The carriage with Mr Mihai Eminescu

The carriage with Mr. Mihai Eminescu Is heard passing through the streets of Ia?i. But, Lord, what a long journey it has made, How pale and weary he seems to be! And what is happening, Lord, in the sky and among the stars? And what's happening in the wide world? Does the poet come from his parental home? Does he come from the realm of shadows to the living? And tell us if everything is just an illusion And tell us if we are mistaken. A rhythm of hooves is heard on the stone Crying strangely in its wake: The carriage with Mr. Mihai Eminescu Is heard passing through Ia?i. And some are born, others die, At this sign, the acacias sigh And the linden trees weep with yearning. And I'm afraid, I'm afraid, that this is all there is, On the edge of cold reality, The carriage with Mr. Mihai Eminescu Passes through the streets of Ia?i. It always passes, it's heard to pass, Through the beloved streets of his town, But the carriage seems without substance And the horses seem made of smoke. Nevertheless, as long as Romania will be on earth, In line with the last steps, The carriage with Mr. Mihai Eminescu Will always pass through Ia?i. Be ready to give him a noble welcome, Even if you feel the mournful thought, That eternally through Ia?i the carriage will pass, And it will never stop.