I bring you this, intact, as Iris published it in her "About Me" section. (English translation follows the Romanian)
YOU MEN, TAKE A MINUTE AND READ THESE LYRICS! IT IS A POEM COMPOSED BY THE ROMANIAN NATIONAL POET, EMINESCU IN 1879! DO YOU THINK YOU COULD EVER SEE AN WOMAN LIKE THIS?ANSWER THIS HONESTLY TO YOURSELVES!
ATAT DE FRAGEDA... (ROMANIAN)
Abia atingi covorul moale,
Matasa suna sub picior
Si de la crestet pâna-n poale
Plutesti ca visul de usor.
Din încretirea lungii rochii
Rasai ca marmura în loc
S-atârna sufletu-mi de ochii
Cei plini de lacrimi si noroc.
O, vis ferice de iubire,
Mireasa blânda din povesti,
Nu mai zâmbi! A ta zâmbire
Mi-arata cât de dulce esti,
Cât poti cu-a farmecului noapte
Sa-ntuneci ochii mei pe veci,
Cu-a gurii tale calde soapte,
Cu-mbratisari de brate reci.
Deodata trece-o cugetare,
Un val pe ochii tai fierbinti:
E-ntunecoasa renuntare,
E umbra dulcilor dorinti.
Te duci, s-am înteles prea bine
Sa nu ma tin de pasul tau,
Pierduta vecinic pentru mine,
Mireasa sufletului meu!
Ca te-am zarit e a mea vina
Si vecinic n-o sa mi-o mai iert,
Spasi-voi visul de lumina
Tinzându-mi dreapta în desert.
S-o sa-mi rasai ca o icoana
A pururi verginei Marii,
Pe fruntea ta purtând coroana
Unde te duci? Când o sa vii?
SO FRAGILE (ENGLISH)
Thou scarcely touchest the soft carpet,
The silk on thee doth rustling stream,
From top to toe so light and lofty,
Thou floatest like an airy dream.
From draping folds like purest marble
Thine image unto me appears,
My whole soul on thine eyes is hanging,
Those eyes so full of joy and tears.
O happy dream of love, so happy,
Thou bride of fairy tales, so mild,
No, do not smile! Thy smille doth show me
How sweet thou art, thou gentle child.
My poor eyes thou canst close for ever
With deepest night's eternal charms,
With thy sweet lips' sweet fondling, whispers,
Embracing me with thy cool arms.
A veiling thought at once now passes
Thy glowing eyes thus covering:
It is the dark renunciation,
The sweetest yearning's shadowing.
Thou go'st away and, well I know it,
To follow thee must I no more,
Thou art for me now lost for ever,
My soul's dear bride, whom I adore.
My only guilt was that I saw thee,
Which I to pardon have no might,
Mine arm I'll stretch for ever vainly
To expiate my dream of light.
Like holy Virgin's purest image
In my fond eyes thou will rise now,
The brightest crown on forehead bearing,
Where dost thou go? When comest thou?
