Here’s a folk song from the northern Maramures region of Romania that can give you a fascinating insight into the Romanian soul (and outlook on life):
“Şi-aşa-mi vine câteodată, dorule/ Să dau cu cuţitu-n piatră, dorule
Din piatră să iasă foc, măi dorule / Dacă-n viaţă n-am noroc, măi dorule
Când s-o-mpărţit norocul/ Fost-am eu dus la lucru
Şi la toţi le-o dat cu carul/ Numai mie cu paharul
Nici acela n-o fost plin/ Jumătate-o fost venin
Nici acela n-o fost ras/ Jumătate-o fost necaz
Înalt e cerul şi senin/ Pe-a mea parte norii vin
Înalt e cerul şi-nstelat/ Pe-a mea parte norii bat
Şi-aşa-mi vine câte-un gând/ Să plec pe păduri cântând.”
(another version, here).
Loosely translated, this melancholy song goes like this:
“Sometimes I get such an urge, oh, my longing/ To ram my knife into a rock, oh, my longing
That the rock should strike sparks / Because I have no luck in my life
When they distributed the luck / I was gone to work
And everyone received carloads of it / Only I received by the cupful
And even that cup was not full / Half of it was venom
And even that cup was not filled to the brim/ Half of it was pain and suffering
The sky is high and blue / On my side of it, the clouds keep coming
The sky is high and full of stars / All the clouds get blown over to my side
And I get such an urge sometimes / To go away into the woods, singing.”
