Medieval winter

,,Zidul cerului cenusiu crestea
la capatul câmpiei înghetate.
Pe frânghia-unei raze lasate dintr-o stea
se cobora încet, cu mâinile-nclestate,
faptura ce-am avut-o, timida, stravezie
pe vremea când eram copil.”

Nichita Stanescu – Meditatie De Iarna

You are so beautiful in winter!
The field stretched on its back, near the horizon,
and the trees stopped running from the winter wind …
My nostrils tremble
and no scent
and no breeze
only the distant, icy smell
of the suns.
How transparent your hands are in winter!
And no one passes -
only the white suns revolve in quiet worship.
and the thought spreads in circles
ringing the trees
in twos
in fours.