Lucian Blaga--Lost in the night, somewhere, there is

Leave it to Blaga to give a profoundly dark and melancholy subject a serene, philosophical gloss. If you strip the poem of its oh-so-proper rhythms, of its simple, melodic aabb rhyme scheme (mixed up at the end with an abab for good measure), then you'll want to wail in despair. Except--wait, that's why Blaga put it in poetry in such as way as to inspire you to accept, philosophically, your fate. When loss, grief, and death are so neatly ordered in ten short, simple poem lines, everything gains a different perspective.

In terms of linguistic treasons: well, again we have the old name of a month cropping up (you know, it's the third time over the young course of this blog, something IS up, and I'll figure it out one day!): "prierii," the plural + definite article (second "-i") form of "prier," which is the old name for April. Needless to say, it doesn't have a plural in Romanian, not really, much like "April" or "springtime" don't really have plurals in English either. I avoided translating "prier" by "April" because I'm not sure it would have made much sense in English, and I opted for the plural version of "springtime" which I hope will be interpreted as a poetic license.

Also, the last line - "prierii si iubirile" is simply, "April(s) and loves." That's naturally no good for the rhythm/rhyme, so I added there "...the loves we yearn" to capture both rhyme and rhythm. Slightly different meaning, I know, so be warned!

În noapte undeva mai e de Lucian Blaga În noapte undeva mai e tot ce-a fost şi nu mai e, ce s-a mutat, ce s-a pierdut din timpul viu în timpul mut. În Hades e - tot ce-a trecut. Din aheronticul ţinut vin toate amintirile. În Hades e - tot ce-a trecut prierii şi iubirile.

Lost in the night, somewhere, there is by Lucian Blaga Lost in the night, somewhere, there is all that once was and no more is, what got lost, what was uprooted, from living time to time that’s muted. In Hades is -- all that has passed. From Acheron, the river vast, all memories to us return. In Hades is -- all that has passed the springtimes, and the loves we yearn.