I tell the forest the wonders I see in my dreams

And the forest loves to hear the tale of my dreaming

More than the song of birds,

More than the murmur of leaves.

The huts had well-nigh beguiled me to stay, for the windows

Stood wide, and the smiles of the maidens shone out from

within,

But the Heiduck am I—and I love the far-stretching roads

And the plain, and my galloping steed.

My mother gave birth to me, sure, on a sunshiny morning,

And had I but never known love, ah, how happy were I!

I sing at the hour when the moon climbs above the horizon;

The tales that the aged folk know, I can tell, every one,

And I make the young dance, when I sing, to the tune of

my ballads.

For I a strange woman have loved;

She comes every night to me now, and she kisses my forehead,

And asks if I love her still.

She carries a knife in her girdle—her eyes have a glitter

Like daggers—her hand is as white as the veil of a bride;

But her voice I have never heard—yet know I full surely,

She asks if I love her still.

In token thereof I have given her up my girdle,

My cap with its feathers gay,

My mantle with broid'ry brave, and my glitt'ring daggers.

And my songs, I have given them all to her, one by one,

Yet the gayest bring no smile to her face, and the saddest

Are powerless to make her sad.

Then hence she goes, by the small plank over the river

The plank that sways to her step.

The willows bow down their heads, and bend as she passes...

And morning cometh, and findeth me poor and trembling,

Since she hath taken my all from me, even my songs.

Yet is she not content, nor will cease from asking,

Whether I love her still.

I tell the forest the wonders I see in my dreams

And the forest loves to hear the tale of my dreaming,

More than the song of birds,

More than the murmur of leaves.

Almost all the songs have the refrain, as in this example, which is not, necessarily, directly associated with the subject of the song, but is suggested by some incident, circumstance, or scene brought to the mind at the time of the recital. As often in the old Scotch ballads, it adds a weird and touching effect like a dominant note in music, or a symbolical background to a picture.

A marked feature in these folk-songs of Roumania, as in those of all other nations, is the place which fighting has in them, the songs of the soldiers who are going to battle for their native land, and the emotions of heroism, courage, and self-devotion; but as in all these songs there is an underlying element of melancholy, mysticism, and refined and delicate feeling, quite different from the savage ferocity, heartiness, and humor of more northern nations, and there is no trace whatever of the farcical rudeness and cunning which is attached to some of the heroes of the Scandinavian ballads. The sentiments expressed are those of singular refinement for a primitive people, and the general tone of the soldier songs is one of sadness and content in death, rather than of the fierce joy and hope of the conflict, as in the following characteristic specimen:—