English

On the beat of heavy clanking chains
Singing were passing the slaves through the citadel
A long troop of zebra backs
were passing through the dust as selling goods.

Bleeding and taken away with arrogance
They were swinging as a foaming sea
All without God and without name,
without nation and with no hope,
but all careless and mocking away.

And in the crossfire of strange laughs 
In the deceit of no remorse
An only face, an only person
Was carrying the sigh of the tragic destruction.

It was a slave with her face like chalk
with large eyes and a pleated forehead
From the fatherly nest was beguiled
Not the chain was her burden now
But the dream of her virgin years.`

Walking along she saw her home,
she saw herself in the sweet remembrance,
working on the holy bride dowry
with her thought lost in the airy horizon
dreaming of the secret, unmet groom...

There were sweet years in the old house.
And the moments were blending frolic.
But in twilight time, at the well,
a prince appeared... with a tricky voice...
And she ran with him... like a pagan.

Then... she was sold... locked away...
The lie, oh, showed it's poison.
But the truth... isn't showing?
Oh, until then at the great trial,
she was dragging in the heavy chain...

But wait...
Stopped on the road, a young man watches her.
He looks long in the weeping eyes.
He makes a sign: let the merchant come.
The stewards jump. The convoy stops.
The master... comes slowly... he trades.

A dead silence rises.
„What price?” asks silently the young man.
On his face there's mercy and peace.
He gives a bag to the rapacious man.
And the fat man grabs it... and waits.

For he wants one more bag. And another.
Always his greedy hand reaches out.
In the girl's head bursts a storm.
So much gold for a poor slave,
for a dirty lily, for a chaff?

The young man waits. The tyrant doesn't tilt.
The buyer gave his all.
But for the tyrant it's only the beginning
He knows the price for the queen
Lays somewhere, in the bosom that suspires...

„Come on! Give it all!” And suddenly, at once,
the cloak on his shoulders falls down
and the ring slips off his finger.
But the merchant to the man stretches.
„In vain! This merchandise it's not for sale!”

Sits the young man and he tells no word.
And no one hums a sound.
For there never was such a marvel.
And the slave feels an abyss in her soul.
She stumbles and falls in the dust...

When she woke up... she was free.
On the large street, the merchant
was proceeding again with the slaves through the city.
And in her place, in bloody chains,
was proceeding on the road of sacrifice... The Savior.

„With the price of his own life? But who is he?”
asks the weeping girl, snatching her hair.
And a stripling... from somewhere... appears...
„How? You don't know?” -"I don't.”
„The Truth.”

Oh! The Truth... through the slaves?... on the streets?...
And the dust grows into hallucinating horizons...
And the girl sees before her pontiffs, bacchantes,
laurels athletes, knights with spears
and noblemen shining in diamonds...

„I'm free... and the life stands before me,
revealing her entire brightness.
But, how weird, wherever I look
I see only masks on souls of ice.
I'm free... But where is love?”

And long days she ran and asked
why is the backstage life ugly,
why there are so many snakes through the daffodils.
And, finally, a man from the plebs told her
that the man chained in her stead died.

Running on the fields, she has torn her clothing
and wandered away through the heathland.
But one day she saw a man in the sun
pulling a plow that stirred the earth.
And He told a secret, a calling.

„Come to Me, you without rest...
come to carry the yoke together
and you'll rest your souls.
For My yoke is a good burden.
And it bears a crown up in the Heaven!”

It was the buyer of suspiration...
...it was the man dead in chains... The Truth...
And the girl ran to bow down,
to wash his divine ankles with her tears
and to wipe them with her unbraided hair.

And only under the yoke she found happiness!
For the holy Truth makes you free,
for, free, to choose or not to choose Love.

*
Love... so that you may find love,
You gave it all, and asked for nothing.
You didn't want to give birth to fear in the hearts,
but the willing moment of affection.

Love... so that you may find love.
You saved us through your whole sacrifice,
so that not in chains, but free to choose
whoever wants, in sweet dedication.

Love... so that you may find love
You carry a yoke, but the yoke is fullness.
It's a yoke, but it's complete freedom,
It's a yoke, but it's engagement, happiness,
the ring of the bride and the Groom.

Lyrics: Costache Ioanid
English translation: Poliana Raisa

Citește versiunea în Română aici: https://polianaraisa.com/2024/12/09/inelul-de-costache-ioanid/

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