Over The Treetops Poem by Peter Mamara

Peter Mamara

Peter Mamara

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Peter Mamara
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Over The Treetops



by M. Eminescu (1850-1889)

The moon goes by over the treetops,
The forest slowly rustles its bushes
And from branches of alder trees
The forests sound sadly.
It sweetens further, much further,
My uncomforted heart
With a slower, much slower
— Wish for death.

When I turn my heart towards you
Why do you keep so quiet?
Would you ever play for me
—A sweet horn?

(1883 December)

Translated by

Monday, March 27, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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Peter Mamara

Peter Mamara

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