Project comenius bilateral

PROJECT COMENIUS BILATERAL

Languages, cultures and greener future connecting people

A book with short stories, rhymes and poems, tales, comic strips, famous writers

"Romanian-Lithuanian eco-story has his own world?"


Romania Lithuania



2013-2015
Realised by: Students and Teachers from Romanian Team and Lithuanian Team

România

Mihai Eminescu
Sleepy birds

All those sleepy birds
Now tired from flight
Hide among the leaves
Good-night!

Only the spring whispers

When the wood sleeps silently;
Even flowers in the gardens
Sleep peacefully!

Swans glide to their nest

Sheltering among the reeds
May angels guard your rest,
Sweet dreams!

Above a night of sorcery

Comes the moon's graceful light,
All is peace and harmony
Good-night!
Somnoroase păsărele...

Somnoroase păsărele
Pe la cuiburi se adună,
Se ascund în rămurele -
Noapte bună!

Doar izvoarele suspină,

Pe când codrul negru tace;
Dorm şi florile-n grădină -
Dormi în pace!

Trece lebăda pe ape

Între trestii să se culce -
Fie-ţi îngerii aproape,
Somnul dulce!

Peste-a nopţii feerie

Se ridică mândra lună,
Totu-i vis şi armonie -
Noapte bună!






Sonnet I

Without 'tis autumn, the wind beats on the pane
With heavy drops, the leaves high upwards sweep.
You take old letters from a crumpled heap,
And in one hour have lived your life again.

Musing, in this sweet wise the moments creep:

You pray no caller will your door attain;
Better it is when dreary falls the rain
To dream before the fire, awaiting sleep.

And thus alone, reclining in my chair,

The fairy Dochia's tale comes to my mind
While round me haze is gath'ring in the air.

Then softly down the passage footsteps wind,

Faint, sound of rustling silk upon the stair...
And now my eyes cold, tapering fingers bind.

(1879, Translated by Corneliu M. Popescu)
Sonet I

Afară-i toamnă, frunză-mprăştiată,
Iar vântul zvârle-n geamuri grele picuri;
Şi tu citeşti scrisori din roase plicuri
Şi într-un ceas gândeşti la viaţa toată.

Pierzându-ţi timpul tău cu dulci nimicuri,

N-ai vrea ca nime-n uşa ta să bată;
Dar şi mai bine-i, când afară-i zloată,
Să stai visând la foc, de somn să picuri.

Şi eu astfel mă uit din jeţ pe gânduri,

Visez la basmul vechi al zânei Dochii;
În juru-mi ceaţa creşte rânduri-rânduri;

Deodat-aud foşnirea unei rochii,

Un moale pas abia atins de scânduri...
Iar mâini subţiri şi reci mi-acopăr ochii.




Sonnet II

The years have sped, and time still swiftly flies
Since that first sacred hour in which we met;
But how we loved I can no more forget,
Sweet wonder with cold hands and such big eyes.

O, come again! Your words inspire me yet,

While your soft gaze upon me gently lies,
That'neath its ray new life in shall rise,
And you new songs upon my lyre beget.

When you come near to me you little know

How soothed my heart is then, as though with balm,
As when some star does in the heavens show;

Your childish smile so full of tender charm

Has power to quench this life drawn out in woe
And fill my eyes with fire, my soul with calm.

(1879, Translated by Corneliu M. Popescu)




Sonet II

Sunt ani la mijloc şi-ncă mulţi vor trece

Din ceasul sfânt în care ne-ntâlnirăm,
Dar tot mereu gândesc cum ne iubirăm,
Minune cu ochi mari şi mână rece.

O, vino iar! Cuvinte dulci inspiră-mi,

Privirea ta asupra mea se plece,
Sub raza ei mă lasă a petrece
Şi cânturi nouă smulge tu din liră-mi.

Tu nici nu ştii a ta apropiere

Cum inima-mi de-adânc o linişteşte,
Ca răsărirea stelei în tăcere;

Iar când te văd zâmbind copilăreşte,

Se stinge-atunci o viaţă de durere,
Privirea-mi arde, sufletul îmi creşte.


Sonnet III

When e'en the inner voice of thought is still,
And does some sacred chant my soul endear,
'Tis then I call to thee; but will you hear?
Will from the floating mists your form distil?

Will night its tender power of wonder rear

And your great, peaceful eyes their light fulfil,
That of the rays that bygone hours spill
To me as in a dream you do appear?

But come to me... come near, come still more near...

Smiling you bend to gaze into my face
While does your sigh gentle love make clear.

Upon my eyes I feel you lashes' trace,

O love, for ever lost, for ever dear,
To know the aching thrill of your embrace!

(1879, Translated by Corneliu M. Popescu)

Sonet III

Când însuşi glasul gândurilor tace,

Mă-ngână cântul unei dulci evlavii -
Atunci te chem; chemarea-mi asculta-vei?
Din neguri reci plutind te vei desface?

Puterea nopţii blând însenina-vei

Cu ochii mari şi purtători de pace?
Răsai din umbra vremilor încoace,
Ca să te văd venind - ca-n vis, aşa vii!

Cobori încet... aproape, mai aproape,

Te pleacă iar zâmbind peste-a mea faţă,
A ta iubire c-un suspin arat-o,

Cu geana ta m-atinge pe pleoape,

Să simt fiorii strângerii în braţe -
Pe veci pierduto, vecinic adorato!


One Wish Alone Have I

One wish alone have I:
          In some calm land
Beside the sea to die;
          Upon its strand
That I forever sleep,
          The forest near,
          A heaven near,
Stretched over the peaceful deep.
          No candles shine,
Nor tomb I need, instead
Let them for me a bed
          Of twigs entwine.

That no one weeps my end,

          Nor for me grieves,
But let the autumn lend
          Tongues to the leaves,
When brooklet ripples fall
          With murmuring sound,
          And moon is found
Among the pine-trees tall,
          While softly rings
The wind its trembling chime
And over me the lime
          Its blossom flings.

As I will then no more

          A wanderer be,
Let them with fondness store
          My memory.
And Lucifer the while,
          Above the pine.
          Good comrade mine,
Will on me gently smile;
          In mournful mood,
The sea sings sad refrain ...
And I be earth again
          In solitude.

(Translated by Corneliu M. Popescu)

Mai am un singur dor

Mai am un singur dor:
În liniştea serii
Să mă lăsaţi să mor
La marginea mării;

Să-mi fie somnul lin

Şi codrul aproape,
Pe-ntinsele ape
Să am un cer senin.

Nu-mi trebuie flamuri,

Nu voi sicriu bogat,
Ci-mi împletiţi un pat
Din tinere ramuri.

Şi nime-n urma mea

Nu-mi plângă la creştet,
Doar toamna glas să dea
Frunzişului veşted.

Pe când cu zgomot cad

Izvoarele-ntruna,
Alunece luna
Prin vârfuri lungi de brad.

Pătrunză talanga

Al serii rece vânt,
Deasupră-mi teiul sfânt
Să-şi scuture creanga.

Cum n-oi mai fi pribeag

De-atunci înainte,
M-or troieni cu drag
Aduceri aminte.

Luceferi, ce răsar

Din umbră de cetini,
Fiindu-mi prieteni,
O să-mi zâmbească iar.

Va geme de patemi

Al mării aspru cânt...
Ci eu voi fi pământ
În singurătate-mi.

Nichita Stănescu

(1933 - 1983)

Winter song
You are so beautiful in winter!
The field stretched on its back, near the horizon,
and the trees stopped running from the winter wind ...
My nostrils tremble
and no scent
and no breeze
only the distant, icy smell
of the suns.
How transparent your hands are in winter!
And no one passes -
only the white suns revolve in quiet worship.
and the thought spreads in circles
ringing the trees
in twos
in fours.

From the book "Bas-Relief with Heroes"
english translation by Thomas Carlson and Vasile Poenaru.


Field in Spring

Green rings around the eyes, this grass in vibrant motion

arcs tenderly about you, at a distance-
you summon it, then fling it round, broken
by your laugh of youth and innocence.

Stretched under you, this curling dome of grass

would sound its voices in the gravel-
but you are unaware - and now you pass
through foreign stars, a fool.




Burned forest

Black snow was falling. The tree line

shone when I turned to see -
I had wondered long and silent,
alone, trailing memory behind me.

And it seemed the stars, fixed as they were,

ground their teeth, a stiffened nexus,
an infernal machine, tolling
the halted hours of conciousness.

Then, a thick silence descends,

and my every gesture
leaves a comet tail in the heavens.

And I hear evey glance I cast

as it echoes against
some tree.

Child, what were you seeking there,

with your gangly arms and pointed shoulders
on which the wings were barely dry -
black snow drifting in the evening sky.

A horizon howling, far from view,

darting its tongues and anthracite,
dragged me forever down the mute row,
my body, half naked, sliding from sight.

In distances of smoke the town afire,

blazing beneath the planes, a frigid pyre.
We two, forest, what did we do?
Why did they burn you, forest, in a toga of ash -
and the moon no longer passes over you?

From the book "Bas-Relief with Heroes"
english translation by Thomas Carlson and Vasile Poenaru.
Lună în câmp

Cu mâna stângă ţi-am întors spre mine chipul,

sub cortul adormiţilor gutui
şi de-aş putea să-mi rup din ochii tăi privirea,
văzduhul serii mi-ar părea căprui.

Mi s-ar părea că desluşesc, prin crenge,

zvelţi vânători, în arcuiţii lei
din goana calului, cum îşi subţie arcul.
0, tinde-ţi măna stângă catre ei

şi stinge tu conturul lor de lemn subţire

pe care ramurile i-au aprins,
suind sub luna-n seve caii repezi
ce-au rătăcit cu timpul, pe întins.

Eu te privesc în ochi şi-n jur să şterg copacii

În ochii tăi cu luna mă răsfrâng
... şi ai putea, uitând, să ne striveşti în gene
dar chipul ţi-l întorn, pe braţul stâng.

Primăvara

Primejdii dulci alcătuind sub gene,

mi te iveşti istovitor de dulce
cu sânii bulbucaţi zvâcnind să culce
pe ei sărutul lutului, alene.

Te stingi încet din mine, iară

sub piept loveşte-n căldărim o minge
şi ziua pe trotuare se prelinge,
lăsând în urmă-i iz de primăvară.

Alături de mocirlele uscate

ies pomii toţi cu trunchiurile-n floare
Hei... zi cu soare-n zare, spune-mi oare
cam câte fete-s astăzi deflorate?

Un orizont pierdut, cu buze roşii

sărută-n creştet noaptea pe hotare
Cocoarele revin din depărtare
şi mor în primăvară ofticoşii...

George Coșbuc	(1866 - 1918)

Spring harbingers

From sunny countries and skies blue
From which last automn-tide you flew,
Return, dear birds, where you belong,
Most welcome, you!
The woods, bereft of leaf and song,
Weep for they have missed you too long.

In the eternal dome of azure

Did you not dream with longside pleasure
Of what you left? Did you not sigh
For dear Home's leisure?
Or cry when seeing in the sky
The clouds that northwardly did hie?

You sang to Nature paeans fraught

With holiness, strangers you taught
Our soulful doinas when, at times,
Of us you thought.
But did you tell them that their rhymes
Excle all those of other climes?

Now you come home - and you will see,

Again, the wood, the field, the lea,
Your nests in groves, so warm and deep;
'Tis summer, verily.
I feel I have a mind to leap,
To laugh for joy, for joy to weep!

You come accompanied by flowers,

By gentle winds and sun-warmed showers,
And nights so rife with honey-dew,
And cheerful hours.
You thus take everything with you,
And bring back everything anew.




The shadow

Your burnt offspring's smoke will wind

Peacefully towards the skies
Only if you bear in mind
That when you go to the sun,
Your dark shadow is behind.

Silent slave whom the grim lord

Summons by a silent gesture,
He takes heed, humble and awed,
Of the slightest beckoning,
And keeps everything well scored.

He's your bondman when your flight

Is directed to the sun;
He hurts not, he's out of sight;
Holy rays surround your forehead,
And you do advance in light.

But your shadow councils ill

When you leave the sun behind;
He will cloud your face until
Your keen eyes become purblind --
He is nothing but ill-will!

Shadow, sun, shrine, smoke, and glow!

Useless is my tale, unless
You have understood it. So --
You may choose! You are just starting;
I have long been on the go.
Decebal to his people

This life is a lost boon if you
Don't live it as you wanted to!
Much would a warlike, ruthless foe
Enslave us all! Our birth, we know,
Was woe enough; would you get through
Another dreadful woe?

Death, even for a godlike scion,

Is a hard law, as hard as iron!
It is all one to breathe one's last
A lad or an old man bypast,
But not the same to die a lion
Or a poor dog chained fast.

What if you fight in the first line,

What if by great exploits you shine?
A grumbler cannot better be
Than those who fear to fight and flee!
To murmur is to have no spine
And make a bootless plea!

Like dead men, cowards will keep still!

The living - let them laugh at will!
The really good ones laugh and die.
Hold, therefore, heroes, your brows high
And let your lusty cheering fill
Both hell and earth and sky!

Blood may in floods and torrents flow,

The arm assail with spear and blow,
When the fierce enemies are dead!
Well, you may think yourself Godhead,
When you but laugh at what the foe
Does more than all else dread.

They're Romans, we know that. So what?

Where they not Romans but our god,
Zamolxes, with his creatures, still
We would, sure, ask them what they will -
They won't get of our land a jot:
They have their skies to fill!

Now, men, to sword and shield and horn!

'Twas bad enough that we were born;
But he is free to go whose fright
Makes him too dastardly to fight,
And if there is someone foresworn,
Let him avoid our sight!

What I have told you is enow!

You swore on shields your oath of love
For Dacia! Might resides in you
And in the gods! But, heroes, know
That they, the gods, are far above,
Our foes - at a stone's throw!




Decebal către popor

Viaţa asta-i bun pierdut
Când n-o trăieşti cum ai fi vrut!
Şi-acum ar vrea un neam călău
S-arunce jug în gâtul tău:
E rău destul că ne-am născut,
Mai vrem şi-al doilea rău?

Din zei de-am fi scoborâtori,

C-o moarte tot suntem datori!
Totuna e dac-ai murit
Flăcău ori moş îngârbovit;
Dar nu-i totuna leu să mori
Ori câine-nlănţuit.

Cei ce se luptă murmurând,

De s-ar lupta şi-n primul rând,
Ei tot atât de buni ne par
Ca orişicare laş fugar!
Murmurul, azi şi orişicând,
E plânset în zadar!

Iar a tăcea şi laşii ştiu!

Toţi morţii tac! Dar cine-i viu
Să râdă! Bunii râd şi cad!
Să râdem, dar, viteaz răsad,
Să fie-un hohotit şi-un chiu
Din ceruri până-n iad!

De-ar curge sângele pârău,

Nebiruit e braţul tău
Când morţii-n faţă nu tresari!
Şi însuţi ţie-un zeu îţi pari
Când râzi de ce se tem mai rău
Duşmanii tăi cei tari.

Ei sunt romani! Şi ce mai sunt?

Nu ei, ci de-ar veni Cel-sfânt,
Zamolxe, c-un întreg popor
De zei, i-am întreba: ce vor?
Şi nu le-am da nici lor pământ
Căci ei au cerul lor!

Şi-acum, bărbaţi, un fier şi-un scut!

E rău destul că ne-am născut:
Dar cui i-e frică de război
E liber de-a pleca napoi,
Iar cine-i vânzător vândut
Să iasă dintre noi!

Eu nu mai am nimic de spus!

Voi braţele jurând le-aţi pus
Pe scut! Puterea este-n voi
Şi-n zei! Dar vă gândiţi, eroi,
Că zeii sunt departe, sus,
Duşmanii lângă noi!