And if the branches tap the pane 
And poplars trembling quiver; 
Thine image comes to mind again; 
I see thee gliding hither. 

And if the star shine beats the lake, 
Its sombre depths illuming; 
This but to sooth my longing ache, 
And rouse my thoughts from glooming. 

And if the storm clouds disappear, 
And forth the moon comes shining; 
It only tells thou hast no peer, 
And sole- supreme art reigning.

English version by Sylvia Pankhurst and I. O. Stefanovici
Transcribed by Mariuca Dumitru
School No 10, Focsani, Romania
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