We Were Both Children Poem by Peter Mamara

by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)

My brother and I were children.
We built a farm cart with bullocks
From empty nutshells
And we yoked at it
—Old snails with horns.

And he was reading Robinson Crusoe.
And he recounted to me the tale.
I built with cards the tower of Babylon
And I said a silly thing now and then.

We often went swimming
In the forest's opening;
We arrived at the pond
On the green little island,
And we swam in it.

There we built from mud
A stronghold pretty to look at,
Out of thick and long reed,
With big tin sheets towers
Encircled by walls.

And my brother as emperor,
Disgruntled gave me the task
To travel to the frogs
And call them to battle
So we can see who is stronger.

And the frogs' emperor,
Said yes with a noisy call.
It gave orders to its army.
And we started the hostilities
By searching the pond thoroughly.

Wow! Many frogs we caught,
Even their emperor;
And into the dark towers on the green island,
We locked them up for hours.
We made peace just before dusk.

And we let the frogs free.
They were jumping with joy
And jumped in the big pond.
Not to come back again in our weapon's range.
We went back home.

Then for my accomplishment
I asked for my reward.
My brother has named me
As king of the northern lands,
— In charge of the Red Indian tribes.

The white cat was treasurer.
The one eye cat was a minister.
When I asked it for my pay,
It meowed in an ominous way.
So, I shook its paw warmly.

And my king has granted to me as a spouse:
It was young, and had a lewd quiet laughter.
It was the glamorous and suitable
Moving target.

I thanked him with a humble bow.
As veil, she had a bed sheet.
He led me to a corner of a heating stove,
With my wooden sweetheart,
Like into a holly monastery.

And, oh! She was so dear to me.
I was talking softly to her.
But she didn't answer.
So, with a grudge I threw her into the fire.

And we walked on the shed,
Over straw and reed;
And we imagined that we marched
Next to each other on a mountain,
— In every military campaign.

And the paper helmet on my head,
It was packed by the wind.
A handkerchief on a twig
It was the battle flag.

I was singing la-la-la-la. Oh dreams!
You've left and you've gone with the wind.
My brother died overseas.
Nobody had closed his eye.
It could be open in his grave.

But sometimes in my dreams,
The big blue eyes
Light up smiles.
From two pale stars,
My soul comes to life.
I? Is it still my heart from early days?
........................................
Oh, now and again
An old song crosses my mind.
It feels like a random tingle
Into my ear:

Oh life, you. It's you again.
(1871)

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