.

You think to no avail
About streams of sunlight,
And the countryside,
And the dark sea…

The ancient pyramids
Raise their high tops to the skies.
My love, don't look afar
For your source of pleasure.'

And so, the petite one said,
Gently fixing her hair.
Oh! She said the truth…
I didn't say a thing. I laughed.

Let's go to the leafy forest
Where water springs flow downward
Into the great gorge,
Where the mountain peak is about to fall.

We shall sit on berry leaves
— To an opening in the forest,
Near the see-through pond,
—Beneath the bent willow-branches.

Then you shall tell me stories
— And fibs, with your little lips.
I shall try to find out on a camomile
— If you love me or not.

And because of the sun's heat,
I shall be sunburnt, red as an apple.
And I shall un-knot my golden hair,
And cover your mouth with it.

If you will give me a kiss
No one in the world will know this.
It shall take place under my hat
And then, who cares about that?

You shall hold me by the arm.
I shall hold you around your neck,
On a summer-night
When the moon shall come out.

We shall give kisses to each other,
Taking the road down to the village,
On the footpath under the arches of leaves,
Sweetly, like an out-of-sight flower.

And arriving at your front-gate
We shall talk in the dark.
No one should care about us.
Who cares that you're dear to me?

One more kiss and she had left…
I stood like a mast in the moonlight.
How pretty… how hot blooded…
My sweet blue flower is.

And you left, sweet wonder you.
And our love has died too.
Blue-flower, blue-flower…
Well, it is sad in this world.

(1873 April the 1st)

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Topic(s) of this poem: poem

Form: Verse

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Poem Submitted: Friday, September 9, 2016

Poem Edited: Saturday, April 1, 2017

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