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Lucian Blaga's Poems

Lucian Blaga Poet

Chamnongsri L. Rutnin English Translation

Photo by Chamnongsri Hanchanlash


This radiance

flooding my heart when I look at you,

is it not a spark

from the life-thirsting light

that was created

on the first day of time?

Nothingness lay agonized

adrift in the darkness of the unknown,

when the Unfathomed One signaled

“Let there be light!”

All of a sudden

appeared an ocean

and turbulent storm of light,

a searing thirst for sin,

a desire, passion, ardour

and yearning for the world

and the sun.

That dazzling blinding light

where has it vanished?

Who knows?


the radiance

that floods my heart as I look at you

is the last spark of the light

that blazed

on that first day of time.


Photo by Chamnongsri Hanchanlash

Mountain, Embody Me

Even though

all I have is you, transient body,

I shall not crown you with blossoms

- crimson and white;

for your fragile clay

is too puny for the boundless soul

that is mine.

You, mountains

and seas,

embody me,

embody me ‘til all my madness

is done.

Vast earth, be my frame,

be the breast over this tumultuous heart

be the seat of the storms that torment me

be the vessel that holds this wayward self.

My immense steps would then be heard

throughout the universe

and my manifestations would be

impetuous and free

as I,

Sacred Earth!

In love,

I would lift all the seas up to the sky

with strong, wild, ardent arms

- up to the sky

to clasp it

to break its girth

to kiss its flashing stars.

In hate,

I would crunch

under my stone feet

all the poor wandering suns

and, perhaps, smile.

But, transient body, all I have is you.


Photo by Chamnongsri Hanchanlash

I Crush Not the World’s Coronet of Wonders

I crush not the world’s coronet of wonders.

My mind murders not

the mysteries met

on my ways

- in flowers, or eyes,

on lips or graves.

Others’ lights

stifle the spells of the concealed,

unpenetrated in the cavernous depths

of darkness.

But I,

my light augments enigmas of the world

just as the moon’s pallid beams

diminish not, but shimmering,

intensify night’s mysteries.

I enrich the shadowed horizon

with shudders,

great shudders of sainted secrets,

and things uncomprehended

will grows more incomprehensible

under my watching eyes,

for I so love

flowers and eyes,

and lips, and graves.


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