To George Bacovia

The subtle and sensitive poem published below was written by the Romanian poet George Bacovia (1881-1957). It is the story of a man (the poet himself?), overwhelmed by metaphysical fears and his lighthearted sweetheart, laughing because of these very fears of his. Please notice the difference in the views of nature between Goethe, in his famous short poem "Over all the Peaks" (published on the second page dedicated to Goethe)and Bacovia, in the "Decembre" poem. Tip: point the stamps with the mouse index to get additional information about the works of art displayed.  

Mademoiselle Lavergne, by J.-F. Liotard Winter, by Alfred Sysley Let me aproach, by Vereshchagin In Winter, by Georges Breitner
  Te uita cum ninge decembre...
Spre geamuri, iubito, priveste

Mai spune s-aduca jaratec
Si focul s-aud cum trosneste.

Si mâna fotoliul spre soba,
La horn să ascult vijelia,
Sau zilele mele -- totuna --
As vrea să le-nvat simfonia.

Mai spune s-aduca si ceaiul,
Si vino si tu mai aproape; --
Citeste-mi ceva de la poluri,
Si ninga... zapada ne-ngroape.

Ce cald e aicea la tine.
Si toate din casa mi-s sfinte; --
Te uita cum ninge decembre...
Nu râde... citeste inainte.

E ziua si ce intuneric...
Mai spune s-aduca si lampa --
Te uita, zapada-i cât gardul,
Si-a prins promoroaca si clampa.

Eu nu mă mai duc azi acasa...
Potop e-napoi si nainte,
Te uita cum ninge decembre,
Nu râde... citeste înainte.

  Look how December is snowing ...
Look toward the windows, my love
Also ask her to bring some ember

And let me hear the fire cracking.

And bring the armchair near to the fire
I will listen to the storm in the chimney,
Or my days - no matter -
I wish to learn their symphony.

Also ask her to bring the tea
And also come nearer;
Read me something from the poles,
And let it snow... the snow shall bury us.

How warm it is here at yours
And all the things in the house are sacred to me;
Look how December is snowing...
Don't laugh... read ahead.

It is still day and what a darkness...
Also ask her to bring the lamp -
Look, the snow is as high as the fence,
And the frost has
stiked the door handle.

I'll not go home today any more...
There is flood back and forth,
Look how December is snowing...
Don't laugh... read ahead.

Taiwan, 1985, The Book of Odes, Confucius, Winter Romania, 1975. Winter in Barbizon, by I . Andreescu Taiwan, 1983, Sung Dynasty Poetry, Yielding Fine Fragrance in the Snow

Bacovia, salut!

Când îmi lipsesti
Si nu vin vesti.
Când vântu' alungă frunze moarte
Si esti atâta de departe...

Când râsul tău a încetat
Si rândunelele-au plecat
Decembre fioros să cerne
Si-n valuri, valuri s-o asterne
Pe somnul meu cel plumburiu...
Jumate mort, jumate viu.


Bacovia, salute!

When I miss you
And no news arrive.
When the wind chases the dead leafs
And you are so far away...

When your laughter stopped
And the swallows went away
December should fiercely sift
And lay it down in waves, waves
On my lead-gray sleep...
Half dead, half alive.


Written by the author of this site, Victor Manta. The definitive version published the 27th of Decembre 1998.

Japan, 1997. Hodogaya, 53 Stations of Tokaido, by Hiroshige Ando Japan, 1997. Kameyama, 53 Stations of Tokaido, by Hiroshige Ando Japan, 1997. Snow View from the Sumida River, by Hiroshige Ando


Created: Decembre 1998. Revised: 07/12/00. Copyright © 1998 - 2000 by Victor Manta, Switzerland. All rights reserved in all countries.

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