SILBO DE LA LLAGA PERFECTA / FLUIERATUL RANII PERFECTE / THE WHISTLING OF THE PERFECT SORE

POSTED IN classic poetry June 21, 2022

SILBO DE LA LLAGA PERFECTA / FLUIERATUL RANII PERFECTE / THE WHISTLING OF THE PERFECT SORE

Ábreme, amor, la puerta
de la llaga perfecta.
Abre, amor mío, abre
la puerta de mi sangre.
Abre, para que salgan
todas las malas ansias.
Abre, para que huyan
las intenciones turbias.
Abre, para que sean
fuentes puras mis venas,
Mis manos cardos mondos,
pozos quietos mis ojos.
Abre, que viene el aire
de tus palabras… ¡Abre!
Abre, amor, que ya entra…
¡Ay!
Que no se salga… ¡Cierra!

………………

Fluieratul rănii perfecte

Deschide-mi usa, iubite
usa ranii absolute.
Deschide, dragoste, frange
ușa pentru al meu sange.
Deschide, spre a goni
toate poftele impure.
Deschide, pentru-a iesi
si dorintele obscure.
Deschide, pentru a fi
venele-mi izvoare pure ,
mâinile-mi sunt maracini,
ochii mi-s mute fântâni,
Deschide, spre mine vine
aerul vorbei din tine!
Vine, iubire, deschide!…
Oh!
Spre-a nu iesi… Închide!

………………

The whistling of the perfect sore

Open to me, love, the door
of the perfect sore.
Open, my love, with a thud
the door of my blood.
Open, so they go astray
all the evil cravings.
Open, so they run away
all murky intentions.
Open, that my veins may be
springs so pure in spells
thistles are my hands, and see
my eyes are still wells.
Open, the air of your words
comes, to you it flows…!
Open, love, let it inside…
Oh!
Don’t let it out… Close!

 

trad. M. M. Biela