Page:Poems (Eminescu).pdf/7

 But then mice with tripping noises, Chirping chickets bring and nurse My old thoughts, my melancholy, And this soon becomes a verse.

Sometimes while the lamp is burning Late, I’m dreaming without sleep, When I hear the door-latch clicking, Suddenly my heart will leap.

It is She. The house so empty, Now at once is full of light, In my life’s black frame appearing She, an icon shining bright.

And I cannot now but wonder Why old Time will never rest, While I’m with my love here whisp’ring Hand in hand and breast to breast.