Agigea Bridge over the Danube - Black Sea Canal near Constanta (Romania)

Dunare de acum porti spre mare un nou drum
Porti spre mare mandria ca ce fac si ce spun
E si drept, e si bun cand te inalti Romania.

The Danube now carries a new road to the sea

You take pride in what I do and what I say

It's right, it's good when Romania rises.

Lyrics of Magistrala albastra

about this channel

Basarab Bridge crossing the Dambovita River in Bucharest (Romania)

A young maiden Dambovita helped a prince to find his way in the forest. The prince asked her to marry him, but she refused as she was engaged to the shepard Bucur. The prince gave her a dagger as a present. At home she told her husband about the encounter and he felt sorry that he could not provide her with such a prosperous life as a prince could. To prove her lover she did not need to be rich she plunged the dagger into a rock. The purest water began to come out of the rock. The stream grew and grew until it became into a river, the river Dambovita. They decided to stay in that place and soon others gathered around the river and the town Bucharest was born.

Bucharest foundation legend

Traian Bridge crossing the river Mures in Arad (Romania)

I fell sleep on the banks of the Mures,
and there I had the saddest dream,
I dreamt my darling had another lover behind me
Love then, love, but watch out who,
Because love can blind you, love can blind you

Love song from Transylvania

Basarab Bridge over the Dambovita River in Bucharest (Romania)

Bucharest might seem overwhelmingly intricate, like a spider web or a labyrinth, it might look unsettling and dangerous. A foreigner has to spend many years here to get the zest of the city and to get to love its inhabitants

Bucharest according to 
Mircea Cartarescu

Bridge over the Bistrita River in Ciocanesti, Bukovina (Romania)

Below, hidden,

presses up

what so hurts the eyes,

hill upon hill,

invisible.

On each

fetched home into its today,

an I slipped away into dumbness:

wooden, a post.

...

Excerpt from a poem of Paul Celan

about coming back to Bukovina