An Anthology of Jugoslav Poetry; Serbian Lyrics Part 9

CAUTIONS

O thou lovely maiden!

Lo! thy praise has mounted To the monarch's city Maiden! thou hast planted The six-branch'd _kaloper_[23]

And bosilka early.

But the youths unmarried Long have been in waiting To tear up thy balsam-- Thy bosilka pillage.

Know'st thou not they linger Just to steal thy kisses?

Maiden! Maiden! never Let those youths betray thee!

S. J. B.

LI

MAIDEN'S CARES

O sleep! sweet sleep! in vain, in vain I bid thee visit me: The anxious thought disturbs my brain-- Whose shall the maiden be?

My mother says, "The goatherd, child!

The goatherd, child! for thee."

Nay, mother, nay! not he, not he; That were no happiness for me: He tracks the mountains steep and wild Where rocks and dangers be.

O sleep! sweet sleep! in vain, in vain I bid thee visit me: The anxious thought disturbs my brain-- Whose shall the maiden be?

My mother says, "The shepherd, maid!

The shepherd, maid! for thee."

Nay, mother, nay! not he, not he; That were no happiness for me: He wanders through the distant glade Where wolves and perils be.

O sleep! sweet sleep! in vain, in vain I bid thee visit me: The anxious thought disturbs my brain-- Whose shall the maiden be?

My mother says, "The tradesman, dear!

The tradesman, dear! for thee."

Nay, mother, nay! not he, not he; That were no happiness for me: He is a wanderer far and near, His house no home may be.

O sleep! sweet sleep! in vain, in vain I bid thee visit me: The anxious thought disturbs my brain-- Whose shall the maiden be?

My mother says, "The tailor, then The tailor, then, for thee!"

Nay, mother! nay; not he, not he!

That were no happiness for me: The tailor's needle may be keen, His children hungry be.

O sleep! sweet sleep! in vain, in vain I bid thee visit me; The anxious thought disturbs my brain-- Whose shall the maiden be?

My mother says,--"The peasant, take The peasant, child! for thee."

Yes! mother, yes! in him I see Both love and happiness for me; For though his labouring hands are black, The whitest bread eats he.

S. J. B.

LII

MOHAMMEDAN SONG

His breath is amber,--sharp his reed; The hand which holds it, O! how white.

He writes fair talismans,--a creed, For maidens doth the loved one write: "Of him that will not have thee,--think not!

From him that fain would have thee, shrink not."

S. J. B.

LIII

MINE EVERYWHERE

"Come with me, thou charming maiden!

Be my love and come with me."

'Wherefore play with words so foolish?

That can never, never be; I had rather in the tavern Bear the golden cup, than ever,-- Ever promise to be thine.'

"I am the young tavern-keeper, So thou wilt indeed be mine."

'Wherefore play with words so foolish?

No such fate will e'er befall; In the coffee-house I'd rather Serve, envelop'd in my shawl, Rather than be thine at all.'

"But I am the coffee boiler, Thee, my maiden, will I call."

'Wherefore play with words so foolish?

That can never, never be; Rather o'er the field I'll wander, Changed into a quail, than ever, Ever give myself to thee.'

"But I am a vigorous sportsman, And thou wilt belong to me."

'Play not, youth! with words so foolish, That can never, never be; Rather to a fish I'd change me, Dive me deep beneath the sea, Rather than belong to thee.'

"But I am the finest network, Which into the sea I'll cast; Mine thou art, and mine thou shalt be,-- Yes; thou must be mine at last; Be it here, or be it there, Mine thou must be everywhere."

S. J. B.

LIV

MAID AWAKING

Lovely maiden gather'd roses, Sleep o'ertook her then; Pa.s.s'd a youth and call'd the maiden, Waked the maid again: "Wake! O wake! thou lovely maiden, Why art slumbering now?

All the rosy wreaths are fading, Fading on thy brow.

He, thy heart's own love, will marry; He will break his vow!"

'Let him marry, let him marry, I shall not complain; But the thunderbolt of heav'n Shall destroy him then.'