In the forest thick and stout [La mijloc de codru des]
In the forest thick and stout
All the birds are coming out
Of the cold and gloomy shade
Into the delightful glade,
Near the clear and little lake
Where the reeds will gently shake
And afraid of being drowned
Stick their roots deep in the ground,
Where the moon and stars will shine,
Where the birds will cross in line,
Where will stay the moon and sun,
And the swallows will not shun,
For it mirrors my dear one.
poem by Mihai Eminescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Added by anonym
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