He. "And art thou wed, my beloved?
My Beloved of long ago?"
She. "I am wed, my Beloved. And I have given
A child to this world of woe.
And the name I have given my child is thine:
So that, when I call to me my little one,
The heaviness of this heart of mine
For a little while may be gone.
For I say not ... 'Hither, hither, my son!'
But ... 'Hither, my Love, my Beloved.'"
XC
SLEEP AND DEATH
The morning is growing: the cocks are crowing:
Let me away, love, away!
'Tis not the morning light;
Only the moonbeam white.
Stay, my white lamb, stay,
And sleep on my bosom, sleep.
The breeze is blowing: the cattle are lowing:
Let me away, love, away!
'Tis not the cattle there;
Only the call to prayer.
Stay, my white lamb, stay,
And sleep on my bosom, sleep.
The Turks are warning to the mosque, 'tis
morning!
Let me away, love, away!
'Tis not the Turks, sweet soul!
Only the wolves that howl.
Stay, my white lamb, stay,
And sleep on my bosom, sleep.
The white roofs are gleaming: the glad children
screaming:
Let me away, love, away!
'Tis the night-clouds that gleam:
The night winds that scream.
Stay, my white lamb, stay,
And sleep on my bosom, sleep.
My mother in the gateway calls to me.... "Come
straightway"
And I must away, love, away!
Thy mother's in her bed,
Dumb, holy, and dead.
Stay, my white lamb, stay,
And sleep on my bosom, sleep.
O. M.
XCI
IMPERFECTION
All in the spring,
When little birds sing,
And flowers do talk
From stalk to stalk;
Whispering to a silver shower,
A violet did boast to be
Of every flower the fairest flower
That blows by lawn or lea.
But a rose that blew thereby
Answer'd her reproachfully,
(All in the spring,
When little birds sing,
And flowers do talk
From stalk to stalk):
"Violet, I marvel me
Of fairest flowers by lawn or lea
The fairest thou should'st boast to be;
For one small defect I spy,
Should make thee speak more modestly:
Thy face is fashion'd tenderly,
But then it hangs awry."
O. M.
XCII
EMANCIPATION
The Day of Saint George! and a girl pray'd thus:
"O Day of Saint George, when again to us
Thou returnest, and they carouse
Here in my mother's house,
May'st thou find me either a corpse or a bride,
Either buried or wed;
Rather married than dead;
But, however, that may betide,
And whether a corpse or a spouse,
No more in my mother's house."
O. M.
XCIII
PLUCKING A FLOWER
He. O maiden, vermeil rose!
Unplanted, unsown,
Blooming alone
As the wild-flower blows,
With a will of thine own!
Neither grafted nor grown,
Neither gather'd nor blown,
O maiden, O rose!
Blooming alone
In the green garden-close
Unnoticed, unknown,
Unpropt, unsupported,
Unwater'd, and uncourted,
Unwoo'd and unwed,
A sweet wild rose,
Who knows? Who knows?
Might I kiss thee, and court thee?
My kiss would not hurt thee!
A sweet, sweet rose,
In the green garden-close,
If a gate were undone,
And if I might come to thee
And meet thee alone?
Sue thee, and woo thee,
And make thee my own?
Clasp thee, and cull thee, what harm would be
done?
She. Beside thy field my garden blows,
Were a gate in the garden left open ... who
knows?
And I water'd my garden at eventide?
(Who knows?)
And if somebody silently happen'd to ride
That way? And a horse to the gate should be
tied?
And if somebody (Who knows who,), unespied,
Were to enter my garden to gather a rose?
Who knows?... I suppose
No harm need be done. My beloved one,
Come lightly, come softly, at set of the sun!
Come, and caress me!
Kiss me, and press me,
Fold me, and hold me!
Kiss me with kisses that leave not a trace,
But set not the print of thy teeth on my face,
Or my mother will see it, and scold me.
O. M.
XCIV
A WISH
I would I were a rivulet,
And I know where I would run!
To Save, the chilly river,
Where the market boats pass on;
To see my dear one stand
By the rudder; and whether the rose
Which, at parting, I put in his hand,
Warm with a kiss in it, blows;
Whether it blows or withers:
I pluckt it on Saturday;
I gave it to him on Sunday;
On Monday he went away.
O. M.
XCV
A SERBIAN BEAUTY
'Tis the Kolo[31] that dances before the white
house,
And 'tis Stojan's fair sister, O fair, fair is
she!
Too fair she is truly, too fair, heaven knows,
(God forgive her!) so cruel to be.
The fair Vila, whom the wan clouds fondly follow
O'er the mountain wherever she roam it,
Is not fairer nor whiter than she.
Her long soft eyelash is the wing of the swallow
When the dew of the dawn trembles from it,
And as dawn-stars her blue eyes to me:
Her eyebrows so dark are the slender
sea-leeches;
Her rich-bloomed cheeks are the ripe river
peaches,
Her teeth are white pearls from the sea;
Her lips are two half-open'd roses;
And her breath the south wind, which discloses
The sweetness that soothes the wild bee.
She is tall as the larch, she is slender
As any green bough the birds move;
See her dance—'tis the peacock's full
splendour!
Hear her talk—'tis the coo of the dove!
And, only but let her look tender—
'Tis all heaven melting down from above!
O. M.
XCVI
SLEEPLESSNESS
Sleep will not take the place of Love,
Nor keep the place from Sorrow.
Oh, when the long nights slowly move
To meet a lonely morrow,
The burden of the broken days,
The grief that on the bosom weighs,
And all the heart oppresses,
But lightly lies on restless eyes
Love seals no more with kisses.
O. M.
XCVII
A MESSAGE
Sweet sister of my loved, unloving one,
Kiss thy wild brother, kiss him tenderly!
Ask him what is it, witless, I have done
That he should look so coldly upon me?
Ah, well ... I know he recks not! Let it be.
Yet say ... "There's many a woodland nodding yet
For who needs wood when winter nights be cold."
Say ... "Love to give finds ever love to get.
There lack not goldsmiths where there lacks not
gold.
The wood will claim the woodman by-and-by;
The gold (be sure!) the goldsmith cannot miss;
Each maid to win finds lads to woo: and I...."
Well, child, but only tell him, tell him this!
Sweet sister, tell him this!
O. M.
XCVIII
TRANSPLANTING A FLOWER
O maiden, mother's golden treasure!
Purest gold of perfect pleasure!
Do they beat thee, and ill-treat thee,
That I meet thee all alone?
Do they beat thee, that I meet thee
All too often, all too late,
After nightfall, at the gate
Of the garden, all alone?
Tell me, tell me, little one,
Do they do it? If I knew it,
They should rue it! I would come
Oftener, later, yet again,
(Hail, or snow, or wind, or rain!)
Oftener, later! Nor in vain:
For if mother, for my sake,
Were to drive thee out of home,
Just three little steps 'twould take
(Think upon it, little one!)—
Just three little steps, or four,
To my door from mother's door.
Love is wise. I say no more.
Ponder on it, little one!
O. M.
XCIX
ISOLATION
The night is very dark and very lonely:
And as dark, and all as lonely, is my heart:
And the sorrow that is in it night knows only:
For the dawn breaks, and my heart breaks. Far
apart
From my old self seems my new self. And my
mother
And my sister are in heaven,—so they say:
And the dear one dearer yet than any other
Is far, far away.
The sweet hour of his coming ... night is
falling!
The hour of our awakening ... bird on bough!
The hour of last embraces ... friends are
calling
"Love, farewell!" ... and every hour is silent
now.
O. M.
C
FATIMA AND MEHMED
Beneath a milk-white almond tree,
Fatima and Mehmed be.
The black earth is their bridal bed;
The thick-starred sky clear-spread
Is their coverlet all the night,
As they lie in each other's arms so white.
The grass is full of honey-dew;
The crescent moon, that glimmers through
The unrippled leaves, is faint and new:
And the milk-white almond blossoms
All night long fall on their bosoms.
O. M.
CI
MORAVA HORSES[32]
On the banks of Morava,
Sleek black horses danced,
"Could not we," one horse did say,
"Over this river swim to-day?"
But the second cried, "Beware,
Deep flows the stream, beware, beware!
'Twas by these banks of Morava,
At set of sun a knight was drowned,
And dawn had broke ere he was found.
If mother this poor knight had had,
Within a day his fate she'd know,
And him to seek next day would go;
The third day, finding him, would weep,
And who knows how long sad heart keep?"
To which a third black horse replied
"No mother mourns him as lost son,
But mother-in-law the knight has one!
She in one year would surely cry:
'What has my daughter's husband done?'
And in two years find time to go
Toward the place where he lay low;
And when there should have passed years three,
His grave, perchance, she then might see—
Where long since green grass had grown,
The peacock preened himself and flown."
J. W. W.
CII
THE GIRL AND THE GRASS
In the green grass a girl fell asleep;
When she awoke the grass was red,
And her ruddy cheeks were green instead.
Before the Kadi the girl sued the grass:
Give me, O grass, my color red!"
And to the girl the red grass said:
"Thy color red, I'll give it thee,
When my color green thou dost give me."
Then before the Kadi they exchanged color
And became bosom-sisters for ever and ever.
J. W. W.
CIII
THE SUN AND THE GIRL
To the great sun a radiant maiden cried:
"Bright sun, thy beauty cannot equal mine!"
Whereon the burning orb complained to God:
"Let me bring low her pride, and scorch her
face."
To which request his mighty Maker said:
"The burden that she bears is weight enough;
Her father and her mother, both I've taken;
One simple, smiling youth alone is left to her;
Touch not their joy, let him be fond of her."
J. W. W.
CIV
CURSE AND BLESSING
To the river ran the mother,
To her Mary by the water,
Dreaming there, the pretty daughter:
"Have you washed the linen, Mary?"
"Why, mother dear, not yet begun;
A naughty youth did come my way,
And muddy made the silvery water."
"I'll curse him, then; I'll curse him, daughter!
Cold be his heart as ice is cold."
"As cold as the sun o'er the corn-fields,
mother!"
"May his face be black before all men!"
"As black as the snow on the mountains, mother!"
"May he be hanged!—Dost hear, my daughter!"
"But hanged upon my neck, dear mother!"
"From grievous wounds he then shall suffer!"
"Let my own teeth, then, cause them, mother!"
"May the wild torrent take him, daughter!"
"And bring him home to me, my mother!"
J. W. W.
CV
THE NICEST FLOWER IN THE WORLD
A yellow orange by the sea
Vaunted much his beauty,
This boast the red, round apple heard,
Scolded the orange for his word,
"See my superiority!"
The apple's boast the meadow heard,
The meadow rich beflowered:
"Boast not, thou smooth, round apple red,
But see how I am carpeted,
So green and richly dowered!"
The meadow's boast the maiden heard:
"Deem'st flowery mead, so great thy worth!
Though sweetly thou art sure bedight,
Yet still I am the sweetest sight,
That can be found in all the earth."
These vaunts heard all a daring youth:
"This maid, I see she is in truth,
She is by far the sweetest flower
That can be found in all the earth.
That orange, I will bring it down,
That apple-tree, I'll root it up,
That meadow's flowers shall all be mown,
And thou, fair maid, shalt be mine own!"
J. W. W.
CVI
THE PRETTY TOMB
"Wait, my girl, I want to talk,
Though my talk will wound thee!"
"Speak, O Youth; I'll listen, speak!
Even though thou wound me"
"Well, I am about to die."
"Die! Where will they bury thee?"
"I pray to rest upon thy breast."
"Ah! blind and foolish is thy prayer!
That were unseemly cemet'ry.
My bosom is no graveyard lone,
An apple orchard is my breast
Where fruits do ripen, birds do rest!"
J. W. W.
CVII
TODA AND HER FATE
Many youths paid court to Toda,
She, the blithesome shepherd girl;
So with mirthful laugh she cried:
"The youth on whom my apple falls,
'Tis henceforth he my heart enthralls."
Then Toda threw her apple red,
Which fell upon a grey-haired head.
Toda had not wished such love,
So sent him off to draw her water.
She sent him thus unto the river,
That no more trouble he might give her!
But safely back the old man came,
Brought the water, smiled and spake:
"O love me, Toda, love me, Toda."
Toda did not want to love him,
So sent him off to cut down branches,
Not caring should they fall upon him;
But safely back the old man came,
Brought the wood, and smiled and spake:
"O love me, Toda, little Toda!"
Toda did not want to love him,
So sent him to the war to fight,
Not caring what might be his plight:
But safely back the old man came,
Back from the war, and spake the same:
"O love me, Toda, Toda, love me!
That which must be, let it be."
J. W. W.
CVIII
THE VILA
Under the clouds there's nought to me
So handsome as a falcon bird.
A falcon I did wish to be,
And my wish by God was heard.
High to the clouds I flew,
And over the clouds too!
Then to a nut-tree I shot down.
Under the tree a vila sleeping!
Or else some being strange to me!
Oh, God Himself, and He alone, can say,
But she was fairer than the fairest summer day.
J. W. W.
CIX
THREE ROSES
Red Sun! too quickly art thou hasting down;
A little while prolong thy stay,
Smile from thy evening gate on me,
Till I've adorned with roses three—
Roses of silk in purest gold—
My darling's garment that I hold:
The first rose, a rose for my own country dear,
The second, a rose for sweet mother,
The third, the rose of my own bridal crown.
O stay, glad Sun! too quickly art thou going
down!
J. W. W.
CX
HER DREAM
The girl awoke at dawn of day,
Aroused by trilling roundelay;
"Nightingale, oh, stop thy singing!
Stop thy singing, pray!
Cease thy songs, and fly away
To Cattaro, down by the bay.
To Cattaro now speed thy flight,
To tell the dream I've dreamt this night:
I found me in his garden gay,
Gathering fair roses;
With his eye he followed me,
As I passed from tree to tree.
I brought him then red roses fair,
And tied them in his steed's black hair.
Smiling, then a ring he gave me;
Ah, a ring so rare!
And he kissed me where I stood;
A kiss that made to me all good.
Smiling, yes, a kiss he gave me!
Than golden ring with diamond bright
More precious far in my heart's sight.
Stop singing, bird!
This is my dream; go, tell him so,
Go! wing thy way to Cattaro."
J. W. W.
CXI
TROUBLE WITH THE HUSBAND
I married last year,
This year I repent.
Bad husband have I,
With temper like nettle:
My lot I resent.
The frost kills the nettle,
But this husband of mine,
He thinks the frost fine:
By the stove all day long
He does nothing but sit,
And says that the frost
He minds not one bit!
In Celovec 'tis market-day,
'Tis market-day to-morrow;
I will take my husband there,
And will either there him change,
Or else will sell him at the fair.
Not too cheap I'll let him go,
Because he was so hard to get;
Rather than too cheaply sell him,
Back home again I'll take the man,
And love him—howsomuch I can!
J. W. W.
CXII
THE PEACOCK AND THE NIGHTINGALE
How beautiful it is this evening-time!
The noblemen, they quaff the cool wine,
And to their knee there comes a little stag,
With golden peacock proudly on one shoulder,
While on the other, perching there as neighbour,
Behold a silver-throated nightingale!
Upon whom gazing, saith the peacock golden:
"How now, my silver-throated friend!
If mine it were to trill thy liquid note,
To every noble knight I'd sing a song,
And honour each in turn from my clear throat."
Answered the nightingale in silver voice:
"List, lustrous peacock in thy blue and gold!
If mine it were, that sheeny fan of thine,
Its golden feathers all I would pluck out,
And decorate these nobles round about."
J. W. W.
CXIII
THE FIRST TOAST
Rising at the banquet table,
Now acclaim we our first toast,
To our God's high honour drink we,
Only of His glory think we—
No first place to human boast!
To celebrate the Lord's great glory—
What equal duty to be found?
Say, all ye who sit around,
Save truly to have earned the dinner!
J. W. W.
CXIV
THE HODŽA[33]
In Mostar was a sheker-meyteph,[34]
Thirty young ladies were learning there,
Omer-effendia was their hodža,
And pretty Maruša their kalfa.[35]
One day Maruša opened the Koran:
"Tell us now, hodža, tell what is written!'
Hodža reads silently, then he speaks
loudly:
"First page—The hodža is going to
marry!
"Willeth so Allah, so willeth hodža—thus on
page two!
And on page three—Whom will he marry, whom will
he marry?
Thus on page three—He'll marry the pretty
Maruša."
J. W. W.
CXV
WOES
Woe to the wolf that eats not flesh,
Woe to the knight who drinks not wine,
Woe to the maid who counteth love
No gift divine.
Woe to legs with a foolish head,
And woe to gilt on an unclean bed.
Woe to satin on humped shoulders.
Woe to the gun in a fearsome hand,
Woe to the strong in that village where
But cowards stand.
Woe to the mother-in-law in the house of her
son-in-law.
Woe to the wolf whom the ravens feed,
And to the knight who children doth need
Him to defend.
Woe to the cock who strutteth on ice,
Woe to the nightingale singing in the mill;
In such a din, far better to be still!
J. W. W.
CXVI
HARD TO BELIEVE
A man ne'er born once told a tale
To seven stout ghosts so hearty and hale;
A ship went sailing 'mid greenwood trees,
While the burning sun her crew did freeze.
A horse danced o'er the billowy sea,
From him a duck with hoofs did flee.
From an empty cup two knights did quaff,
Served by a maid whose head was off.
Two wingless geese flew up in the sky,
As a legless hero ran hard by;
While near him scampered two roasted hares,
Hotly pursued by three dogs in pairs.
Then to the deaf man the dumb man spoke:
"What a monstrous lie! but I hope it's a joke."
J. W. W.
CXVII
THE CONDITIONS
Listen, listen man of God,
If thou wouldest serve thy God,
In thy lifetime do thou good,
And revere thine elder brother,
So thy younger thee revere.
Neither boast when fortune smileth,
Nor complain in days of trouble;
Grasp not an another's good;
For when death befalleth man,
Nought he takes from out the world,
Save his deeds and crossed white hands—
When he goeth to the Judgment,
Where king's rank is unaccounted,
Rich men can no more be proud,
Poor men be no more despised.
J. W. W.
CXVIII
PRAYER BEFORE GOING TO BED
With a cross I lay me down,
With a cross I get me up,
All day long it doth protect,
And angels in the night are near;
Archangels, they shall ward my death,
And God's my guard till all things end.
J. W. W.
CXIX
VISION BEFORE SLEEP
To sleep I laid me down,
Making my prayer to God;
I called upon His angels;
Heaven was unveiled to me;
The Seraphim, they worshipped there,
And prayed this prayer to Christ our Lord:
"While he doth rest, all through his sleep,
Frome visions dark do Thou him keep."
J. W. W.
CXX
PRAYER IN THE FIELD
We pray unto the Heavenly Lord,
Koledo, Koledo![36]
Dew to send upon our fields,
Koledo!
To give grain to wheat and maize,
Koledo, Koledo!
To give fruits in all the glades,
Koledo!
To give colours to the flowers,
Koledo, Koledo!
To give health to sheep and cattle,
Koledo!
And pardon, joy and song to all,
Koledo, Koledo!
J. W. W.
CXXI
A CHILD IN HEAVEN
Yesternight was born a Child,
But it passed from earth at morn,
Unbaptized to heaven's door.
"Open, heavenly watchman, open!"
"Nay, foolish babe, thou must away!
Sinful thou art, away, away!"
"Foolish I am—but sinful, nay;
Born yesternight, I died to-day;
In the green forest I was born,
Where no sponsor, where no priest;
Therefore unbaptized I come!"
Then the heavenly watcher answered:
"Go thou yet a short way on;
Go on, my babe, and thou shalt find
Three watersprings; from one to drink,
From one to wash, the third a font of blessing.
The first shall breast-milk be to thee;
The second is thy mother's tears,
And from the third thou shalt baptized be,
And joyful entrance gain to heaven."
J. W. W.
CXXII
CHRISTMAS
Why trembleth so the earth,
Set in this sphere of blue?
Christ our God was born hereon,
He, the Virgin's Holy Son,
Christ Who heaven and earth created,
And us sinners on the earth.
In awe when He shall come to judge,
We all shall stand before Him then,
Both righteous and unrighteous men.
J. W. W.
CXXIII
CHRIST THINKS OF HIS MOTHER
On angel wing in upward flight
Rise soul and body of our Lord,
When piercing heaven with high gaze,
He calleth for one down to go,
Down to darksome Golgotha,
Where Mary bending near the Cross,
Weepeth in bitter agony:
"Let herald hasten now to tell her
I am risen unto heaven."
Great Michael heard, two angels sent,
Swift to convey the tidings glad:
"O thou of women all most blest,
Let not thy heart with fear be filled;
From the tomb thy Son is risen,
Risen to the Father's throne,
Saving men from Death's dominion."
J. W. W.
CXXIV
THE BLESSED MARY AND JOHN THE BAPTIST
The Blessed Mary sent an angel
Unto John the Camel-girdled—
"God's wish it is, and my wish too,
That thou shouldst now my Son baptize."
John went responsive to the river,
Down into Jordan with the Christ,
And there upon him with his Lord,
Open wide the gate of heaven,
The roseate sun did light the east,
Sign of that Spirit-first of which spake John,
Whose purging heat doth purify from sin,
And in Jordan's flowing river
Man's sin was taken all away!
Our salvation is in heaven!
Save, O God, all trusting souls,
Save them from the devil's toils.
J. W. W.
CXXV
THE HOLY MOTHER
Sadly walked the Holy Mother
On the Holy Mountain.
Suddenly espied she something
Brightly shining in the dust:
The Cross, it was, of her own Son.
With gentlest hands she caressed it,
She did wash it with her tears,
And after dried it with her hair.
Kneeling then she uttered prayer.
Speaking to the Holy Cross:
"O sweet Cross, thou Cross of honour,
Upon thee my Son has died,
Hellish pains on thee He suffered,
Hellish pains from those hot nails,
To redeem our sinful souls.
When He did upon thee bleed,
His blood it fell in priceless seed,
Whence there sprang all lovely flowers,
And angels, coming down to gather,
Made them into wreathes and garlands
That they might adorn all heaven."
J. W. W.
CXXVI
DREAM OF THE HOLY VIRGIN
The Holy Virgin dreaming slept,
And in her dream a great tree grew,
Its branches from her own heart crept,
O'er spreading earth, north, south, east, west,
And piercing, spire-like, heaven's blue.
Sore troubled by her dream she rose
And sought straightway a saintly brother;
"Hear Saint Basil, my brother hear!
Let me tell my vision wondrous
I dreamed and lo! a great tree grew,
Its branches from my own heart crept,
O'erspreading earth north, south, east, west,
And towering up through heaven's blue.
What saith this vision Saint, to you?"
Then Basil answered to the Virgin:
"O sister dear, thy vision's clear:
'A tree did spring from thy warm heart?'
To bear the Christ shall be thy part.
'Those spreading branches covering all?'
Sinners He'll save from evil's thrall.
'That height spire-piercing heaven's blue?'
To God the Father Christ shall rise
Passing from earth and fleshly view."
J. W. W.
CXXVII
MOTHER AT THE TOMB OF HER SON
Alas! my son, how fareth it with thee,
In thy new dwelling, new and strange and dark?
Strange thy dwelling without windows!
At daybreak, Vinko, thy sad mother rose,
Her earliest thought as but of thee,
Her first thought, Vinko; Vinko her first call!
Thorns are growing at the house-door,
Cuckoos mourn around the house,
Downcast thy brothers wait for thee,
To talk with thee, to walk with thee—
But now that ne'er can be.
With head bent down and brow o'ercast,
They make their way—for where art thou!
In ashes our hearth fire is hidden,
And when I saw the sun this morning,
I thought: It is the moon,
When thy sisters said to me:
"Dim thine eyes, it is the sun!"
"For me no sun," said I to them,
"Pale in the dust now is my sun,
No light have I above the earth."
Down in thy dwelling, oh my son,
Say, is it cold, my Sun, my Sun;
If it be cold as is my breast
It is too cold, too cold to rest.[37]
J. W. W.
CXXVIII
MOTHER OVER HER DEAD SON
Where art thou flying? Where, oh where?
My falcon?
To what silent land and lone?
Say, hero mine!
Around thy friends and brothers ask me:
How shall I answer them!
"Where goes Perko? Tell us, Mother!"
Woe to me, oh woe to me!
If I answered, I might blame thee!
How blame thee?
Alway thou askedst me: May I go here—or
should
I stay?
I knew thy way!
But now thou askedst not; nor may I give thee
"Yea" or "nay,"—
O blank, blank day!
Better, child, I went to thee, than to stay
As mother here
Having lost the light of day!
J. W. W.
CXXIX
MOTHER'S LAMENT FOR HER SON
Wherefore do I marvel, wherefore need I wonder?
Traveller the dearest!
That through this lower world already thou hast
sped,
Ray of light the fleetest!
Together we'd a little talk, but we looked for
more,
Thou my golden store!
To the realms of heaven thou from earth art
gone,
Thou my heaven and earth!
Thou thy flight hast taken, sure, to a land of
flowers,
Dearest of my flowers!
Thy journey leadeth up to God, unto the blest in
Paradise,
Thou my Paradise!
Thou shalt behold the Judgment Place,
Merciful my son!
Soon shalt reach those halls of rest,
Thou who gav'st me labour!
There shalt find the noble dead,
Thou my sweetest life!
Greet them all, the rich and poor,
Best of all my riches!
Salute the noblemen and princes.
Thou my prince of princes!
J. W. W.
CXXX
GREATEST GRIEF FOR A BROTHER
O'er Neven woods the sun went down,
The sun went down behind the forest,
As came the heroes off the sea.
The young wife counted anxiously,
The wife of George the Hospodar,
Counted the warriors, found them all,
Save her three treasures who were missing.
She could not find her Hospodar
Nor the best man at their wedding,
And the third treasure was not there;
This treasure was her dearest brother.
For her brave lord she cuts her tresses,
For her best man she wounds her cheeks,
And for her brother puts out both her eyes.
She cuts her hair, it grows again;
She wounds her cheeks, the wounds do heal;
But none can heal those hurt blind eyes,
Nor yet her heart for her lost brother.
J. W. W.
CXXXI
THE DEATH CHAMBER OF HER FATHER-IN-LAW
Why art thou thus attired?
My more than father!
Why art thou thus bedight, so knightly armed?
My fearless knight!
Thou art departing for the city?
My shining city!
In order there to meet the lords and knights,
O my wise lord!
Or go'st thou to a marriage feast?
My pride, my noble guest!
—But why! thine eyes are closed to me!
O closed, O closed to me!
And—can it be!—thy mouth is bound!
This black, black morning!
If thou art gone, and com'st not back—
How empty is the house!
How is it thou couldst leave us so?
To us, O woe, O woe!
Far, far thy journey, and the end not here!
But better is it there!
Mother and father, they will greet thee there,
Among the Blest!
Thy brothers, too, and children in celestial
light,—
O blessed, blessed sight!
Thee will they greet: we in their thoughts shall
be,
O heavenly harmony!
But thou wilt stay, and ne'er return to us,
O woe, O woe to us!
J. W. W.
CXXXII
KOLEDO
The king came to court our Margaret fair,
Koledo, Koledo!
And mother sang clear to our Margaret fair:
Koledo, Koledo!
"Oh, Margaret, haste! my daughter dear,
Koledo, Koledo!
The King, he has come to court you here,
Koledo, Koledo!"
Then thus sweet Margaret to mother's call:
"Koledo, Koledo!
I told you, mother mine, I told you,
Koledo, Koledo!
I want not kings, I want not knights,
Koledo, Koledo!
'Tis Jesus Himself alone doth bind me,
Koledo, Koledo!
I've vowed to Him, true shall He find me,
Koledo, Koledo!"
J. W. W.
CXXXIII
A HORSE'S COMPLAINT
A horse left his knight on Kossovo,
On a dreadsome place on Kossovo.
Finding his steed, the knight put question:
"O horse of mine, my greatest treasure,
Why hast thou left me here so lonely,
In this deadsome place on Kossovo?
What have I done thus to displease thee?
Say, horse of mine, why didst thou leave me?
Did press my saddle hard upon thee?
Thy jewelled bridle, was it heavy?
Or have I ridden thee too far?"
To his knight the horse made answer:
"Thy saddle pressed not hard upon me,
Thy jewelled bridle was not heavy,
Nor hast thou ridden me too far.
But this it is that doth displease me:
So oft thou tarriest at the tavern,
While I am tethered at the door.
Three maidens fair are dwelling there,
Whose beauty makes thee all forgetful,
While I am out here cold and fretful;
Then angrily I paw the earth,
And eat the grass down to its root,
And drink the water dry as stone,
While thou dost leave me here alone."
J. W. W.
CXXXIV
A DANCE AT VIDIN
One day at Vidin they did dance the Kolo:
"Oh, let me, mother, go and see!"
"There is thy brother, go with him!"
"My brother! he can stay at home,
I do not want to go with him."
One day at Vidin they did dance the Kolo:
"Oh! let me, mother, go and see!"
"There is thy father, go with him!"
"Oh, let my father stay at home,
I do not want to go with him."
One day at Vidin they did dance the Kolo:
"Oh! let me, mother, go and see!"
"There is thy darling, go with him!"
"Oh, come, my sweetheart, come with me!
I'll dance the Kolo there with thee!"
J. W. W.
CXXXV
THE PRICE
How many towns from here to the coast?
Seventy-seven sunlit towns,
And villages green a thousand!
And all of these I'd give for the street
Where I my sweetheart first did meet,
And e'en the street I'd give as the price
To meet him again—aye, but for a trice!
J. W. W.
CXXXVI
PREFERENCES
Three maids were talking on a night,
Upon a silvery moonlight night.
They walked and talked of many things,
They asked what each preferred to have.
Two did listen to the eldest:
"A castle white is what I'd like."
Then two did hear the second say:
"'Tis velvet blue with gold I like."
Then two listened to the youngest:
"A sweetheart true I would prefer.
Should the castle all be ruined,
My darling would rebuild it up;
The velvet would with time wear out,
My darling he could buy me more—
A sweetheart true is richer store!"
J. W. W.
CXXXVII
A BRIDE'S DEVOTION
A Bride most fair fed a swan and a lion,
A swan and a lion and a falcon grey.
To her came merchants from far away:
"Sell us, sweet maid, your swan and your lion,
This swan and this lion and falcon grey!"
"Ye men from afar, go away, go away,
My godfather cometh to see me wed,
And this lion I tend till the time be sped;
And for my true friend who best man shall be,
This white swan I keep, and for none but he!
But this falcon grey ye covet so much,
'Tis my true love's own; none shall it touch."
J. W. W.
CXXXVIII
FIDELITY
A youth to God did pray,
About his sweetheart dear,
That he the gem might be
Which trembled in her ear.
He wished to be the beads
Reposing on her breast,
That he might hear her say
That she loved him best.
The prayer he prayed was heard
A pearl beside the shore,
His darling picked him up,
And on her necklet bore.
He listened and he heard
How true her loving heart:
She told the other maids
She ne'er from him would part.
J. W. W.
CXXXIX
A SISTER'S LAMENT
Sister was I of kingly brothers three,
But now my kings are gone from me,
Woe, woe, woe!
Better kingdoms they are asking,
Better work than this world's tasking,
And God will grant it, where they go,
Better service He'll bestow,
But for me, alas! Oh! woe!
So kingly brothers ne'er were known,
Now my heart breaketh here alone.
This world for me too dark is now,
And I took dark for it, I trow!
Woe, woe, woe!
J. W. W.
CXL
THE PRAYER OF KARAGEORGE'S LADY[38]
Prayed of God the Karageorge's Lady!
"Give me, God, to bear a maiden lovely,
Patternized by Carapića Vasa,
Grant us, O God, to choose name of beauty,
Name of beauty, precious gold of mother.
When shall come the baby, christen'd Goldie,
Swaddling clothes her mother will then make her,
Flowing clothes of linen for her infant,
All of silk and cloth of gold so beauteous,
As she's Goldie let gold bless her slumber.
When she's come to her little cradle,
Then her mother will make little cradle,
Little cradle of gold will she make her,
As she's Goldie, let cradle be golden.
When Goldie is grown up to be spinner,
Spinning-wheel her mother then will make her,
Of gold will she make her golden spindle,
As she's Goldie let her wheel be golden.
When Goldie knows how to embroider,
Golden frame her mother will then make her,
Of gold will she make her spinning trinket,
As she's Goldie, may her work be golden."[39]
B. S. S.