Hector and Andromache (after Schiller)
by Mihai Eminescu (1850-1889)
When the night with frog sounds swallows you in it,
Does Hector want to leave me forever
And go to where Achilles with his own hand
Brings offerings to Patroclus on any day?
Who will be the one who shall teach your son in the future,
So, he could throw lances and adore Olympus-deities?
Dear to me woman you, dry up your tears.
My wish aims for a tough fight.
These hands shall save from harm the threatened Pergamum.
And if in my fight for the gods' sacred-home,
I shall fall — as the homeland saviour — then finally
I shall go down to Styx River, trailed by glory.
Oh, I shall never hear the boom of weapons.
And your sword shall be placed to rest at the gateways.
The Priam’s great kin of brave men shall be wiped out.
I shall go where the day, forever doesn’t shed light.
There, where the coyote howls on the wilderness-length.
There, where your love shall die — in Lethe.
Any wish in me, any thought in me,
I shall lay it to rest into the river of shush — in Lethe
— But my love I won’t.
Listen to him — the wild guy, how he gets mad next to the walls.
You gird my sword around your waist, and dress yourself in mourning,
Since Hector’s love doesn’t die in Lethe.
Comments about this poem (Hector and Andromache (after Schiller) by Peter Mamara )
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