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Poems and Prose of Mihai Eminescu
Published to mark the commemoration of the 150th anniversary of the birth of Romania's national poet, this edition of the works of Mihai Eminescu contains a selection of the best English-language renditions of poems and prose by this remarkable cultural figure of nineteenth-century Romania. Eminescu (1850-1889) was a complex personality; at once a philosopher, politician, journalist, and prose writer, but above all a poet -- he is 'an expression of the Romanian soul'. The selection in this volume includes English language versions of some of Eminescu's best-known poems and is illustrated with original drawings by the Romanian artist A Bordenache and graphics from the princeps edition of Eminescu's poems published in 1883.
240 pages, Hardcover
First published May 1, 2000
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About the author
A.K. Brackob
16 books8 followersA.K. Brackob has a Ph.D. in history from the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. He is a specialist on the history of southeastern Europe during the Middle Ages and author of the award-winning book Dracul – Of the Father: The Untold Story of Vlad Dracula, as well as Mircea the Old: Father of Wallachia, Grandfather of Dracula.
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Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews
January 27, 2016
Unique Mihai Eminescu means the soul of Romanian l`esprit, words,faith , intelligence,beauty, modernity, a bridge between sky and earth. Despite sadness of his short life could still offer to the mankind classics masterpiece poems like Luceafarul, Scrisorile and brilliant prose
September 26, 2021
Novella: Poor Dionis/Dionysius, translated by Ioan Giurgea
Surrealist/philosophical fantasy of Dionis, who falls into a dream state as Fr. Dan, then transfigures (metempsychosis), dividing his body and soul. Convinced by his mentor Ruben/Riven (who is later found to be the devil in costume), Dan comes to an agreement that his shadow would live out the remainder of his physical life, while Dan's soul would depart into the fantastical realm. They perform this Zoroastrian transmigration by leafing through the sacred texts, at Ruben's instruction. In this trance, he convinces his feverish love, Maria, to make a similar trade with her shadow, and they embark to the heavens ("'Come with me,' he whispered into her ear, 'come through swarms of stars and throngs of rays until, far from this wretched, dismal Earth we will forget all and have only our own selves in mind," p. 157). He takes the earth, spins it into a pearl, and adds it as a bead to her necklace ("he took it in the palm of his hand and, back on the moon, he hung the blue pearl on his sweetheart's necklace," p. 158). They are deliriously happy in the heavens, until he comes upon a sneaking suspicion that he is God, and then comes crashing down back down to Earth. Here he confesses his love in a letter to the physical version of Maria, and falls into a delirium at her receipt of the letter. She visits him during his illness. He ends with further philosophical questions.
This novella was poorly received in its time, thought either bizarre or genius. Mostly bizarre. More fairy-tale-like than a faithful execution of Schopenhauer's or Kant's or even Ayurvedic philosophy (or perhaps Schopenhauer by way of the Upanishads?), yet it does contain elements of the latter. Some wonder whether it might be a parody of the above (page 142 rambling section on cat's consciousness: "Tommy, hello!...In a pussy-peopled village I'd make you a judge, none other,").
He illustrates well (in a vacuum) the concept circular time (149). Prescient concept of space: "You know the all-powerful rule: there is no empty space" (149).
On mentorship: "Do you imagine I should have singled you out as my disciple if I had not considered you worthy and thoroughgoing? You are like a violin with all the strains lying expectant for an accomplished hand to resurrect and I am the hands that will resurrect your innermost self (150)".
Some beautiful romantic sections:
"My star, bereft of fortune, beauty, and wet, my heart is ailing like sunlight straight in the night, for I love you. Your eyes, too molten morning stars, pierce so deeply, so blessedly deep into the darkness of my soul that they make me daydream of you and, if a sleep, I awaken at the recollection of their light," (163).
A forecalling to Campion's poem: "Her pig-tailed blonde hair fell over her shoulders; a purple rose bloomed by her temple, her mouth was small as a ripe cherry and her face white and red as a ripe apple," (162).
Overall, this was a dizzying read. Alternatingly beautiful and fantastical and philosophical, it took me quite some time to finish, even for such a short novella. I'm glad I did, if only to be perplexed and to continue to understand how his contemporaries of the time understood his work, and the groundbreaking entrance of this genre into Romanian literature. Eminescu spent the end of his life in a mental hospital, so some wonder if these dreams within dreams represent episodes of psychosis. It is fascinating and satisfying to read Eminescu, who I have always heard of but never read until this moment.
There are other bits of short stanzas and longer epic poems in this collection. After Dionis, I had no further patience for the epic poems, but the short poems were simple and romantic. Nature, romance, Romania. Lovely.
Surrealist/philosophical fantasy of Dionis, who falls into a dream state as Fr. Dan, then transfigures (metempsychosis), dividing his body and soul. Convinced by his mentor Ruben/Riven (who is later found to be the devil in costume), Dan comes to an agreement that his shadow would live out the remainder of his physical life, while Dan's soul would depart into the fantastical realm. They perform this Zoroastrian transmigration by leafing through the sacred texts, at Ruben's instruction. In this trance, he convinces his feverish love, Maria, to make a similar trade with her shadow, and they embark to the heavens ("'Come with me,' he whispered into her ear, 'come through swarms of stars and throngs of rays until, far from this wretched, dismal Earth we will forget all and have only our own selves in mind," p. 157). He takes the earth, spins it into a pearl, and adds it as a bead to her necklace ("he took it in the palm of his hand and, back on the moon, he hung the blue pearl on his sweetheart's necklace," p. 158). They are deliriously happy in the heavens, until he comes upon a sneaking suspicion that he is God, and then comes crashing down back down to Earth. Here he confesses his love in a letter to the physical version of Maria, and falls into a delirium at her receipt of the letter. She visits him during his illness. He ends with further philosophical questions.
This novella was poorly received in its time, thought either bizarre or genius. Mostly bizarre. More fairy-tale-like than a faithful execution of Schopenhauer's or Kant's or even Ayurvedic philosophy (or perhaps Schopenhauer by way of the Upanishads?), yet it does contain elements of the latter. Some wonder whether it might be a parody of the above (page 142 rambling section on cat's consciousness: "Tommy, hello!...In a pussy-peopled village I'd make you a judge, none other,").
He illustrates well (in a vacuum) the concept circular time (149). Prescient concept of space: "You know the all-powerful rule: there is no empty space" (149).
On mentorship: "Do you imagine I should have singled you out as my disciple if I had not considered you worthy and thoroughgoing? You are like a violin with all the strains lying expectant for an accomplished hand to resurrect and I am the hands that will resurrect your innermost self (150)".
Some beautiful romantic sections:
"My star, bereft of fortune, beauty, and wet, my heart is ailing like sunlight straight in the night, for I love you. Your eyes, too molten morning stars, pierce so deeply, so blessedly deep into the darkness of my soul that they make me daydream of you and, if a sleep, I awaken at the recollection of their light," (163).
A forecalling to Campion's poem: "Her pig-tailed blonde hair fell over her shoulders; a purple rose bloomed by her temple, her mouth was small as a ripe cherry and her face white and red as a ripe apple," (162).
Overall, this was a dizzying read. Alternatingly beautiful and fantastical and philosophical, it took me quite some time to finish, even for such a short novella. I'm glad I did, if only to be perplexed and to continue to understand how his contemporaries of the time understood his work, and the groundbreaking entrance of this genre into Romanian literature. Eminescu spent the end of his life in a mental hospital, so some wonder if these dreams within dreams represent episodes of psychosis. It is fascinating and satisfying to read Eminescu, who I have always heard of but never read until this moment.
There are other bits of short stanzas and longer epic poems in this collection. After Dionis, I had no further patience for the epic poems, but the short poems were simple and romantic. Nature, romance, Romania. Lovely.
January 10, 2022
Îmi împart ziua de naștere cu Eminescu si ,astfel, am crescut auzind:" poate vei fi ca el". Acum, la 16 ani, ma scufund în creațiile lui și sunt vrăjit de ideile pe care le-a "eternizat" pe hârtie. Îi ador aroganța, pe care toți o scuza cu eticheta "geniu" și sunt îndragostit de felul cum fiecare cuvant al lui înseamnă alte o mie.
August 12, 2021
Stars in the sky (Stelele-n cer) * by Mihai Eminescu
***************************************
Stars in the sky
Above the bay
Burn and decay
Until they die.
Up to the tips
The masts are shaking
And all are trembling
The wooden ships:
Each like a fortress
Floating on water
To reach the border
Of wilderness.
White cranes, in crowds,
Are soaring high
Into the sky
On moving clouds.
Leaving the shore
To start a chase
Flying with grace –
And nothing more...
O, forest flower,
The life goes by
Young ages die
When comes the hour.
The luck will go
On its long wings
If all the things
Are moving slow.
Before I perish,
Angel, stand by
And hear my cry
For who I cherish.
It is too bad
To cast away
This very day
We have in hand.
Poems and Prose of Mihai Eminescu ** Read in Bucharest, Brașov & Constanța, Romania (July 2021)
***************************************
Stars in the sky
Above the bay
Burn and decay
Until they die.
Up to the tips
The masts are shaking
And all are trembling
The wooden ships:
Each like a fortress
Floating on water
To reach the border
Of wilderness.
White cranes, in crowds,
Are soaring high
Into the sky
On moving clouds.
Leaving the shore
To start a chase
Flying with grace –
And nothing more...
O, forest flower,
The life goes by
Young ages die
When comes the hour.
The luck will go
On its long wings
If all the things
Are moving slow.
Before I perish,
Angel, stand by
And hear my cry
For who I cherish.
It is too bad
To cast away
This very day
We have in hand.
Poems and Prose of Mihai Eminescu ** Read in Bucharest, Brașov & Constanța, Romania (July 2021)
January 30, 2024
"Putut-au oare-atita dor
In noapte sã se stingã,
Cind valurile de izvor
N-au incetat sã plingã,
Cind luna trece prin stejari
Urmind mereu in cale-si,
Cind ochii tãi, tot incã mari,
Se uitã dulci si galesi ?"
In noapte sã se stingã,
Cind valurile de izvor
N-au incetat sã plingã,
Cind luna trece prin stejari
Urmind mereu in cale-si,
Cind ochii tãi, tot incã mari,
Se uitã dulci si galesi ?"
March 23, 2023
Mihai Eminescu was beyond poetry. His words were the equivalent of all it means to be a Romanian. There are some English translations that do him justice, but nothing matches the originals.
March 15, 2024
Ok, am citit mai intai proza si am fost oarecum dezamagita. Mi-era teama ca nu o sa mai imi placa Eminescu. Dar apoi am ajuns la poezii si l-am regasit :)
May 26, 2025
I’m gonna be honest, I’ve tried to read the last one, but couldn’t that and the fact that you have to be in a certain mood to read it, are ethe reasons iI didn’t give it 5/5
Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews