In Vain The Time Wipes Out Poem by Peter Mamara

by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)

In vain the time wipes out the track of my thoughts.
You are dug into my mind, like in cold marble.
My poor memory hurls the fleet of my dreams into the night.
All go by like the wind, but you shape does not.

I always whisper in my mind a name, day and night.
I always hug with my arms my sick chest.
I look for you far and wide, and I can't find you there.
Cute silhouette you, with your head turned to your left shoulder.

You froze like this, still, into my mind, forever adorable.
And I see your lovely profile forever, like it's real.
Oh, why can't I overwhelm you in my arms, while I sob?
— My life's blonde woman you, and love's babe.

In vain, I look to take a rest on a soft cushion.
It seems that I rest my head on a stone.
And all night my eyes drench in tears.
My mind might've plunged into eternal darkness.

Your image will survive to the last string inside my heart.
While at least, I still have a drop of blood into my chest.
My heartstrings shall hug greedily your icon,
And with it, they all shall die as one.

Oh, heaven of my youth you, from where I'm driven out.
I look at you with desire like Adam looked at Eve.
I don't think I was happy, even for a time.
But I expire. I expire of pain, because I don't have you in my arm.

(1876)


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