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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=589672" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>El-Zorab</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">An Arab comes, looking like hell,<br>His voice is weak, he can't speak well, <br>– O, pasha, please, don't be severe,<br>From Bab-el-Manteb I've come here<br>My EL-Zorab to sell. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">All Arabs then approach with care<br>To see my horse with reddish hair.<br>I pull the reins, he trots a while<br>I love him for his graceful style,<br>I'd die to leave him there. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But my three kids do starve in pain<br>Their mouth is dry, I go insane, <br>And my wife's misery is great,<br>Because her breasts are in such state<br>They can't give milk again! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">My dearest ones are cold as ice,<br>But you, O, pasha, you are nice!<br>Now buy the horse! I'm poor, indeed!<br>Give me some money on the steed,<br>Be good and name a price!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He takes the horse and rides about<br>Slowly and fast, to clear his doubt;<br>Then pasha's eyes begin to glow<br>Touches his beard and his thoughts flow,<br>His soul is somewhere out.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">– One thousand sequins, you agree?<br>– How noble, pasha, you can be!<br>It's more than ever crossed my mind!<br>May God be good to you and kind<br>For how you're paying me!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Arab takes with smiling eyes<br>The golden sequins, his dear prize – <br>From now on they will not be sad,<br>From now on they'll be rich and glad<br>Won't beg from foreign guys!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Won't live in tent and breathe the smoke<br>His kids won't beg from other folk,<br>His wife will be as was before<br>And they themselves will give the poor<br>Some money when they're broke! – </div><div style="margin:10px 0">He grabs the money on a whim <br>And leaves; the fate is good to him.<br>Runs like a drunkard, out of mind,<br>But suddenly he looks behind,<br>Then stops, his sight is dim. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gazes the money from the sale,<br>Then falters and his face turns pale,<br>Looks at the horse, into his eyes;<br>And walking slowly, deeply sighs,<br>Comes back along the trail. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">He grabs his neck, he's crying, too,<br>Caresses him, feeling so blue,<br>And tells him: O, my lion dear,<br>I know for you it's very clear<br>That I am selling you. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">My children will not play again<br>By putting leaves on your thick mane,<br>And will not lead you to the spring<br>And figs from now to you won't bring,<br>They'll wait for you in vain!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They won't come out day after day<br>To reach out from the place they stay,<br>To lift them on the horse's back!<br>I will not see them on the track<br>How laugh and keep my way!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How shall I still my children's yell,<br>To my sweet wife what shall I tell<br>When El-Zorab she will not see,<br>The Arabs all will mock at me,<br>My life will be like hell!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My wife, Raira, it is true<br>Now, El-Zorab won't come to you <br>To walk together, feel the breeze,<br>He will not fall down on his knees<br>The way he used to do!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And Ben-Ardun, your husband dear,<br>Won't fly again, having no fear,<br>To chase a hawk in its swift fly<br>And shoot it down from the blue sky,<br>You will not laugh and cheer!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You will not stare with happy face<br>His clothes, which flutter in the race,<br>And on the ground won't put your ear<br>To hear the trot so loud and clear<br>When comes back to his place!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O, my dear horse! You are my core,<br>But I'll not see you anymore,<br>How with your nose you sniff the ground<br>How your thick tail you move around<br>And in the sky you soar!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How every time you chew your foam,<br>How jumps your mane when we two roam.<br>How when you gallop people scream<br>And how you rush like a big stream <br>When we're away from home!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The desert knew us, I maintain, <br>And the horizon was in pain – <br>From now on who'll take care of you?<br>Who will protect you, as I do,<br>From winds and heavy rain?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They won't speak gently to you, dear,<br>They'll curse you often around here<br>And they will beat you with the whip<br>And you'll endure their brutal grip;<br>And you will starve in fear!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They'll treat you badly on the track<br>And you will die like a poor hack!...<br>O, pasha, I don't need your pay<br>Without my horse I'll go astray<br>I want to have him back. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The pasha frowns: "Are you insane?"<br>My janissaries, it is plain, <br>Can throw you to the dogs by force<br>Because right now he is my horse,<br>So stop pleading in vain!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">– Your horse? Come on, then tell me who<br>Has raised him, pasha: I or you?<br>Whose arm obeys, when he's a ram,<br>To turn him into a good lamb?<br>Not yours, but mine, it's true!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He is my horse! And on a whim,<br>I would fight God, for I'm not slim,<br>Be nice, that's all I do request,<br>Because your horses are the best,<br>But I have only him!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Therefore, I ask you to be fair!<br>Allah is just and from up there<br>He'll judge and see how you behave<br>And how you treat me like a slave,<br>But you don't really care!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The world will curse you, you will see,<br>With what you do, they disagree!<br>I'll go to beg from other guys<br>But from your coins I turn my eyes<br>What good can give to me? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then pasha orders, once, not twice,<br>"Strip him and beat him as a price!"<br>The eunucks jump from their place – <br>The Arab turns with pallid face<br>His sight is cold as ice...</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Pulls out a dagger, looks ahead,<br>And blood is flowing, thick and red,<br>When cuts the throat wearing a mane<br>And in a blink, without much pain,<br>The noble horse falls dead. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Pasha is looking, feels a chill,<br>The Spachies shudder at the kill,<br>The Arab falls onto his knees<br>Kisses the blood that seems to freeze<br>On those eyes, which are still. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then turns around, he groans and sobs<br>He drops the dagger, his throat clogs,<br>– My kids will take revenge on you,<br>Now if you want, cut me in two<br>And throw me to your dogs!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=George+Co%C5%9Fbuc">George Coşbuc</a>, translated by Octavian Cocoş<div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=589672" data-title="El-Zorab de George Coşbuc" data-description="An Arab comes, looking like hell,/His voice is weak, he can't speak well, /– O, pasha, please, don't be severe,/From Bab-el-Manteb I've come here/My EL-Zorab to sell. /All Arabs then approach with care/To see my horse with reddish hair./I pull t..."></div>
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