And When I Shall Be Dust Poem by Peter Mamara

by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)

(Variant)

And when I shall be dust,
In the quiet of the sunset,
At the shore of the sea
A grave you should dig for me.
A rich coffin I don't want
— Nor flags or any ornament.
But you shall weave for me a bed
Made from dried tree branches.

My sleep shall be quiet
And the woods close by.
I should have clear skies
— Above the deep waters.

I should always hear,
How the streams slowly flow.
The moon shall move slowly
— Over the top of fir trees.

I should hear and wind over the waves.
— And the cattle bells from the mountains.
The sacred linden tree
Should stir its branch above me.

And from then on,
I wouldn't suffer.
Memories would cover me.
— With flowers.

And when, with a snap
My heart's fret shall stop.
The soft sound of the horn,
Would sound for me so sweetly.

Lights on the hills
Would burn around me.
The eternal waves,
Pounding, would fizz.

And no one behind me
Should cry at my head.
And to the dried leaves,
The woods should send a breeze.

Fiery stars on top of fir tree branches,
Shall fix their eyes
On an unlucky tomb
Which has no friends left behind.

(1883 December)

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