The Story I Would Tell Her Poem by Peter Mamara

by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)

Oh, give me my copper harp
And place it on my left hand.
Your eyes lower shyly.
My voice calls you. You go red in the face.
The harp's strings cry for you.
So come, blonde goddess you.
Put your face on my chest
— And your neck on my right hand.
You — my eyes' light —
Do you love me? Tell me truth.

You do love me. You smile slyly
And you lower your eye.
Oh — the most pure glow —
If you could ever know
— My sad soul,
Pale angel you — if you knew,
How much I love you…
And how many nights of love, and bad time too,
Overwhelmed by objections I was watching,
My dear, my adorable thing…

Oh, then you'd summon me in an instant
To tell you what I've dreamed about.
You would look at me with passion, without fear.
You'd uncurl from your temple, your neat blond hair.
Your dark veil you'd push aside,
Clearing your face with you small white hand.
You'd look at me, and painfully you'd smile.
And playing at your bosoms with the collar from your neck,
I would speak.

My love, I would tell you,
That for a long time I looked for you
Through the already green fields,
Or through the fir woods,
Close to the sound of the water springs,
Through the squeezed cliffs,
Which pierce the sky's clouds,
Through the cool of the caves,
I searched for you
— Into the night's mystery.

I saw you with my mind
And now that I have found you
Seems that I remember
How in the past
I saw you and I loved you —
And I'll tell you where
I had a beautiful dream, at the end of a day.
It seemed that on a cloud full of light
I saw a stairway to heaven
Rising from the ground.
The gold stairway faded away
Through the sheer-size of the sky,
And on an eternal throne,
Virgin Mary was smiling.
And on the stair's shape
Angels sat gently on every step,
Having gentle and radiant features,
And they played on sounding lyres,
— Sweetly and clearly.

And kneeled at Mary's feet,
On a silver cloud
—White like the swan of the wilderness,
Gentle like the poetry's tone of voice —
There is an angel lost in thought.
She took her gold wing in her hand.
And passing her other hand through it,
The heavens and its laurel fields
Started to reverberate with an Ave Maria.

And that angel with her pale features
Her blue eye and blond curls
I saw her — a triumphal light, a royal star —
And, oh my… since then I love her,

I searched for that angel on this planet
Until my life was lost,
And my heart was sidetracked…
And then a miracle happened. I saw you.
That angel was you.

Dear, when did you live heavens behind?
Why did you come into the world?
Did you know that all my life,
My sad and drifter heart,
Loved only you from the start?
You knew who waits for you,
And you came to reward
My lengthy pain in this world
With your wise smiles
— And with you celestial eyes.

(1869)

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