What I truly wish you, sweet Romanian homeland [Ce-ţi doresc eu ţie, dulce Românie]
What I truly wish you, sweet Romanian homeland,
My beloved country, longing of my soul?
Nervous arms and weapons always close to your hand
And your past of glory guide your lofty goal!
May the wine in goblets boil and curb the crying
If your stately children hold this in esteem
For the rock is standing, but the wave is dying,
Sweet Romanian homeland, this is my big dream!
Yearning for harsh vengeance, black as grave and growing,
Blood of foes on your sword fuming in the air
And above the dragon, with the wind be flowing
Visions of the glory, triumph and bright glare,
Your tricolor banner tell the world entire
The Romanian people is like a swift stream
When a tiny sparkle ignites his pure fire,
Sweet Romanian homeland, this is my big dream!
The angel who always brings us peace and passion,
On the Vesta's altar resting dressed in white,
Who blinds Mars in glory, with his war obsession,
And who gives the whole world from his lamp bright light,
To your maiden bosom may he come, I'm praying,
Make you taste the heaven's happiness supreme,
Therefore, hug him gently, hear what he is saying,
Sweet Romanian homeland, this is my big dream!
What I truly wish you, sweet Romanian homeland,
Youthful bride and loving tenderhearted mom?
May your handsome children live and thrive in your hand
Like the stars of heavens, like the dawns that come,
Everlasting good life, happiness and glory,
Unforgiving weapons, kind Romanian soul,
Pride and dreams of courage, a successful story,
Sweet Romanian homeland, share with me this goal!
poem by Mihai Eminescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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Related quotes
From abroad [Din străinătate]
When everybody's happy, when benefits are pouring,
When people are delighted and spend their time with style,
Only a soul is crying, only a soul is longing
For its enchanting homeland with fields that always smile.
That heart, which is despondent and feels the irritation,
That soul, which suffers greatly and sings its silent song,
Is my own heart, which finds no peace, no consolation,
Is my own soul, which burns with yearning all along.
I'd like to see my birthplace, that dale I held so dearly
Along which flows a river with waters clear and cold,
To see what made me happy and what I loved sincerely:
The shadow of the forest, its labyrinth of old;
And once again to welcome the shanties in the valley,
Which used to look so peaceful in that relaxing place,
Where they could breathe in secret and the sweet pleasures tally,
The mystic dreams, the whispers, the poems full of grace.
I wish I had a silent and tiny house, enticing,
There, in my native valley, where flowers are ablaze,
To watch the stately mountain how in the sky is rising
Until its top is hidden by clouds and gloomy haze.
To see once more the flatlands so beautiful and lively,
Which weaved my childhood white days and filled me with much awe,
Which heard my childish whisper and which respected highly
The games I played as youngster and everything they saw.
The wailing of the river, its tuneful rapid flowing,
The concert of the birdies, with their unruly tweet,
The leaves, which rustled nicely, the shiver that was growing,
Aroused in me a yearning affectionate and sweet.
I'd like to have the fortune to fill my old desire
To see my lovely homeland, the birthplace of my soul,
And utter many blessings with my mind full of fire
And praise my childhood visions, the visions of a goal.
Even the death, this creature which makes the people fearful
And gives them chilly shivers and covers them with shrouds,
Would lull me there and soothe me and make me calm and cheerful
And wrapped in dreams would lift me up in the fluffy clouds.
poem by Mihai Eminescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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Among the Romanian poets, I feel closer to Lucian Blaga, because I believe in the immortality of the Romanian village.
Camelia Oprița in WordPress.com (6 September 2016)
Submitted by Camelia Oprița
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Every white hath its black, and every sweet its sour.
I am a Romanian composer, and I have a feeling of force and confidence, one of a noble ideal, when what I write harmonizes at all with the works of the great Romanian creators.
quote by Theodor Grigoriu
Submitted by Simona Enache
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He deserves not the sweet that will not taste the sour.
The Three Rulers
The Three Rulers
In life I have three rulers,
My own mind,
My love of my homeland,
My faith in God.
My own mind defines who I am,
The decisions I have made,
The way I live my life,
The hope and dreams I have for the future.
My homeland defines how I look at the world,
The countless people who have fallen defending it,
The beauty of its countryside,
The long history of its people's over many millennia.
My faith guides how I treat the world,
The way I respect other people,
The way I respect different religions and cultures,
The way I respect the earth in all its glory.
By Christopher Tye
poem by Christopher Tye
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beulah
Peace Officers and Righteous Administrators,
Bring forth the bud of your love to me and let me love you;
For you are the glory of my crown in my homeland,
And you will be in my hand with the beauty of your love.
Come and eat my corn of love for you are called Beulah,
And i have set watch over the walls of your love;
For you are sought out among others for your sweet love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Home Town
My home town
The place where I was born,
where I learned of love
And was taught of truth
And where my thoughts were formed
In my home town.
My home town
How highly you do you rate
Where united we stand
And divided we fall
When our nation calls,
In my home state
My great state.
My homeland
Majestically do you stand
With your mountains so near
And your people so dear
Ready to listen and hear
In our homeland
Our grand land.
My homeland
Kentucky at its grace
The land I have known
Where my thoughts have grown,
In my bluegrass home
My own sweet home
Our own Kentucky home.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Memories Of My Childhood Days
Sweet memories of my past
Like sweet gentle breeze upon the mast
Sweet ceaseless flow of the running stream
Sweet castles in my boyhood dream
Sweet tales of ages and places
Sweet memories of names and faces
Sweet whispering voices before dawn
Sweet ecstacies that linger on
Sweet glory of hard time overcome
Sweet hopeful days to come
Sweet cherished secret untold
Sweet tasted love of old
Sweet me, in most sweetest ways
Sweet undying memories of my childhood days! !
poem by Okonkwo Osamedua. Allen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Smiling Coast Of The Gambia
Gambia my homeland
but the finger of Africa
as am speaking
ye are the rumor subject
not thus thy smallness
neither thy population
but thy hospitality
clear hearty with dignity
visible to all.
Gambia my homeland
as thy coast smiling
thy needed all white bird
flies to smile with ye
tourist in reverse order
not thus beauty
not thus dosh
neither fame
but comfort thus conduct
with gentle climate behind.
Gambia my homeland
as ye are suprised
thy soil is dosed
not with inhaled
not corpse of thy children
but desperated refugees
not thus to aid
thus unexperience of war
not thus to balance thine
neither to explore
but to attain
blessed peaceful soil
thy secured skin
with stable blood.
poem by alfusainey Sonko
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There is great force hidden in a sweet command.
Love is sweet in the beginning but sour in the ending.
Love In Song
My heart cries out for love
And all that goes with loving
Love in song - love in song
My, youre so fine
When love is mine
I cant go wrong,
Love in song - love in song
I can see the places that
We used to go to now
Happiness in the homeland
Happiness in the homeland
My eye cries out
A tear still born
Misunderstanding
Love in song - love in song
I can see the places that
We used to go to now
Happiness in the homeland
Happiness in the homeland
My, youre so fine
When love is mine
I cant go wrong,
Love in song - love in song - love in song.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rest Upon This
rest upon this
the soil
of our homeland
take back breath
of our homeland
between these battles
hard fought and long
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red Is The Blood We Bleed
It is a very natural thing for one to love their Land of birth
And think that their Homeland Country is the finest Land on Earth
In his Lay of the last Minstrel Walter Scott said it all
Often with tears the migrant the old Homeland recall.
But when we feel that our race is superior it is there the wrong come in
Though we never hear of a war on racism a war we well might win
As racism can lead to war it is a moral sin
For those who feel that they have the right to judge you by the colour of your skin.
The National flags in the wind on the flag posts wave on War Memorial day
As we remember those who fought and died in past wars fought far away
Of war heroes and war victories we may feel proud to brag
But is it the war dead we respect or the colour of our National flag?
The war dead we commemorate died for justice, peace and liberty
But many in the World of today know of oppression and live in abject poverty
If the war dead could only speak many of them well might say
We would not fight a war again were we living today?
It is a very natural thing for to love one's own Homeland
And the nostalgic tears of ageing migrants are not hard to understand
But feelings of superiority of race to war can often lead
And we may be black or brown or white but red is the blood we bleed.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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