Posted by Rada, there’s a flower between her teeth,
A flaming wild rose twig
She’s spinning, jumping down
Her hair is flying: a swarm of bees in the sun.
Bending, wining, springing up and down,
In her neck a coin lace is jingling
As a foaming bit.
She’s leaning half, taking short steps,
She stops, from hip she’s shooting arrows to the sky,
High, where at nights the Archer
Blocks the way of silver eagles.
Her legs are opening
And her girlhood, a black rose
As if a box opened and closed
And in it a blood ruby would burn.
She should be hugged and kissed.
I would overcome her ivy body
As the blacksmith throws
The death neighing colt to the ground.
Say her not to do it.
Her dance is willow, water and water-lily,
In it gardens, birds, icons are playing music.
Her fragrance makes me ill.
My mother, I will die of it.
Bring her here, let she dance and whine
While she’s lying.
translated by Ági Dénes
Tudor Arghezi (1880-1967) Romanian poet