S-a otrăvit dulceaţa poamei
Şi laptele din sânii mamei.
S-a otrăvit barbar văzduhul
De ce s-a otrăvit şi duhul,
De ce şi graiul?!
Sculaţi-vă, sculaţi-vă, sculaţi-vă
Din somnul cel de moarte!
Salvaţi-vă, salvaţi-vă, salvaţi-vă
Prin limbă şi prin carte!
Grigore VIERU (1935-2009)
The fruit of the tree lost its zest
So has the milk from the mother’s breast.
The deadly sky is only doom.
But why should one poison the spirit,
And our tongue with it?
Arise, arise, arise,
From your mortal slumber!
Save your wits, save your wits, save your wits!
Keep your native tongue and your soul with it.
(Rendered in English from the Romanian original verse
by Constantin ROMAN, Londra,
© 2012, Copyright Constantin ROMAN)
