EMILY BRONTE

Remembrance

Cold in the earth – and the deep snow piled above thee,
Far, far removed, cold in the dreary grave!
Have I forgot, my only Love, to love thee,
Severed at last by Time's all-severing wave?

Now, when alone, do my thoughts no longer hover
Over the mountains, on that northern shore,
Resting their wings where heath and fern leaves cover
Thy noble heart forever, ever more?

Cold in the earth – and fifteen wild Decembers,
From those brown hills, have melted into spring;
Faithful, indeed, is the spirit that remembers
After such years of change and suffering!

Sweet Love of youth, forgive, if I forget thee,
While the world's tide is bearing me along;
Other desires and other hopes beset me,
Hopes which obscure, but cannot do thee wrong!

No later light has lightened up my heaven,
No other star has ever shone for me;
All my life's bliss from thy dear life was given,
All my life's bliss is in the grave with thee.

But, when the days of golden dreams had perished,
And even Despair was powerless to destroy,
Then did I learn how existence could be cherished,
Strengthened, and fed without the aid of joy.

Then did I check the tears of useless passion –
Weaned my young soul from yearning after thine;
Sternly denied its burning wish to hasten
Down to that tomb already more than mine.

And, even yet, I dare not let it languish,
Dare not indulge in memory's rapturous pain;
Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish,
How could I seek the empty world again?

Ruxandra Diaconu

Emily Bronte
 

Reamintire
 

Simt rece-acum pamantul – si ce troieni cumplite
Stau adunate-asupra sumbrului tau mormant!
Uitat-am eu iubirea-mi sa ti-o inchin, Iubite,
Ne-au despartit, in fine, valuri de timp trecand?

Azi, singura pe lume, gandu-mi nu vrea sa zboare
Prin vise, peste munti, zburdand cu bucurie,
Ci-si odihneste aripile acolo unde doare
Chiar floarea ce-ti acopera inima-n vesnicie.

Simt rece-acum pamantul – si ierni cinci peste zece
Din negrii munti topitu-s-au din nou in primaveri,
O! Cat de credincios e sufletul ce trece
Spre amintiri pierdute in ani plini de dureri!

Vis dulce de iubire, de te-oi uita, ma iarta,
De ale vremii valuri frunza purtata-n hau;
Sperante si dorinte haine greu ma-ncearca,
Şi ma ranesc, ma-ntuneca, dar nu-ti pot face rau!

Nicio lumina inca nu s-a aprins pe ceru-mi,
Nici alta stea vreodata n-a mai lucit spre mine;
Tot ce-a fost bun in lume a ta viata datu-mi,
Tot ce-a fost bun in lume e in mormant cu tine.

Dar cand sfarsit-au zilele in blandul vis de aur,
Şi nici chiar disperarea mai rau nu ma ranea,
Atuncea invatat-am viata sa-mi fac tezaur,
Si s-o-ntaresc – dar fara bucurii –si ma durea.

Atunci oprit-am plansul marii iubiri pierdute,
Sa nu se stinga sufletu-mi strivit de dorul tau,
Innabusindu-i greu dorinta de-a se-ascunde
In cel mormant deja atat de mult al meu.

Si nici acuma nu cutez a ma lasa furata,
Povara amintirii a o purta nu pot;
Dupa sublimul vis a tot ce-a fost odata
Cum m-aş putea intoarce in lumea fara rost?