How many times, baby, I remember,
The ice ocean appears to me before:
On the white vault a star does not look,
Far away the yellow moon - a spot;
And over thousands of fast waves
A bird floats with wings,
When her first mate was gone
With a whole bunch of birds, losing the sunset.
She dropped hers after suffering,
It does not even look bad now, not well ... it does not die,
Visiting for a moment with the years back.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
We are still farther away from both,
Increasingly more and more secure and frosty,
When you lose in the eternal morning.
Love poetry
Mihai Eminescu