Magdalena
When autumn wind through forest crawls
The leafless trees to shake and scold,
You, madam, think of fancy balls, –
I, that my fireplace is cold...
When fluffy flakes of snow appear
From whitish clouds, floating about,
You think of dresses soft and dear, –
I, that my frock is now worn out...
And in those winter nights sublime
When on the piano play a tune,
You think you're cherished all the time, –
I, that I'll sell my body soon...
poem by Iulia Haşdeu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Added by anonym
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