English translation (translated by Thomas Carlson and Vasile Poenari, provided by Romanian Voice)

Then we met more often. 
I stood at one side of the hour,
you at the other,
like two handles of an amphora. 
Only the words flew between us,
back and forth. 
You could almost see their swirling,
and suddenly,
I would lower a knee,
and touch my elbow to the ground
to look at the grass, bent
by the falling of some word,
as though by the paw of a lion in flight. 
The words spun between us,
back and forth,
and the more I loved you, the more
they continued, this whirl almost seen,
the structure of matter, the beginnings of things.

Romanian original

Pe urmă ne vedeam din ce în ce mai des. 
Eu stăteam la o margine-a orei,
tu - la cealaltă,
ca două toarte de amforă. 
Numai cuvintele zburau intre noi,
înainte şi înapoi. 
Vârtejul lor putea fi aproape zărit,
şi deodată,
îmi lăsam un genunchi,
iar cotul mi-infigeam în pământ,
numai ca să privesc iarba-nclinată
de caderea vreunui cuvânt,
ca pe sub laba unui leu alergând. 
Cuvintele se roteau, se roteau între noi,
înainte şi înapoi,
şi cu cât te iubeam mai mult, cu atât
repetau, într-un vârtej aproape văzut,
structura materiei, de la-nceput. 

What is lost in the translation of this poem is that even though the metaphor of words swirling between people and flying and being light like air is easily understood in English, in Romanian it’s actually a play on words. “Cuvânt” is the Romanian word for the noun “word,” but a cleverly inserted space — “cu vânt” — makes it mean “with wind.” So in Romanian, words inherently carry wind with them, propelling them between people.