A Father’s Sorrows
I pray to you as I would to an icon,
A window to God!
My wife is your mother
And, how fortunate I am, I am your father!
Through you I discover the joy
Of holding a daughter
in my arms And I feel that I do not want immortality,
But only to kiss you for a moment
But as soon as my kiss
Fades gently from your cheek,
I long to start all over again,
To be your father tomorrow too
You sleep, and tomorrow you will smile,
Forgetting my kiss.
But one day you will thank
God (and I am at peace).
A smile or a coo,
To me they seem like a Strauss, a van Gogh, or an Eminescu
And a tear that has fallen so sadly,
Is a deluge, or some other earthly curse!
Through you I touch what I have not seen
; I breathe in unknown
sensations. You are my daughter and a beginning
For one life, or many
You can make my love
immortal By giving a new life!
Your coming
is born of love And through you it soars
And it will reach up there,
Where my wife
and I Will hold her close
in our arms And send her to you
And should your child wish
To continue this immortality
, We, through you and through him,
Will love for evermore!
Rejoicing just
as we did When we first laid eyes on you
For you appeared with the sun,
bringing joy to my
soul, and ever since… I feel more keenly
what I long for and who I am!
I come to terms with my fate
, and when times are hard
, my thoughts turn
to you with strength!
Which rejoices ceaselessly
, Leaving no room for sorrow.
And I feel as though I were the first
To have conceived life
Goodnight—I say to you now!
And I read my prayer to you!
And I feel like weeping because I cannot,
Always protect you!
A father’s sorrows, in the end
That dying
man Who now lies stretched out in bed
Was once a gentle father.
When he wasn’t, I forgot.
But I haven’t forgotten when I upset him.
And I have come now to ask his forgiveness.
In a dying voice, half-angelic,
he said to me: ‘I forgave you long ago!
But I’m sorry for those days
That I didn’t spend with you.
A thousand reasons, born within me,
Drove us apart, my child.
At first I had no time for you.
When you excitedly showed me your freshly sketched drawing,
I’d say hurriedly, impatiently: ‘Well done, that’s good!’
I didn’t stop to savour it properly,
A universe born on a sheet of paper,
By an intelligent child,
To appease his father’s anger.
Now… you have no time for me.
And I don’t know if this is my punishment for back then,
Or a temptation lurking within you
Which, like me, you don’t know how to banish.
But I know all is not lost
, And we shall be together for many days,
When you, each time, downcast,
Will light a candle for me.
And when you say a prayer for the dead,
Or give alms to a wretch,
Or do anything in my memory,
I shall be with you as in the beginning,
When I would lower my
hand upon your head And you would smile, feeling loved.
I shall descend once more from my star,
Just to whisper a ‘welcome’ to you
We shall meet in heaven and on earth
And in between, in a place
Built by a saint
For parents who were not fortunate enough
To spend all
their time With their own children.
Then, even if my body is dead
, My soul will be with you
Farewell—I say to you now!
I have a rendezvous!
And it is not merely an illusion,
but a comfort from the Good Father.
The Heavenly Father,
Who has always found time for me.
He was with me when it was time to live;
He will be with me when it is time to die.
He will do the same for you.
And that is why I implore you,
even if you were to forget me,
to love Him even after I have died!
The Sorrows of a Nation
When this nation was overrun,
He knelt down!
Not that he liked being humiliated,
but he prayed to the Lord
And whole generations wept,
But not out of helplessness!
Out of compassion for those who trampled
Their faith underfoot!
The belief that it is better to shed
A thousand tears,
Than to take
a single drop of blood From a brother, for the sake of wealth
Do not ask why we were not conquerors!
For we have valour enough!
What good is it, if you kill
the love given by Jesus?
We have shed blood, nonetheless!
But amidst tears of sorrow,
for we fought only
when they were robbing us of our very freedom!
And we stood with weapons in hand
And left our loved ones behind,
When only the Roman
army Could save our faith!
Otherwise, we placed flowers on our weapons!
And we faced them with bare chests!
And we triumphed, for He does not sleep;
our faith was enough!
And we suffered and remained silent!
When they thought they had defeated us,
We filled
the dungeons with relics And we pray even in our dreams
Now, perhaps, you will understand
what the Romanian nation means!
Why no one can wipe it out:
Christian children grow up here!
And the Lord admires our humility
, For we harbour no malice in our hearts,
But only good faith!
And so He does us justice
Anyone may come
to us, For this is the ‘Garden of the Mother of God’
But those who did not have a pure heart,
Left through tears and blood!
And this people shall live on!
We shall never disappear,
As long as the sun remains
in the sky As long as we have faith in Him
Therefore, you who are still alive,
do not let your children go astray!
Wake those who sleep
from their slumber, and teach them about love!
So that in the future
they may love All that your forefathers built.
They were no conquering people;
They were Christians and they are our own!
And never let them learn
That it is humiliation to bow down!
Many teachings come from abroad;
They are the misguided ways of strangers!
Strangers to all that was holy to us,
To all that the martyrs
loved Who nourish this land!
Land of the armies of love!