Galbena Gutuie in engleza

Here’s a translation of the poem by Adrian Păunescu, maintaining its rhythm and tone:

It’s Their Time, The Quince’s Time

Sweet, yellow light so warm

Just like me, when I was blonde,

Mother placed a quince to ripen

Slowly by the window's bond.

I would bite it, but it pains me,

Fills me with a deep desire,

And as the year goes drifting by,

I feel it's aging in the fire.

Yellow quince aglow,

Bitter-sweet it shows,

Lamp upon the sill,

Lights our winter's chill!

Mother had no glassy baubles,

No tinsel, and no shining star,

Winter holidays were dressed

With quinces shining near and far.

Mother placed a yellow quince

In the window facing out,

And I see it shining still,

But I can’t bear to take a bite.

Seems it has a ticking clock,

And my mother’s sacred tears,

It shines bright, then fades away—

A quince’s life across the years.

Mother’s greatest luxury,

When we still felt like her children,

Was the bread upon the table

And the quince set by the window.

ESTE VREMEA LOR, A GUTUILOR .

Adrian PĂUNESCU

Dulce, galbenă lumină

Cum şi eu bălai-eram

Mi-a pus mama o gutuie

Ce se coace-ncet la geam...

Aş muşca-o dar mă doare

Mă cuprinde-un fel de jind

Şi acum cînd trece anul

Parc-o simt îmbătrînind.

Galbenă gutuie

Dulce, amăruie

Lampă la fereastră

Toată iarna noastră!

Mama mea n-avea nici globuri

Nici beteală şi nici stea

Sărbătorile de iarnă

Cu gutui le-mpodobea...

Mi-a pus mama o gutuie

În fereastra dinspre drum

Şi o văd că luminează

N-am puterea s-o consum.

Parcă are-n ea ceasornic

Şi al mamei plînset sfînt

Luminează şi se stinge

O gutuie pe pămînt.

Luxul mamei cel mai mare

Cînd copii ne mai simţeam

Era pîinea de pe masă

Şi gutuia de la geam.