Andrei Pleșu: A surprise with Vlahuță

A great university professor from Great Britain, Mr. Dennis Deletant, is, among other things, a unique specialist in researching Romanian culture (he has perfectly learned our language, rigorously studied the texts and circumstances that define it, and has always done so not only with scientific rigor but also with an unusual friendly attachment). I am glad that I met him personally (along with his wife, Mrs. Andreea Caracostea, who decisively amplifies his "kinship" with his research sphere). A few days ago, Dennis made an incredible surprise for me: he sent me a poem by Alexandru Vlahuță, written in 1881 and titled "Cermacii." As you will see, it seems written today, but without Dennis's all-encompassing professionalism, I fear we would never have found it. Convince yourselves!

Alexandru Vlahuță
Cermacii

(Târgoviște, June 1881)

Oh, wretched country, what bad days you have reached!

Their claws, embedded in your chest, have pierced you without mercy

And in pieces, the infamous ones, your flesh, your wealth!

All that has been found in the world, more rotten, more cruel, more evil,

Are these wretches without a soul, without any dignity,

Holding your days in their hands, and your honor under their feet.

And they, the beasts, believe themselves gods,

As children often believe they are gods while stepping on reeds.

They are big and strong, and they have neither shame nor modesty

For one day, perhaps, their descendants will demand an account

For their deeds. What do they care? Shovelers, at the helm of the country

They are masters on the ship, on the winds, and on the waves of the sea!

And when you think that these traitors, this pack of swindlers

Through tricks and intrigues have become powerful, great,

And when you see the stairs of life where they have been and where they are,

When you see with what pride, with what haughty and fierce eyes

They look today from above at the prostrate people

In the miseries into which they, the traitors, have thrown him,

When you look at how they flaunt, how they make fools of themselves,

Oh, you begin to believe that the gods have long been asleep in the heavens!

And then, after they have slapped and spat in the face of the country,

After they have plunged the people into the abyss of destruction,

After nothing has remained unmocked by them,

These worthless men, these scoundrels have the courage

To shout in front of the world that the country wants us! Do you want the country? Listen to this shamelessness!

Oh, if it were up to the will of the country, you would know where you would wake up!

In a dungeon, yes! There your bones would rot!

How can we still see in the country honor, work, prosperity,

When the varnish today is everything, when you see that through flattery

And the charlatans, the ignorant, have come this far!

How can you still toil your life to learn a little book

When you see that in this country, given as prey to the wicked,

The wise are victims, the wretches are the rulers.

My conclusion? We have traditions!

https://www.dilema.ro/situatiunea/o-surpriza-cu-vlahuta