translated English-Romanian

somewhere i have never travelled / undeva unde n-am calatorit niciodata

POSTED IN classic poetry, translated English-Romanian March 22, 2019











somewhere i have never travelled /
undeva unde n-am calatorit niciodata


somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me,i and
my life will shut very beautifully,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

e. e. cummings


undeva unde n-am calatorit niciodata

undeva unde n-am calatorit niciodata, bucuros dincolo
de orice experienta, ochii tai au tacerea lor:
in gestul tau cel mai fragil sunt lucruri care ma include,
ori pe care nu le pot atinge deoarece sunt prea aproape

privirea ta cea mai mica ma include cu usurinta
desi m-am inchis precum degetele,
tu ma deschizi mereu petala cu petala precum Primavara deschide
(atingand abil, misterios ) primul sau trandafir

sau daca vrei sa ma inchizi, eu si
viata mea ne-om inchide foarte frumos, brusc
ca atunci când inima acestei flori își imaginează
zapada cazand cu grija peste tot;

nimic din ceea ce noi trebuie sa percepem in aceasta lume egaleaza
puterea intensei tale fragilitati: a carei textura
mă obligă cu culoarea țărilor sale
traducand moartea și pentru totdeauna cu fiecare respirație

(nu știu ce este despre tine care închide
si deschide; doar ceva in mine intelege
vocea ochilor tai este mai adanca decat toti trandafirii)
nimeni, nici chiar ploaia, nu are maini asa mici


Maria Magdalena

Psalm / Psalm

POSTED IN classic poetry, translated English-Romanian March 19, 2019












Psalm / Psalm

O durere totdeauna mi-a fost singuratatea ta ascunsa,
Dumnezeule, dar ce era sa fac?
Cand eram copil ma jucam cu tine
si-n inchipuire te desfaceam cum desfaci o jucarie.
Apoi salbaticia mi-a crescut,
cantarile mi-au pierit,
si fara sa-mi fi fost vreodata aproape
te-am pierdut pentru totdeauna
in tarana, in foc, in vazduh si pe ape.


intre rasaritul de soare si-apusul de soare
sunt numai tina si rana.
in cer te-ai inchis ca-ntr-un cosciug.
O, de n-ai fi mai inrudit cu moartea
decat cu viata,
mi-ai vorbi. De-acolo unde esti,
din pamant ori din poveste mi-ai vorbi.


in spinii de-aci, arata-te, Doamne,
sa stiu ce-astepti de la mine.
Sa prind din vazduh sulita veninoasa
din adanc azvarlita de altul sa te raneasca subt aripi?
Ori nu doresti nimic?
Esti muta, neclintita identitate
(rotunjit in sine a este a),
nu ceri nimic. Nici macar rugaciunea mea.


Iata, stelele intra in lume
deodata cu intrebatoarele mele tristeti.
Iata, e noapte fara ferestre-n afara.
Dumnezeule, de-acum ce ma fac?
in mijlocul tau ma dezbrac. Ma dezbrac de trup
ca de-o haina pe care-o lasi in drum.


Always a pain was your hidden loneliness,
Lord, but what was I to do?
As a child I used to play with you
and in my mind I disassembled you as one disassembles a toy.
Then my wilderness grew,
my songs disappeared,
and without ever being near me
I lost you forever
In dust, in fire, in the air, and on the water.


between sunrise and sunset
I am only clay and wound.
you closed yourself in Heaven like in a coffin.
Oh, if you were no more related to death
only to life,
you would talk to me. From where you are
from earth or from the story you would talk to me.


In the thorns from here, show yourself, Lord,
to know what you expect from me.
to catch the venomous spear out of the air
from deep down thrown by another to hurt you under the wings?
Or don’t you want anything?
You are mute, unshakable identity
(rounded itself a is a),
you ask for nothing. Not even for my prayer.


Look, the stars enter the world
at once with my inquiring sadness.
Look, it’s a night without windows out.
Lord, from now on what do I do?
in the midst of you I undress. I’m stripping my body
like a coat that you leave on the way

Maria Magdalena

since feeling is first / intrucat sentimentul este primul

POSTED IN classic poetry, translated English-Romanian March 17, 2019













since feeling is first / intrucat sentimentul este primul


since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;

wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world

my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all the flowers. Don’t cry
– the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids’ flutter which says

we are for each other: then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life’s not a paragraph

and death i think is no parenthesis


intrucat sentimentul este primul


intrucat sentimentul este primul
care da vreo atentie
sintaxei lucrurilor
nu te voi saruta deplin nicicand:

pe deplin sa fii un naiv
cand Primavara este in Lume

sangele meu accepta,
si sarutarile sunt o soarta mai buna
decat intelepciunea
doamna jur pe toate florile. Nu plange
-cel mai bun gest al creierului meu este mai putin decat
tremurul pleoapele tale care spune

suntem unul pentru altul: atunci
razi, arcuieste-te in bratele mele
caci viata nu-i un paragraf

si moartea cred nu-i o paranteza


Maria Magdalena

may i feel said he / as putea simti spuse el

POSTED IN classic poetry, translated English-Romanian March 17, 2019











may i feel said he / as putea simti spuse el

may i feel said he
(i’ll squeal said she
just once said he)
it’s fun said she

(may i touch said he
how much said she
a lot said he)
why not said she

(let’s go said he
not too far said she
what’s too far said he
where you are said she)

may i stay said he
which way said she
like this said he
if you kiss said she

may i move said he
is it love said she)
if you’re willing said he
(but you’re killing said she

but it’s life said he
but your wife said she
now said he)
ow said she

(tiptop said he
don’t stop said she
oh no said he)
go slow said she

(cccome?said he
ummm said she)
you’re divine!said he
(you are Mine said she)



as putea simti spuse el


as putea simti spuse el
(voi tipa spuse ea
numai o data spuse el
e hazliu spuse ea)
(as putea atinge spuse el
cat de mult spuse ea
mult spuse el)
de ce nu spuse ea
(hai sa mergem spuse el
nu prea departe spuse ea
ce-i prea departe spuse el
unde esti tu spuse ea)

as putea sta spuse el
cum spuse ea
asa spuse el
daca saruti spuse ea

as putea sa ma misc spuse el
este dragoste spuse ea
daca vrei spuse el
(dar tu ucizi spuse ea

pai asta-i viata spuse el
dar sotia ta spuse ea
acum spuse el)
au spuse ea

(perfect spuse el
nu te opri spuse ea
o nu spuse el)
usurel spuse ea

(vvvvii? spuse el
Ummm spuse ea)
esti divina! spuse el
(esti al Meu spuse ea)


Maria Magdalena

When We Were Very Young / Cand eram foarte tineri

POSTED IN classic poetry, translated English-Romanian March 16, 2019












When We Were Very Young / Cand eram foarte tineri


She wore her yellow sun-bonnet,
She wore her greenest gown;
She turned to the south wind
And curtsied up and down.
She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbour:
“Winter is dead.”

A.A. Milne

Purta galbena-i palarie
Si cea mai verde gateala;
Se-ntoarse spre vantul de sud
Intr-o plecaciune regala.
Se-ntoarse apoi spre soare
Si-si clatina capu-aurit,
Si-i murmura vecinului :
« Iarna-a murit ! »


Maria Magdalena

sweet spring / dulcea primavara

POSTED IN classic poetry, translated English-Romanian March 16, 2019













sweet spring

sweet spring is your
time is my time is our
time for springtime is lovetime
and viva sweet love

(all the merry little birds are
flying in the floating in the
very spirits singing in
are winging in the blossoming)

lovers go and lovers come
awandering awondering
but any two are perfectly
alone there’s nobody else alive

(such a sky and such a sun
i never knew and neither did you
and everybody never breathed
quite so many kinds of yes)

not a tree can count his leaves
each herself by opening
but shining who by thousands mean
only one amazing thing

(secretly adoring shyly
tiny winging darting floating
merry in the blossoming
always joyful selves are singing)

sweet spring is your
time is my time is our
time for springtime is lovetime
and viva sweet love”

e. e. cummings

Dulcea primavara e timpul tau
e timpul meu e al nostru timp
caci primavara e iubire
si viva iubirea dulce

(Toate pasarile mici vesele
zboara-n plutire si-n
spiritele cantand
sunt aripi in inflorire)

Iubiti pleaca, iubiti vin
ratacind in mirare
insa orice doi sunt perfect
singuri nimeni altul nu exista

(asa un cer si-asa un soare
nu am stiut si nici tu
si toti nicicand n-au respirat
atat de multe feluri de da)

nu-i copac sa-si poate numara frunzele
fiecare deschizandu-se usor
dar care stralucind cu miile
inseamna doar un lucru uimitor

(in secret adorand timid
aripi mici repezit zburand
vesele in inflorire
mereu bucuros sinele cantand)

Dulcea primavara e timpul tau
e timpul meu e al nostru timp
caci primavara e iubire
si viva iubirea dulce

Maria Magdalena

Izvorul noptii / The spring of night

POSTED IN classic poetry, translated English-Romanian March 4, 2019












Izvorul nopţii / The spring of night

ţi-s ochii-aşa de negri încât seara
când stau culcat cu capu-n poala ta
îmi pare
că ochii tăi, adânci, sunt izvorul
din care tainic curge noaptea peste văi
şi peste munţi şi peste seşuri
acoperind pământul
c-o mare de-ntuneric.
Aşa-s de negri ochii tăi,
lumina mea.

Lucian Blaga

The spring of night

your eyes are so black that in the evening
when I lie down with my head in your lap
It seems to me
that your eyes, the deep, are the source
from which mysterious the night flows over the valleys
and mountains, and planes
covering the earth
with a sea of darkness.
So black are your eyes,
my light.

Vintage Print

Promises Like Pie-Crust / Promisiuni precum coaja de placinta

POSTED IN classic poetry, translated English-Romanian March 2, 2019












Promises Like Pie-Crust / Promisiuni precum coaja de placinta

(Promises Like Pie-Crust – made to be broken – English saying
Promisiuni precum coaja de placinta – facute spre a fi sfaramate – proverb englez)

Promise me no promises,
So will I not promise you:
Keep we both our liberties,
Never false and never true:
Let us hold the die uncast,
Free to come as free to go:
For I cannot know your past,
And of mine what can you know?

You, so warm, may once have been
Warmer towards another one:
I, so cold, may once have seen
Sunlight, once have felt the sun:
Who shall show us if it was
Thus indeed in time of old?
Fades the image from the glass,
And the fortune is not told.

If you promised, you might grieve
For lost liberty again:
If I promised, I believe
I should fret to break the chain.
Let us be the friends we were,
Nothing more but nothing less:
Many thrive on frugal fare
Who would perish of excess.

Christina Georgina Rossetti

Promisiuni precum coaja de placinta

Promite-mi sa nu-mi promiti,
Astfel nici eu nu-ti promit:
Sa fim doua libertati,
nicicand fals, nicicand cinstit:

Tinem zarul nearuncat,
Liber pleci si liber vii:
Nu-i trecutu-ti descifrat,
Iar de-al meu ce poti tu sti?

Tu, cald, poate-ai fost alt’ data
mai cald cu-o alta unit:
eu, rece, vazui vreodata
soarele, l-oi fi simtit.
Cin’ ne poate arata
cum a fost timpul apus?
Stinsa e imaginea
Si norocul nu-i de spus.

De promiti ca-i fi-ntristat
pentru fosta libertate:
De.oi promite framantat
Ca rup lanturile toate
Prieteni putem ramane,
Nici mai mult nici mai putin:
Multi prospera doar cu paine
Cine-ar pieri din prea plin.

Vintage Print

First fig

POSTED IN contemporary poetry, translated English-Romanian March 1, 2019












First fig

My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends—
It gives a lovely light!

Edna St. Vincent Millay
Primul smochin

Lumanarea-mi va conteni;
In noapte n-o sa tina;
Dar ah, dusmani, si oh, prieteni –
Da o dulce lumina!

Vintage Print

Catalina Franco – antologie de poezie

POSTED IN translated English-Romanian, translated French-Romanian, translated Romanian-German March 1, 2019













Catalina Franco – antologie de poezie

An elite translator who has worked the word of many languages to be understood in the Romanian language. Thank You heartily!

Vintage Print