Velvet shadows of firs,
Mountains painted by nature,
The trusting clatter of storks,
Beyond the expanses, expanses again.

Masterpieces in the showcases of beauties
All but beg for the canvases.
Suddenly from the side a brook began to murmur
And a carefree soul began to sing.

The charm of the Carpathians so beckons,
It takes all sinfulness off you…
If love to the edge hurts so,
Then how will the sky hurt?