Cetatea Neamtului is literally a fortress in Romania. Like any fortress worth the mention, it inevitably created stories, legends and the like. And since I've been recently reminded of one of the most heroic-style legends1 spawned by this particular fortress, I just had to note here for all to see, a quite different version of that same story. This is a poem called Cetatea Neamtului, written by George Cosbuc2 and translated by yours truly. If it's not the best translation, it's still the only one I found.
While both this story and the one linked are works of fiction, that's not to say there is no truth that one might learn from them. And although bravery, courage and all that are good and proper, things might just have been - here and there - slightly different, let's say. Perhaps more like this:
Sunt cu ceara picurate | Words have long become all shapeless |
Filele-n bucoavna mea, | In this wax-stained tome3 of mine. |
Dar citesc, cum pot, in ea. | Still, I'm reading it quite fine. |
Spune-acolo de-o cetate | Says my book there was a fortress |
Care Neamtul se numea | Known as Neamtul in its time. |
Si-au zidit-o, spune-n cronici, | And its builders – there's discussion4 - |
Nemti, germani sau teutonici. | Might be Teutons, Germans, Prussians. |
E ruina azi de veacuri. | It's been ruined now for ages. |
Unde-o fi? Vezi asta-i greu! | Where is it? Well, that's a bother! |
Cine credeti ca sunt eu | It was something or the other - |
Ca sa stiu atatea fleacuri! | Why should I read all the pages? |
Cui va sti, ii dau un leu. | Do you know it all, my brother? |
Zici ca afli-n carti de scoala? | Think you'll find it in some books? |
As! Ramai cu mana goala. | Not a chance – you'll find but crooks. |
Deci, in ceasul diminetii, | So5, in the early morning hour |
Cand pranzesc acei ce au, | When those having food start eating |
In cetate-aici erau, | In the fortress – as befitting - |
Langa comandantul pietii, | The commander then in power |
Toti strajerii si-asteptau, | And his men were all there chatting, |
Povestind si-ntinsi pe iarba, | Lounged upon the grass and steady, |
Chisalita sa le fiarba. | Waiting 'till the broth6 be ready. |
Dar, pe cand Guzgan rastoarna | Alas, as Guzgan7 is taking |
Mamaliga din ceaun, | The polenta out of kettle8, |
Din clopotnita Taun | One Taun9 shows up his mettle - |
Sun-afurisit din goarna. | Pulls the bell-rope 'till it's breaking. |
Unu-i striga: Esti nebun! | Someone shouts at him: “You nettle!” |
Altul: Ce-ai tu daca striga? | But another: “Don't be rude! |
I-o fi dor de mamaliga. | He's just shouting for some food.” |
Dar se-ntorc spre zid plaiesii; | Still, they look beyond the walls: |
Vad pe ses un nor de osti. | Far below they see an army. |
Mai Istrate, tu-i cunosti: | Hey, Istrate, who's the barmy: |
Turcii sunt? Ba, parca lesii, | Are they Turks? Or, maybe Poles? |
Vin incoace. Pai, sunt prosti? | Coming here – heh, not barmy! |
Bat si ei cel drum, ca manzul, | They are moving on a hunch |
Sa ne strice noua pranzul. | Right on time to spoil our lunch. |
Lesi erau. Sobiesky-voda | They were Poles indeed. Precisely - |
Ratacit p-aici prin vai, | T'was Sobiesky – quite the bummer. |
Caci pe-atunci era la moda | As the custom was then nicely |
Vara, cand plecau la bai, | For the kings to go in summer |
Regii mesteri in batai | For a bath or for a hummer, |
Sa-si ia drumul incotrova | They all chose without a fail |
Totdeauna prin Moldova. | Through Moldova to prevail. |
Si plecau fara merinde | And they traveled without food |
Caci asa era bonton | As they wanted all for free - |
Sa manance tot plocon, | Eating what they found, with glee. |
Ce puteau ici-colo prinde. | Eating, that is, what they could. |
Dar acest slavit Ion | But this John10 so brave and shrewd |
Isi avu-n desagi slanina. | Had his bacon in his bag - |
Si-i pierdu, sa-i bata vina! | Then he lost it – what a snag! |
Deci, cu osti, vestitul riga, | Therefore, the King was going |
Cum umbla pe-aici flamand | Through the valleys, hungry feeling, |
Si simti, prin vai trecand, | When he suddenly went reeling - |
Aburi calzi de mamaliga, | Tasty scents the wind was blowing. |
Stiu si eu ce-i dete-n gand, | Quite so tasty he was squealing |
Ca-si opri deodata pasul, | And he froze there on the spot |
Tot tragand in vant cu nasul. | Sniffing food but eating nought. |
E vrun praznic in cetate. | “There's a feast up in the castle. |
Stefan voda El mi-ar da! | Must be Stefan King11 – he'd feed me!” |
Cred ca nu, maria ta, | “Sire, I doubt it that he'd give thee |
Ca-i un drac si jumatate, | Anything to eat – just hassle. |
Nu prea da, ca-i el asa. | He's like that, quite full of glee.” |
Mie, nu? Sa-ncrunt spranceana! | “That is nonsense! Not a dinner? |
Eu ori el batu Vieana? | In Vienna wasn't I the rightful winner?” |
Domn ca mine cat traieste | “Brave as me a King, so mighty, |
Nu-i deprins sa-nghita-n sec. | Has no habit food to want for.” |
Iar un general zevzec, | To which, one General – a bore - |
Raspunzand pe latineste | Talked in Latin quite the flighty: |
Zise: Dobre ciolovec ! | “Dobre chelovek”12 - he swore. |
Si-ntinzand sub zid armata, | So the army took position - |
Iata-l ciolovecul gata. | Quite a chelovek addition. |
Si bum-bum apoi cu tunul, | Boom and bang went guns all day, |
Fire-ar ei de ras, poleci! | Shame on them, those Poles out there! |
Mai pe vine sa te pleci, | Carlanas13, do walk with care! |
Carlanas! Si da ceaunul | And you, Berheci14, move away |
Mai departe, tu, Berheci, | Our kettle – there's no spare |
Ca ni-l sparg cu-mpuscatura | And they'll break it with their fire. |
Mai Spancioc, mai tine-ti gura. | Yo, Spancioc, shut up your ire. |
Dar plaiesii din cetate | But the soldiers in the castle |
Raspundeau vartos si ei: | Gave as good as they had gotten. |
Comandantul Onofrei, | Onofrei, all clad in cotton, |
Cel cu pletele-ncurcate, | With his hair tied in a tassle |
Si cu straiu-ncins cu tei, | And his belt a twig all rotten |
Dand adanc zavorul portii, | Blocked the gate with all he had |
Se zbatea ca-n ceasul mortii. | And he thrashed about like mad. |
Si-au batut o saptamana | For a week the Poles kept banging |
Lesii-n zid; dar zidul, prost, | At the walls; but walls were silly |
Sta pe loc, pe cum a fost. | And they didn't move – not really. |
Insusi riga, intr-o mana | In his armour clad and clanging |
C-un pistol, din adapost, | The King took his gun out charging |
Da pe Stefan la toti dracii | At the trees that were all level |
Si-mpusca la rand copacii. | As he cursed King Stefan – devil! |
Deci, vazand ca nici nu-l lasa | Seeing that there was no chance |
Sa se duca-n treaba lui, | To just leave and go away |
Si nici pomeneala nu-i | Or some food to get, let's say |
De-a-l pofti la ei la masa, | In the castle's own expanse, |
Si flamand vai, ce mai spui | King Sobieski hoped to sway |
O lua mai pe departe, | The defenders with his writing |
Pe genunchi scriind o carte. | As he had enough of fighting. |
Hai si descuieti odata! | “Please open that gate already |
Si tovarasi sa va fim. | And we'll be your friends all true. |
Mandru cantec ce mai stim, | We sang all the songs we knew |
Mars francez, fara de plata. | Even French ones15 and the heady. |
Nu vi-e mila ca pierim? | Won't you give us just some stew? |
Poate-o ploaie sa ne-apuce | We would leave but it might rain |
Nu stim drumul, ca ne-am duce. | And we might just walk in vain.” |
Dupa ce-au citit pitacul, | After reading such a letter |
Onofrei iesi pe zid: | Onofrei climbed on the wall: |
Mai, poleci, eu va deschid, | Poles, I'll open, but no brawl |
Dar sa nu va puie dracul | In my fortress and you'd better |
Sa mintiti, ca va ucid! | Keep your word or you'll all bawl. |
Iar de marsuri mi-e cam scarba, | As for French songs, I've no mood - |
Trageti-mi mai bine-o sarba! | Play some sarbas16, if you would. |
Iata poarta se descuie. | Look, they opened now the gate. |
Lesii,-n vale, pe sub plopi, | Poles just stare in disbelief. |
Se crucesc, se cred miopi | Onofrei comes first. Their chief |
Ce vad ei? Din cetatuie | Followed is by less than eight |
Doi cu doi, vro zece schiopi, | Funny looking men – good grief! |
Onofrei ridica tonul: | Onofrei shouts out of tune: |
Un doi, un! Si stati, plutonul! | “Right, left, right! At ease, platoon!” |
Cu sprancenele-ncruntate | Eyebrows knitting, rex17 is heartless: |
Striga rex: Sto pojo boi? | “Sto pojo boi?” asks him. And then counts to three: |
Cine dracul sunteti voi? | “Who the devil might you be?” |
Noi? Plaiesii din cetate. | “Us? Defenders from the fortress. |
Zece-am fost, pierira doi. | Ten we were, but as you see |
Rex facu o mutra lunga, | We are eight now.” Rex looked so gloom |
De credeai ca vrea sa-mpunga. | You'd have thought he found his doom. |
Pentru voi a fost galceava? | “Where's the nobles? Was it you to quarrel so?” |
Dar boierii? Ce gandesti! | “They're in Tirchilesti18, quite rightly.” |
Noi sa stim? Prin Tirchilesti. | Answered someone very brightly. |
Domnul unde-i? E-n Suceava. | “And the King?” “To Suceava19 he would go.” |
Dar poporul? La Plaiesti. | “And the people?” “At Plaiesti20, most likely.” |
Drace, asta-i de poveste! | “Darn, this story's weird and dour. |
N-ati ascuns prin turn neveste? | Are your wives all in the tower?” |
Noi? Da ce, ni-e mintea slaba? | “Ours? Do we seem that foolish? |
Noi suntem crestini curati: | We're all Christians – we don't mingle: |
Astia nu sunt insurati, | Those men here are all single. |
Eu de zece ani n-am baba, | My old hag is dead and ghoulish. |
Voi dupa femei umblati? | If it's maidens with a dimple |
Zbarlea are-n Husi, saracul, | You've been looking for, that's sad - |
Dar urata, goala-dracul! | Zbarlea's wife has long gone mad21.” |
Dar comori ascunse-n oala | “How about your treasures, plenty? |
Si-ngropate! Oale, spui? | Hid in old pots, buried deep.” |
Le-am lasat sa faca pui. | “Old pots you can have for cheap: |
Una-i stirba, si-alta goala; | One is crooked, the other empty. |
Nici o pricopseala nu-i! | There's is nothing they would keep. |
De le vrei plocon ori prada | If you want them for your glory, |
Ia fugi, Zbarleo, si le ada! | Zbarlea'll bring them, there's no worry.” |
Rex atunci: Va tai gramada! | Rex then shouted: “I will kill you.” |
Dar a stat cu mana-n sus | But his hand froze in mid-act |
Caci aminte si-a adus | For there was a niggling fact: |
Ca-i e teaca fara spada: | His sword was now with a Jew |
In Liow zalog si-a pus | In Lviv, as guarantee - an artifact |
Spada cea cu steme duble | Given in those times of troubles |
Pentru-un pol si doua ruble! | For a coin and some two roubles. |
Dand din maini ca cel ce-alunga | So he waved his hands instead |
Ganduri rele: Eu sunt bun. | As to perish such ill thought: |
Apropo, ce-am vrut sa spun? | “I am kind. You bravely fought. |
Onofrei, te vad cu punga, | By the way, Onofrei you said you had |
Da-mi o mana de tutun. | Some tobacco that you brought. |
N-am fumat de-o saptamana, | It's been weeks I last could smoke |
Pune-l ici, te rog, in mana. | Give me some, be a good bloke.” |
Si-aprinzand chibritu-n pripa, | As a hurried match he lit, |
Multumit privea la fum. | The king soon was sat and sizing |
Onofrei, sa-mi spui acum, | Bluish smoke as it was rising. |
Si-apasa cu unghia-n pipa, | He then asked, quite calmed a bit: |
Cum mi-ai stat tu mie-n drum? | “Onofrei, that's straight surprising |
Nu stiai tu de-a mea faima | How you in my way just stayed. |
Ca sa stai nauc de spaima? | Weren't you at least – afraid?” |
Dar glumesc asa! ma iarta, | “I'm just joking – please forgive me. |
Esti erou, s-a hotarat, | You're a hero, that's decided. |
Desi porti pe dupa gat | Though I see hanging lopsided |
Traista hai, si nu-i desearta? | That bag there by your knee. |
O vazui numaidecat | I think I am not misguided |
Ai intr-insa plumbi, de toate. | If I think there's food to spread - |
Branza, cas si paine poate? | Hard and soft cheese, maybe bread?” |
Branza nu, dar am pogace | “Just pogace22, cheese there's none. |
Si-usturoi, maria-ta. | There's some garlic though, my lord.” |
Usturoi! Si-l poti manca? | “Garlic! How'd you eat it by the horde?23 |
Dar la urma, cui i place | You must like it, that's how's done. |
Mon Dieu! Nu te supara: | Mon Dieu! Still, as we put away the sword: |
Tot facuram noi doi pacea: | Would you mind if I just tried |
Ia sa vad, cum e pogacea? | That pogacea, even dried?” |
Si apucand cu maini grabite, | As he got his hands on food |
Rupt de foame ca un lup, | Rex could wait indeed no longer |
Rupe rex, cu totii rup, | As his hunger was quite stronger |
Onofrei al meu, iubite, | Than a wolf's24. He ate and chewed |
Vin la neica sa te pup! | Calling Onofrei from yonder: |
Si-l pupa viteazul riga | “Let me kiss you, my brave, dear” - |
Si-ndopa la mamaliga. | And he kissed him with great cheer. |
Ce-a mai fost putin ne pasa. | What was next we don't quite care for. |
Au plecat polonii-n sus, | The Poles left and went uphill |
Iar plaiesii-n jos s-au dus | While the others went downhill |
La Neculcea drept acasa, | To Neculcea's25 open store |
Iar acesta-n carti i-a pus. | Where he wrote this with his quill |
Si din Dorna pana-n Tulcea, | So from Dorna down to Tulcea26 |
Toti citesc ce-a scris Neculcea. | All since read what wrote Neculcea. |
"Sobieski si romanii" by Costache Negruzzi. ↩
Romanian teacher, translator and quite well-known poet (1866-1918). ↩
In text: "bucoavna" - an old word meaning initially the very first letter books printed for Romanian language: those were essentially church books using the Cyrillic alphabet. ↩
In chronicles, no less! ↩
Starting every other sentence with "so" is one of the most common mistakes made by native speakers of Romanian as well as one of the main pet-hates of teachers of Romanian language all around the country. ↩
In fact "chiselita" being both a sort of vegetarian broth as well as, more generically speaking, any mixture/porridge of no value whatsoever. ↩
Rat. ↩
Iron-cast kettle usually simply suspended above some open-fire for most cooking needs. ↩
Gadfly. ↩
John III Sobieski, King of Poland and Grand Duke of Lithuania. ↩
Stephen the Great of Moldavia, who ruled between 1457-1504. ↩
Obviously, not Latin at all, but a Slavic language. Meaning "good man". ↩
Diminutive of carlan, which means little lamb/kid that was weaned. ↩
While close to "Berbeci" which would mean rams, I'm not so sure this is the intended meaning. Berheci is also a small river in Moldova. ↩
French marches, more precisely. ↩
Traditional Romanian group-dance with a rather rapid tempo. ↩
While in Latin Rex means king, all around Romania Rex is a very common name for a dog. ↩
Main yob neighbourhood of Bucharest in the 19th century. ↩
Capital of Moldavia between 1388-1565 ↩
Possibly Ploiesti, a town 60km from Bucharest. Or Plaiesti, a village in Transylvannia. ↩
Literally she's ugly as the naked devil. ↩
Corn-flour pie baked in the oven or -more likely when not made in a home - directly in the ashes. ↩
Literally: can you eat THAT? ↩
That'd be the equivalent of "he could eat a horse". But since he was rex, so possibly a dog-relation of the wolf, the original Romanian idiom goes much better. ↩
Ion Neculce, 1672-~1744, Moldavian army commander, statesman and writer of two well-known chronicles. ↩
Dorna being in the North-West of Moldavia and Tulcea in the South-East, this means basically in all Moldavia. ↩