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<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
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MAGDA ISANOS (17.04,1916-17.11.1944)<\/p>\n
1. Mana ta<\/p>\n
Mina ta nu-i fara de temei fierbinte,
sau rece, grea ca plumbul, sau usoara;
eu vorba i-o-nteleg, si ea nu minte,
cum are obiceiul stapinul, bunaoara.<\/p>\n
E ca o frunza mare, pala, ce s-a scuturat
pe fruntea mea, sa steie racoroasa,
si, cind pe umeri citeodata mi se lasa,
eu stiu de esti sau nu esti suparat.<\/p>\n
In parul meu ce albe-s degetele miinii tale,
si-asa de visatoare, ca de femeie-mi par,
dar ard si dor de brate pina la umar goale,
de-mi zic ca au in virfuri si-n podul palmei jar.<\/p>\n
Stiu orice linie sau vinisoara albastrie
a miinii tale, orisicit de nensemnata,
dupa cum si dinsa pe de rost ma stie
si sa ma uite n-ar mai putea vrodata.<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
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Your hand<\/p>\n
Your hand is not without a reason hot,
or cold, heavy as lead, or soft.
I understand its word, and she lies not,
as does its master usually, oft.<\/p>\n
It’s like a big, pale, shaken leaf
on my forehead, to stay refreshing,
and, when it rests on my shoulders brief
If you’re upset or not, I may be knowing.<\/p>\n
How white are in my hair the fingers of your hand,
and so dreamy they are, to a woman’s resemble,
but for bare arms to shoulder they’re burning, hurting and
I feel like on the tips and in palm they have embers.<\/p>\n
I know each line or blue frail vein
on your hand, it matters not how small,
insomuch as she knows me by heart’s thane
and to forget me never could no more.<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
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2. Doamne, n-am ispr\u0103vit<\/p>\n
Doamne, n-am ispr\u0103vit
c\u00e2ntecul pe care mi l-ai \u015foptit.
Nu-mi trimite \u00eengeri de ghea\u0163\u0103 \u015fi par\u0103
\u00een orice sar\u0103.<\/p>\n
Nu pot pleca. Arborii \u00eemi \u015foptesc;
florile calea-mi a\u0163in \u015fi m\u0103 opresc.
Despre toate-am \u00eenceput o c\u00e2ntare
de laud\u0103 \u015fi naiv\u0103 mirare.<\/p>\n
Oamenilor voiam s\u0103 le las
sufletul meu, drept p\u00e2ne la popas,
drept p\u0103\u015fune, livad\u0103 \u015fi cer.<\/p>\n
Tuturor acelora care nu m\u0103 cer
\u015fi nu m\u0103 cunosc, am vrut s\u0103 le fiu
o candel\u0103 pentru mai t\u00e2rziu.<\/p>\n
C\u0103utam \u00een iarb\u0103 \u015fi-n mohor
tainele ascunse tuturor.
M\u0103 uitam \u00een f\u00e2nt\u00e2n\u0103 \u015fi-n iaz,
\u015fi-ascultam – \u00eendelung – sub brazi…<\/p>\n
Atunci au venit \u00eengerii \u015fi m-au chemat.
Doamne, nu pot pleca, n-am terminat!
Deschide colivia, f\u0103 s\u0103 zboare
c\u00e2ntecele mele ner\u0103bd\u0103toare.<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
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Lord, I haven’t finished<\/p>\n
Lord, I haven’t finished, you see
the song you whispered to me.
Don’t send me ice angels and light
every eventide.<\/p>\n
I can’t leave. The trees whisper from top,
the flowers hold my path to stop.
About all I began a song
of praise and naive wonder, long.<\/p>\n
My soul, to people I wanted to leave
as bread for rest relieve
as pasture, orchard, and sky.<\/p>\n
To all those who don’t ask for my sigh
nor know me, I wanted to be
a candle for later to see.<\/p>\n
I was looking in the weeds and the grass tall
for the secrets hidden from them all.
I looked in the fountain and the pond,
and I listened – long – the fir trees’ sound…<\/p>\n
Then the angels came for me to get.
Lord, I can’t leave, I’m not done yet!
Open the cage, let fly along
my eagerly awaiting song.<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
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3. Copilul meu, sa nu ma cauti<\/p>\n
Copilul meu, s\u0103 nu m\u0103 cau\u0163i. Toate
\u00ee\u0163i vor vorbi de mine cu dreptate.
Dup\u0103 ce n-am s\u0103 mai fiu,
s\u0103 nu spui: “Pentru mama-i t\u00e2rziu”.<\/p>\nS\u0103 \u015ftii c\u0103 am sa r\u00e2d in flori
\u015fi c-am s\u0103-nconjur de multe ori
cu nourii \u015fi cu ploaia ogr\u0103zile
unde mi-am petrecut amiezile.<\/p>\nDac\u0103 suferi, s\u0103 m\u0103 chemi serile,
\u015fi-am s\u0103 vin l\u00e2ng\u0103 inima ta,
de-ar trebui s\u0103 str\u0103bat z\u0103rile
\u015fi marea cu aripa mea.<\/p>\nS\u0103 nu te temi de fa\u0163a mea schimbat\u0103.
S\u0103 nu spui: “Mama n-a fost a\u015fa niciodat\u0103!”
Ai s\u0103-mi cuno\u015fti glasul pove\u015ftilor
\u00een arborii din fa\u0163a fere\u015ftrilor.<\/p>\nDin multe semne-ai s\u0103-n\u0163elegi c\u0103-s eu,
c\u00e2nd am s\u0103 vin l\u00e2ng\u0103 patul t\u0103u
\u015fi-am s\u0103 fac aerul r\u0103coros,
scobor\u00e2nd toate stelele jos.<\/p>\nAi s\u0103 cuno\u015fti c\u0103-i mama, dup\u0103 pace,
\u015fi dup\u0103 felul-n care totul tace \u2013
durerea \u015fi grija de m\u00e2ine \u2013
dup\u0103 mirosul de gutui \u015fi p\u00e2ine.<\/p>\nAi s\u0103 m\u0103 \u015ftii \u015fi-ai s\u0103 z\u00e2mbe\u015fti dormind.
Eu, c\u00e2nd am s\u0103 v\u0103d soarele r\u0103s\u0103rind,
de team\u0103 s\u0103 nu m\u0103 fac rou\u0103 \u015fi s\u0103 nu mor,
am s\u0103-mi iau \u00eengerii \u015fi-am s\u0103 zbor.<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
My child, don’t look for me<\/p>\nMy child don\u2019t look for me. Around
the truth about me will abound.
After I will be gone,
don’t say, “It is late for mom.”<\/p>\nKnow that from the flowers I’ll laugh
and many times, I’ll hold, in behalf
of the clouds and the rain, the grounds
where I’ve spent my noons with no bounds.<\/p>\nIf you suffer, call me in the night,
and I will come beside your heart,
even if I must cross the sky
and the sea with my wings I’ll fly.<\/p>\nDon’t be afraid of my guise though.
Don’t say, “My mother never looked so!”
the voice of my tales you will know
whispered by the trees at your window.<\/p>\nFrom many signs you’ll feel that’s me, deep
when I’ll come to your bed sleep
and I’ll refresh the air anew,
bringing all the stars next to you.<\/p>\nYou will know that is mom, from the peace,
and the way everything is at ease –
the pain and the tomorrow’s dread –
from the scent of quince and bread.<\/p>\nYou will know me, and you’ll smile in your dream.
I, when I’ll see the sun rising in gleam,
fearing that I’ll become dew and I’ll die,
I’ll take all my angels and I’ll fly.<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
4. Murim…ca maine<\/p>\n
E-asa de trist s\u0103 cugeti ca-ntr-o zi,
poate chiar maine, pomii de pe-alee
acolo unde-i vezi or s\u0103 mai stee
voiosi, \u00een vreme ce vom putrezi.<\/p>\n
At\u00e2ta soare, Doamne, -at\u00e2ta soare
o s\u0103 mai fie-n lume dupa noi;
cortegii de-anotimpuri si de ploi,
cu par din care siruie racoare…<\/p>\n
Si iarba asta o s\u0103 mai rasara,
iar luna tot asa o s\u0103 se plece,
mirata, peste apa care trece-
noi singuri n-o s\u0103 fim a doua oara.<\/p>\n
Si-mi pare-asa ciudat ca se mai poate
gasi atata vreme pentru ura,
c\u00e2nd viata e de-abia o picatura
intre minutu-acesta care bate<\/p>\n
si celalalt – si-mi pare ne-nteles
si trist ca nu privim la cer mai des,
ca nu culegem flori si nu zambim,
noi, care-asa de repede murim.<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
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We die…someday<\/p>\n
It is so sad to think that one blessed day,
even tomorrow, all the alley trees
will be there standing still as now we seize,
cheerful, while we’ll be rotting away.<\/p>\n
So much sunlight, dear Lord, so much sunlight
after we go will shine upon the world.
cortege of seasons and of rain unfurled
with hair from which is pouring fresh delight…<\/p>\n
This grass will sprout again in daily chime,
the moon will bend forever just like now,
amazed, over the never-ending flow
just us alone won’t be a second time.<\/p>\n
I find it strange that still it seems we may
find so much time to waste in loathe and hating,
when life is just a drop, a breath that’s bating
between this minute ticking straight away<\/p>\n
and the next one – and I’m feeling unwise
and sad for we don’t watch enough the skies,
that we don’t pick a flower, we don’t smile,
we, dead forever, living just a while.<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
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5. Acum cantecul s-a sfarsit<\/p>\n
Acuma cintecul s-a sfirsit.
Nu stiu de-i bine ori rau.
Din frunze-am cintat. Dumnezeu,
linga mine stind, mi-a soptit.<\/p>\n
De fapt nu era Dumnezeu, era pom.
Si citeodata-avea glas de om.
“Sarbatoreste, mi-a spus el, aceste
cimpii dezmierdate si creste… “<\/p>\n
Si ca o pasare neinvatata
m-am apucat sa cint. Eram mirata
si bucuroasa, si nici n-am simtit
cum trece anotimpul fericit!<\/p>\n
Zburati, cintece, zburati departe,
scuturati-ma de pamint si moarte,
si preamariti natura-n care inca
e liniste si-ntelepciune-adinca.<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
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Now the song is over<\/p>\n
Well, the song is over now
I don’t know if it’s good or bad.
From the leaves I sang. God,
standing next to me, murmured low.<\/p>\n
It wasn’t really God, ’twas a tree.
And sometimes human voice had he
“Celebrate,” he told me, these
caressed fields and the days seize … “<\/p>\n
And like an unlearned bird dazed
I started singing. I was amazed
and happy, and I didn’t even feel
how the happy time flew genteel!<\/p>\n
Fly out, songs, fly far away,
from the earth and death, shake me, pray,
and glorify the nature in which still
there is peace and deep wisdom thrill.<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
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6. Dragostea mea<\/p>\n
Eu stiu ca tu nu meriti dragostea
si-mi place totusi sa ti-o daruiesc;
dar parca balta merita vreo stea,
si totusi c\u00e2te-ntr-\u00eensa s-oglindesc\u2026<\/p>\nNu meriti iarasi clipele de-acum
si g\u00e2ndurile bune c\u00e2te ti le-am dat,
dar parca merita noroiul de pe drum
petalele ce peste el s-au scuturat?<\/p>\nIubirea \u00eensa e ca soarele,
care ram\u00e2ne pururea curat
si dupa ce milos i-a sarutat
leprosului, pe ulita, picioarele\u2026<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
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My Love<\/p>\n
I know that you do not deserve my love
But I’d still like to offer it to you,
Does the swamp deserve stars from above?
And yet, how many are mirroring through!<\/p>\n
You don’t deserve all the moments of now
and the good thoughts that to you I emit,
But does the mud from road deserve somehow,
The petals that were shaken over it.?<\/p>\n
Love is like the sun from heavens sweet
Which forever remains pristine, blessed
Right after he pitifully kissed
The legs of the leper from the street…<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
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7. Intelepciune<\/p>\n
\u00cen\u0163elepciune este s\u00e3 respiri
U\u015for, \u015fi dup\u00e3 lacrimi s\u00e3 z\u00e2mbe\u015fti,
Petalele ce cad din trandafiri
\u015ei nu s-aud c\u00e2nd mor, s\u00e3 le iube\u015fti.<\/p>\n
Prive\u015fte pomii drep\u0163i din b\u00e3t\u00e3tur\u00e3 –
Ei cat\u00e3 totdeauna c\u00e3tre cer,
\u015ei-n ruga lor cea verde parc\u00e3 cer
Mai mult\u00e3 ploaie, mai pu\u0163in\u00e3 ur\u00e3.<\/p>\n
Nu te g\u00e2ndi la m\u00e2ine, nici la ieri.
Poate naintea spicelor s\u00e3 cazi,
St\u00e3p\u00e2ni c\u00e2nd nu suntem dec\u00e2t pe azi,
Nu te g\u00e2ndi la m\u00e2ine, nici la ieri.<\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
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Wisdom<\/p>\n
Wisdom is only to be and breathe
Slowly, and smile after the tears,
The petals falling from the roses
Not heard while dying, love them with no fears.<\/p>\n
Look at the trees straight growing in your yard –
Always towards the sky they’re watching,
In their greenish prayer they seem asking
For more rain, for less hatred in the heart.<\/p>\n
Don’t think of morrow nor of yesterday.
You, Man, may fall ere the spikes are bent,
We, being masters only for the moment,
Don’t think of morrow nor of yesterday.<\/p>\n
traducere, M. M. Biela<\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"\u00a0<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[40],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10588","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-romanian"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10588","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=10588"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10588\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10590,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10588\/revisions\/10590"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=10588"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=10588"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=10588"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}