As I hope my end will have mercy and sooner come

And will not make me wait to sink in my faults’ sum,

I don’t deserve to live with my regrets, neither to die,

And I have always dreamed in vain to find eternity until my soul will be taken by

 

The almighty Lord of Heavens and it would be a big lie

If I thought that I am at least able to repent, to cry

Because old tears have dried so I have no other way to purify

Not even a magic penny that little of God’s clemency would buy.

 

I am damnable, I have committed ignominious murder

And in these hard moments, my future cannot go on further

And you, cruel people, why are you starring at me

Or are my sufferings that make you full with glee?

 

Don’t you know, harsh people how would be

If in my miserable shoes were also thee?

It’s the sadness and sorrow and pain that make me tremble, sweat

And in these moments I cannot stop thinking at my dear, lovely black cat.

 

I hear her crying, I am gloomy and I get scared

I don’t know what to do, as I’m going mad

My fear made from my heart a cowardly, ridiculous shape

And caused all my left dignity to suffer, to know the word “to violate”

 

The lonely, wondering song of death hides frightened in my dark hair

As if it would like madness to be my mind’s heir.

The loud voice of my beloved wife and cat into haunting echo is soon to change

Finally becomes my devouring obsession, the dark whisper of my cat who’s crying out its revenge!

 

GEORGE BACOVIA

DÉCEMBRE

 

Voilà comme neige ce mois de décembre,

Regardez les vitres, ma bien-aimée.

Dites qu’on apporte encore de la braise -

Je veux entendre le feu crépiter.

 

Et poussez mon fauteuil avant l’âtre

Pour que j’entende, dans la cheminée,

La tourmente de mes jours – ou tout comme,

Je veux leur symphonie discerner.

 

Et dites qu’on apporte aussi le thé

Et rapprochez-vous donc davantage,

Dites-moi des histoires des deux pôles –

Que tombe la neige, qu’on y fasse naufrage.