An Anthology of Jugoslav Poetry; Serbian Lyrics Part 14

MAIDEN'S AFFECTION

"Black is the night--an outcast lad Is wandering in our village, mother!

Thy daughter's heart is very sad, Sad even to death! He has no home: O give him ours, he has no other, And bid the lad no longer roam!"

"Nay! daughter, let this outcast stray, He is a proud and city youth; Will ask for wine at break of day, And costly meats at eve, forsooth, And for his city-tutor'd head Will want a soft and stately bed."

"O mother! In G.o.d's name divine, Give the poor lad a shelter now: My eyes shall serve instead of wine, For costly meats my maiden brow.

My neck shall be his honey comb.

His bed the dewy gra.s.s shall be, And heaven his stately canopy.

His head shall rest upon my arm.

O mother! give the youth a home, And shelter, shelter him from harm."

S. J. B.

LXXVIII

MARRIAGE SONGS

The Marriage Leader:

"Make ready! make ready,"

To his sister the youth is repeating; "Make ready my steed for the wedding, O sister! the young Doge[29] is waiting.

I'm bid to the wedding, I'm summon'd to guide To the wedding the maiden--the Doge's young bride."

The approaching bridegroom:

What is s.h.i.+ning on the verdant mountain?

Sun--or moon--that s.h.i.+nes so brightly, 'Tis not sun, or moon that s.h.i.+nes so brightly, 'Tis the bridegroom hasting to the marriage.

Parting of the bride:

Sweetest of maidens! O be still, Be silent--prithee weep not now Thy mother she will weep--wilt fill Her sorrowing eyes with tears, for thou Wilt leave thy cherish'd home ere long: And when thy young companions go To the fresh stream, amidst the throng She'll seek thee--will she find thee! No!

Departure of the wedding guests:

O thou young bridegroom, thou rose in its beauty, Lo! we have brought thee a rosemary branch, And if the rosemary branch should decay, Thine will the shame be, the sorrow be ours.

Scatter the rosemary leaves o'er thy way; Let not destruction disparage its flowers.

To the bride, when the marriage hood is first put on:

Maid from a distant forest tree, A verdant leaf is blown to thee; And that green leaf has fixed it now, In the green garland on thy brow: The garland green, that we have bound Maiden! thy auburn ringlets round: O no! it is no leaf, that we Have braided in a wreath for thee; 'Tis the white hood that thou must wear, The token of domestic care: Thou hast no mother now--another, A stranger must be called thy mother; And sister-love thy heart must share, With one who was not born thy brother.

At the marriage:

An apple tree at Ranko's door was growing, Its trunk was silver, golden were its branches; Its branches golden and of pearls its foliage, Its leaves were pearls, and all its apple corals.

And many dovelets, on the branches seated, Coo'd in their fond affection to each other; Coo'd loudly, and they pluck'd the pearls--one only One, only one was silent, one was silent-- It coo'd not, pluck'd no pearls from off the branches: That one was terrified by Ranko's mother: "Begone--grey dovelet! thou art an intruder!

Was not the apple-tree by Ranko planted?

By Ranko planted, and by Ranko watered, That it might shade the guests at Ranko's marriage, Shade all his guests beneath its joyous branches."

S. J. B.

LXXIX

HEROES SERVE

Upon the silent Danube's sh.o.r.e, When ev'ning wastes, 'tis sweet to see 'Their golden wine cups flowing o'er'; Our heroes in their revelry.

A youthful beauty pours the wine, And each will pledge a cup to her; And each of charms that seem divine, Would fain become a wors.h.i.+pper.

"Nay! heroes, nay!" the virgin cried, "My service--not my love--I give: For one alone--for none beside: For one alone I love and live."

S. J. B.

Lx.x.x

YOUTH AND AGE

Lo! the maid her rosy cheeks is laving.

Listen! while she bathes her snowy forehead: "Forehead! if I thought an old man's kisses Would be stamp'd upon thee, I would hasten To the forest, and would gather wormwood Into boiling water press its bitters: With it steep my forehead ev'ry morning, That the old man's kiss might taste of wormwood.

But, if some fair youth should come to kiss me, I would hurry to the verdant garden: I would gather all its sweetest roses, Would condense their fragrance,--and at morning, Every morning, would perfume my forehead So the youth's sweet kiss would breathe of fragrance, And his heart be gladden'd with the odour.

Better dwell with youth upon the mountains, Than with age in luxury's richest palace: Better sleep with youth on naked granite, Than with eld on silks howe'er voluptuous."

S. J. B.

Lx.x.xI

CHOICE