016. Craiasa din povesti
the fairy queen||stories
016. Die märchenhafte Fee
016. The fairy tale fairy
016. A fada dos contos de fadas
016. Сказочная фея
CRAIASA DIN POVESTI
the Fairy Queen||fairy tales
THE STORY OF STORIES
Neguri albe, stralucite Naste luna argintie, Ea le scoate peste ape, Le întinde pe câmpie;
mist (1)|white|shining|Rises|moon|silver|She||brings them|over the|the waters|them|spreads them|on|plain
White, bright mists Born the silver moon, She brings them out over the waters, She spreads them on the plain;
S-adun flori în sezatoare De painjen tort sa rumpa, Si anina-n haina noptii Boabe mari de piatra scumpa.
S(1)||flowers|in|sewing circle|of|spider|cake|to|break|And|hang|in|the garment|of the night|Beads|large|of|stone|precious stone
Flowers gather in the sitters Of the cake crumbs to break, And anina in the coat of the night Large grains of precious stone.
Lânga lac, pe care norii Au urzit o umbra fina, Rupta de miscari de valuri Ca de bulgari de lumina,
By the|lake|||the clouds|have|weaved|a|shadow|fine|broken|of|movements|of the|waves|like|of|clumps|of|light
Near the lake, on which the clouds Woven a fine shadow, Broken by the movements of the waves Like the lumps of light,
Dându-si trestia-ntr-o parte, Sta copila lin plecata, Trandafiri arunca rosii Peste unda fermecata.
Giving||the reed|in|one||Stands|the girl|calmly|leaning|Roses|throws|red|over the|the wave|enchanted wave
Putting his cane aside, The child sits gently, Roses throw tomatoes Over the enchanted wave.
Ca sa vad-un chip, se uita Cum alearga apa-n cercuri, Caci vrajit de mult e lacul De-un cuvânt al sfintei Miercuri;
To|||of a|face|it|he looks|how|runs|water||circles|for|enchanted|||is||of|of a||of||Wednesday
To see a face, he looks How the water runs in circles, For the lake is enchanted for a long time By a word of holy Wednesday;
Ca sa iasa chipu-n fata, Trandafiri arunca tineri, Caci vrajiti sunt trandafirii De-un cuvânt al sfintei Vineri.
||to come out|||||throw|young ones||enchanted|are|||a|word|||Saint Friday
To stand out in the face, Roses throw young people, For the roses are enchanted By a word of good Friday.
Ea se uita... Paru-i galben, Fata ei lucesc în luna, Iar în ochii ei albastri Toate basmele s-aduna.
She|herself|she looks|hair||yellow|girl||shine||||||her|||fairy tales||
She looked ... Her hair looked yellow, Her face shone in the moon, And in her blue eyes All the fairy tales came together.
(1876, 1 septembrie)
September 1
