Rugãciunea unui dacPe cînd nu era moarte, nimic nemuritor,Nici sîmburul luminii de viatã dãtãtor, Nu era azi, nici mîne, nici ieri, nici totdeuna Cãci unul erau toate si totul era una, Pe cînd pãmîntul, cerul, vãzduhul, lumea toatã Erau din rîndul celor ce n-au fost niciodatã, Pe-atunci erai Tu singur, incît mã-ntreb în sine-mi Au cine-i zeul cãrui plecãm a noastre inemi? El singur zeu stãtut-a 'nainte de-a fi zeii Si din noian de ape puteri a dat scînteii El zeilor dã suflet si lumii fericire El este-al omenimei izvor de mîntuire. Sus inimile voastre, cîntare aduceti-i ! El este moartea mortii si învierea vietii! Si el îmi dete ochii sã vãd lumina zilei Si inima-mi împlut-au cu farmecele milei, Din vuietul de vînturi auzit-am al lui mers Si-n glas purtat de ape simtii duiosu-i viers Si tot pe lîng-acestea cersesc înc-un adaos; Sã-ngãduie întrarea-mi în vesnicul repaos ! Sã blesteme pe-oricine de mîne-o avea milã, Sã binecuvînteze pe cel ce mã împilã, S-ãsculte orice gurã ce-ar vrea ca sã mã rîdã, Puteri sã puie-n bratul ce-ar sta sã mã ucidã, Si-acela dintre oameni devinã cel întîi Ce mi-ar rãpi chiar piatra ce-oi pune-o capãtîi. Gonit de toatã lumea prin anii mei sã trec, Pîn' ce-oi simti cã ochiu-mi de lacrime e sec, Cã-n orice om din lume un dusman mi se naste, C-ajung pe mine însumi a nu mã mai cunoaste Cã chinul si durerea simtirea-mi a-mpietrit-o -- Cã pot sã-mi blestem mamã, pe care am iubit-o, Cînd ura cea mai crudã mi s-ar pãrea amor... Poate-oi uita durerea-mi si voi putea sã mor. Strãin si fãr' de lege de voi muri, atunce Nevrednicu-mi cadavru în ulitã l-arunce, S-aceluiã, Parinte, sã-i dai coroana scumpã, Ce-o sã amute cîinii cã inima-mi s-o rumpã, Iar celui ce cu pietre mã vã izbi în fatã, îndura-te, stãpîne, si dã-i pe veci viatã ! Astfel numai, Pãrinte, eu pot sã-ti multumesc Cã tu mi-ai dat în lume norocul sã trãiesc. Sã cer a tale dãruri genunchi si frunte nu plec, Spre urã si blestemuri as vrea sã te înduplec, Sã simt cã de suflarea-ti suflarea mea se curmã Si-n stingerea eternã dispar fãrã de urmã ! (Poezii postume, 1876) |
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A Dacian's PrayerWhen death did not exist, nor yet eternity,Before the seed of life had first set living free, When yesterday was nothing, and time had not begun, And one included all things, and all was less than one, When sun and moon and sky, the stars, the spinning earth Were still part of the things that had not come to birth, And You quite lonely stood... I ask myself with awe, Who is this mighty God we bow ourselves before. Ere yet the Gods existed already He was God And out of endless water with fire the lightning shed; He gave the Gods their reason, and joy to earth did bring, He brought to man forgiveness, and set salvation's spring Lift up your hearts in worship, a song of praise enfreeing, He is the death of dying, the primal birth of being. To him I owe my eyes that I can see the dawn, To him I owe my heart wherein is pity born; Whene'er I hear the tempest, I hear him pass along Midst multitude of voices raised in a holy song; And yet of his great mercy I beg still one behest: That I at last be taken to his eternal rest. Be curses on the fellow who would my praise acclaim, But blessings upon him who does my soul defame; Believe no matter whom who slanders my renown, Give power to the arm that lifts to strike me down; Let him upon the earth above all others loom Who steals away the stone that lies upon my tomb. Hunted by humanity, let me my whole life fly Until I feel from weeping my very eyes are dry; Let everyone detest me no matter where I go, Until from persecution myself I do not know; Let misery and horror my heart transform to stone, That I may hate my mother, in whose love I have grown; Till hating and deceiving for me with love will vie, And I forget my suffering, and learn at last to die. Dishonoured let me perish, an outcast among men; My body less than worthy to block the gutter then, And may, o God of mercy, a crown of diamonds wear The one who gives my heart the hungry dogs to tear, While for the one who in my face does callous fling a clod In your eternal kingdom reserve a place, o God. Thus only, gracious Father, can I requitance give That you from your great bounty vouched me the joy to live; To gain eternal blessings my head I do not bow, But rather ask that you in hating compassion show. Till comes at last the evening, your breath will mine efface, And into endless nothing I go, and leave no trace. (1879, 1 sept. Translated by Corneliu M. Popescu) |
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