I Don't Want A Rich Tomb Poem by Peter Mamara

by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)

I don't want hymns and flags
— Or a rich tomb.
You should entwine for me a bed
— From fresh brushwood.

And no one walking behind me
Shall cry at my head.
Only the wind shall reverberate
— Through the dried foliage.

You shall burry me quietly
— At the end of the day.
While at the seashore
Fights of birds shall cross over.

My sleep shall be quiet
And the woods shall be nearby.
A clear sky
Shall shine on the endless waters.

The waters that from deep valleys
Floods the riverbanks.
With battery of waves,
Waters will spill onto the rock face.

And waters shall murmur constantly,
When with fizz they move away.
And on fir tree forests,
The moon lowers.

The Omniscient One, shall downpour
— Sweet sparks for sure.
And branches of a linden tree
Shall shake off its flowers on top of me.
Since from then on, I shall be a wanderer no more.

Memories shall envelop me with joy.
And my vanished desires:
Dwindling shall envelop my memories.
And a state of unconsciousness
Shall spread over my loneliness.

(1883, July 3)

Translated by