Kamadeva Poem by Peter Mamara

by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)

With my love's fight
Wanting to heal my heart,
I called while I was asleep
—Kama, Kamadeva the Indian God.

He comes as a proud adolescent,
Riding a parrot,
He has a fake smile
— On his coral-like lips.

He has wings,
But he keeps as arrows
Only poisoned flowers
— From the great Ganges.

He then placed a flower in his bow
He hit me with it in my chest.
And since then on,
I cry on my bed.

With his poisoned dart,
He, the son of the sky
And vain fantasy, got here
So he can scold me.

(1887 July 1)

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