The Voice of the Mills - Ion Minulescu

Hear the voice of watermills,
Hear the windmills
On the hills,
Hear the voice of the stern mills
As they grind out the Romance
Of tomorrow
And tomorrow,
The bread-giving voice that dresses
In white garments
All that's hope and expectation,
All that's dream and aspiration,
Hear the voice of the stern mills
Grinding in and grinding out
From beneath the heavy stones
The same Song,
Hours on end and days on end,
Hear it,
Hear it all day long,
Listen to it with our awe in the hour of inspiration.
Learn to know it,
Learn to grasp it,
Learn to murmur it by rote,
Learn to sing it with the water,
Learn to sing it with the wind,
For it is the voice that leavens
And kneads Plenty through its song!
And when late at night their voices are all hushed
And all sound dies,
When in coffin-like millraces motionless the water lies,
When through the still sails, with sovereign nonchalance,
The wind goes on
As if through the ragged canvas of a drifting galleon,
When the millstone seems a seal
Dug up from the dusted over parchments of old princely charters,
Think of how the germination
Of the winter corn will sprout
From beneath the heavy millstones
All that's hope and expectation,
All that's dream and aspiration,
And remember and rejoice
At the voice that's grinding out
The Romance of our tomorrows,
At the stern bread-giving voice!