that I've gathered mud in my soul as well -
yet I'm thinking of you.
There'll be one morning that will kill your dream
with claws of light,
'cause my soul is as clear,
as your thought wants it,
as your love's heart believes it is.
Will you cry then or you will forgive?
Will you weep or will you smile
in the glimmers of that morning,
when I shall tell you with no remorse,
"Don't you know, only in mud-bottom lakes do water-lilies grow?"
(Lucian Blaga, Vei plânge mult ori vei zâmbi?, Poemele Luminii, 1919, unlawfully translated by Lucian-A. Blaga, 2013)
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