What dreary soul... [Ce suflet trist...]
What dreary soul have given me
My folks, I can't explain,
How come it's filled up to the brim
With restlessness and pain?
What dreary soul, without an aim,
Made of a lifeless clay,
Which after many lies and tricks
Still hopes to find its way?
How come it doesn't feel the curse,
The blows that make it bow?
O, waves of the majestic sea,
Please, take me with you now!
poem by Mihai Eminescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Added by anonym
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