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Fairy tale queen [Crăiasa din poveste]

White and brightly shining mists
Spins the moon, like airy shields,
Then it spreads them over streams
And across the fallow fields.

Flowers gather on the loom
Where the spider web is thrown
Hanging on the black night's gown
Many beads of precious stone.

Near the lake, on which the clouds
Warped a shade as black as night,
Which the waves break here and there
As if they were balls of light,

Putting the tall reed aside
Bends the maiden, shy and grave,
Throwing roses red like blood
Over the enchanted wave.

Looks ahead to see a face
Where the water's really stirred,
For the lake has been spellbound
By Saint Wednesday's witty word.

And to make the face come out
She is throwing roses young
For they all are surely charmed
By Saint Friday's clever tongue.

She is looking... Her blonde hair
And her face are lit by moon,
While within her deep blue eyes
Fairy tales will gather soon.

poem by Mihai Eminescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Added by anonym
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