Why Should You Die?
by Mihai Eminescu (1850-1889)
You are not pretty, Martha, but when your blond head leans
With charm on your chest, which sighs,
You seem to me an angel, who cries loudly outside,
Or like a dazzling moon, on a drifter of a haze.
So, you too, pass through the world like a legend of a seer.
You are poor, although you’re rich. You’re sad but funny.
Why cry? Why you want to die? Why should you be at fault
If your face is unattractive, while, your years are passionate?
If you knew how much your feelings and
Your tender gaze makes you desirable and worthy of being loved,
You may laugh through your tears,
You may hide your sweet and sneaky face in your blond hair.
Others are much prettier, much prouder, and much wealthier,
But like a cold statue, they don’t have heart at all.
While you… You have a pure heart and are trusty like an angel.
And you would keep an eye on the one you love, forever.
Wipe your eyes blonde Martha you. Your big and intense blue eyes,
Like two stars, are like the eternity and like your open-heart.
Oh, you don't know how sweet, how tender, and how marvellous is
For one to become disoriented in these eyes — shined in heavy tears.
Oh smile, smile at last! So I can see you as a saint,
A sufferer for a cause, who smiles for the world desire and torment,
While your sweet eyes, full of tears,
Look up to the starry dome for prayers.
Have you smiled? Oh, you are pretty… An angel from paradise you are.
And looking at you, I'm afraid… since I swear
I wouldn’t be surprised if you grew wings and you flew to heavens
And looked at the wicked guys, how they fade away into the abyss.
Comments about this poem (Why Should You Die? by Peter Mamara )
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