| Cu mana stanga ti-am intors spre mine chipul,
| With my left hand I turned your face towards me,
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| Sub cortul adormitilor gutui
| Under the tent of sleeping quinces
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| Si de-as putea sa-mi rup din ochii tai privirea,
| And if I could take my eyes off you,
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| Vazduhul serii mi-ar parea caprui.
| The air of the evening would seem brown to me.
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| Mi s-ar parea ca deslusesc prin crenge,
| It seems to me that I can see through the branches,
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| Zvelti vinatori in arcuitii lei
| Slender hunters in lion arches
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| Din goana calului, cum isi subtie arcul,
| From the horse's chase, as he bows his bow,
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| O, 'tindeti mana stanga catre ei
| Oh, hold out your left hand to them
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| Si stinge tu conturul lor de lemn subtire,
| And you extinguish their thin wooden outline,
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| Pe care ramurile l-au aprins,
| Which the branches kindled,
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| Suind sub luna-n seve caii repezi
| Horses riding fast under the moon
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| Ce-au ratacit cu timpul pe intins.
| What they lost in time.
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| Eu te privesc in ochi si-n jur se sterg copacii
| I look you in the eye and the trees are wiping around
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| In ochii tai cu luna ma rasfrang
| In your eyes with the moon I reflect
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| Si ai putea, uitand, sa ne strivesti in gene
| And you could, forgetting, crush our eyelashes
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| Dar chipul ti-l intorc, pe bratul stang.
| But I turn your face on your left arm.
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| Si ai putea, uitind, sa ne strivesti in gene
| And you could, forgetting, crush our eyelashes
|
| Dar chipul, chipul ti-l intorc, pe bratul stang.
| But I turn your face, your face, on your left arm.
|
| Si ai putea, uitind, sa ne strivesti in gene
| And you could, forgetting, crush our eyelashes
|
| Dar chipul, ti-l intorc, pe bratul stang. | But the face, I return it to you, on the left arm. |