Centre for Romanian Studies

Non mi tangere
(ANONYMOUS BRITISH)

I need air to kindle the flame of my Desire
I need the reflection of your face coming out of the shadows,
I need so much and feel that I receive so little
To quench this insatiable thirst of you,
To smother you in my embrace and hold you tight to my breast.
To feel your halting breath enveloping my body,
That tactile dialogue of untold complicities.

I know that I am nurturing a hope of intangible dreams,
Of a surreal world, the product of my burning desire,
Devouring the secret corners of my soul,
Turning it to dust.

But I wished the embers of our Love
To cast a light for ever,
Upon the darkest hours of our World.
I want to sing a Hymn to the angels above
I want . . .
I want so much
To assuage the thirst of our Love,
To allay our deepest fears
That we may ever be parted!

But, of late, I came to realize this to be my quest of the Impossible,
A hopeless quest of bridging the ocean of our Expectations:
You, on one hand, with your youthful dreams
Of building castles in the air:
Who can blame you?
I, on the other hand, reaching the end of the road,
Consuming a hopeless Dream,
As you warned me:
“Non mi tangere! Non mi tangere piu!”
But in the twilight of the night I did not listen to you,
As you embraced another World…

I feel like a lark, trying to reach the Sun,
Only to turn to ashes,
For the temerity
Of its dreams…

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