Echo (Bacovia) Poem by Paul Abucean

Gone is the bright and cloudless sky
Of springtime and its hopeful hum;
I longed for you with constant sigh -
You did not come.

Then summer came and left me blue,
And left the fields all scorched and glum;
Neath lindens did I wait for you -
You did not come.

And late, as autumn scattered wide
Its rueful leafage, dead and dumb,
On lonely paths for you I cried -
You did not come.

I am arrived at winter's gate,
My presence nothing shall restore...
Oh come no more, 'tis much too late,
Oh come no more!

(Translated by Paul Abucean)