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Come to the forest spring where wavelets 
Trembling o'er the pebbles glide 
And the drooping willow branches 
Its secluded threshold hide.
Eagerly your arms outstreching, Hurry dear to my embrace, That the breeze your hair will gather And uplift it from your face.
On my knees you will be seated Just we two alone, alone While upon your curls disordered Are the lime-tree's blossoms strown.
Forehead pale and tresses golden On my shoulder you incline, And your lip's delicious plunder Raise up willingly to mine.
We will dream a dream of fairies Rocked by secret lullaby, Which the lovely spring is chanting And the winds that wander by.
Midst that harmony thus sleeping Woodland tales our thoughts enthrall, And upon our bodies softly Do the lime-trees petal fall.
English version by Corneliu M.
Popescu Transcribed by Octavian Rachieru School No.
10, Focsani, Romania

by Mihai Eminescu
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