Being A Lad, I Roamed The Woods Poem by Peter Mamara

by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)

Being a lad I roamed the woods
I slept next to the spring, so many times.
And I put my right arm under my head
So I could hear how the water sounds.

A gentle fret passed from branch to branch
And a drowsy scent got here.
And so I went for many nights
Being endorsed by a blast of waves.

The moon rises. It glows straight onto my face.
Through my eyelids I see a paradise from tales.
On a field, the sky shows a silver fog veil.
And flashes it directly over the waters.

A baffling horn plays harmoniously,
Sounding gradually, much nearby.
On dried leaves or through the grass height
It seemed that I could hear stags coming.

Near by, the old linden tree has opened.
A young queen comes out of it.
My eyes full of dreams open in tears.
When she came next to me.

She walks on leaves slowly, like in her sleep
— With her head in thick veil.
She tiptoes on her small feet
With large eye, and her mouth hardly closed.

And she stared with desire at me.
And oh, she was so pretty,
How only in your dream, in one's entire life
Appears a gentle angel with shiny face
That comes straight from heaven.

And her blond hair, soft like silk,
Covered her shoulders, and her white neck.
Without a doubt, one could see her white body
— Through her fine fabric dress.

(1883, July)

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