(Trad. C. Iliescu)

It comes a day
When we must draw under ourselves
A black line.
And sum up.

Few moments when we were about to be happy,
Few moments when we were about to be beautiful,
Few moments when we were about to be brilliant.
Several times we met
Some mountains, trees and rivers
(Where might they be? And, are they still alive?)
All this sums up a shiny future
That we've already lived.

One woman we loved
Plus the same woman who didn't love us,
Make zero.

A quarter of your life of studies
Sums up some thousand million of fodder words,
Whose wisdom we have gradually dropped.

And finally one Fate
Plus another Fate (where does this come from?)
Make two.(We write one and we keep one
Maybe, who knows, there might be life beyond).

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