Niciodată toamna… (English)

Never Has Autumn…

Never has autumn looked more beautiful
To our soul so pleased with dying.
The plain bedded with silk so pale,
Trees weaving brocades for the clouds.
The plain bedded with silk so pale,
Trees weaving brocades for the clouds.

The houses lined up like pitchers
With wine aged on their clay bottom,
Stand on the blue bank of the sun’s stream
From whose mire we drank gold.
Stand on the blue bank of the sun’s stream
From whose mire we drank gold.

The black birds fly up into the sunset,
Like the ailing leaf of the gray hornbeam
That sheds its leaves, flicking them away
Into the azure sky.

He who wants to weep, he who wants to mourn,
Come and hear the unintelligible call,
And with his eyes on the poplars’ ethereal flare
Bury his shadow in their shadow, in the plain.
And with his eyes on the poplars’ ethereal flare
Bury his shadow in their shadow, in the plain.

Artist: Tudor Gheorghe

Tag: Niciodată toamna…, Tudor Gheorghe, English, translation, lyrics translations
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