Talking about Eminescu is the same as whispering in a large, empty cave.
Not even your echo reaches him without disturbing his silence.
He lives in his own universe. For him all that is not objectively possible
can be created in one's mind and, for that, everything we see, we thing,
we judge is nothing more than a simple creation of our own subjectivity
and not real
things. As a conclusion Eminescu wrote: "Life
is a dream". Like the coulour that is nothing more than the simple real
light we see in many diffrent ways and has various shades, depending on
the intensity of our perception, Eminescu is the one that saw the world
in his own coulours and shades, from his corner, trying not to interfere
in the portrait he
paints. In what we saw a woman he saw a sweet
wonder, a blue flower, an angel or the soul of a snake, the devil. In what
we saw the moon he saw the hearth full of hot coal. What we would call
separation he calls it a withered flower or a tired bird trying to catch
his half that flew away with another flight of birds. For all that he is
different. When he did something fine he wanted to do it better. When he
did it better he wanted to catch the meaning. When he cought the meaning
he wanted to find the essence. When he found the essence he wanted to become
one with the nature, his most important ideal. Talking about Eminescu in
any other language, but Romanian is the same with viseting the Eiffel Tower
He is universal, but Romanian.
Highschool Techirghiol, Romania