anthology of poetry from bucovina: Constantin Berariu
21.03.1870 – 12.11.1929
Megalopolis
Unfriendly providence has cursed them all
To stick to our history and kin –
Through all those streets a Babylonian grin –
All foreign cities, languages, name, call.
Mischief keeps spying there with sharpened claws
While „rustics” bring along fruit of their land,
They grasped from harshened soil with callous hand,
To sell, serve, please according to the laws.
Their lordships in the cities walk and talk
Some tongue of theirs, confusing, weird-sounding
And when they argue, „rustics” blench like chalk.
Oh, Heavens… may it come in wrath, astounding,
The old-time wise word, like a tomahawk,
Cleaving through dozy ears, punishing, pounding!
Oraşele
Ca blestemate de vrăjmaşe pronii
Se-nfig în neam oraşele străine,
De multe limbi li-s uliţele pline
Ca-n jur de turnul vechii Babilonii.
Pândesc acolo suflete haine
Cu gheare ascuţite după pradă
Când neamul vine aducând grămadă
De rod bogat muncit din mărăcine.
E prin oraşe şi o boierime
Cu graiuri ca de limbă păsărească,
Din neamul nostru n-o-nţelege nime.
O, Doamne, fă din nou să înflorească
Şi la boieri cuvântul din vechime
Cu înţeleapta-i vorbă strămoşească!
