DECEBALUS* TO HIS PEOPLE - George Coşbuc – translated in English by Daniel Ionita This life’s a stale and aimless jaunt If you don’t live as is your wont! A tyrant tribe demands with blare, Around your neck a yoke to wear: We’re born, and that’s a cursed haunt, We wish a second snare? For even if to gods we’re heir, One death is all we’re asked to...