Part 6

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 Carapi['c]a 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.

CXLI

THOU ART EVER, EVER MINE[40]

O my girl, O my soul, What does mother say to you? Will she marry you to me? Her son-in-law can I be? She might give you, she might not, Thou art ever, ever mine!

B. S. S.

CXLII

SEA MERCHANT[41]

Listen, my girl, listen, my beauty! Thy eyes are corals in the sea, I am a merchant on the sea Buying the riches of the sea.

Listen, my girl, listen, my beauty! Thy teeth are tiniest pearls, I am a merchant on the sea Buying tiniest pearls of the sea.

Listen, my girl, listen, my beauty! Thy hands are whiter than the wool, I am a merchant on the sea Trading in wool o'er the sea.

B. S. S.

CXLIII

ANGELA AS WATCHMAN[42]

Falcon is winging high, But the fortress gates are higher; And Angela is watching there Aureoled in sunshine, Belted with the moonbeams, And flowering with the stars.

B. S. S.

CXLIV

A LAD AND HIS BETROTHED[43]

Little lad is wandering Through a wooded copse, Strutting with a green bough Walking down the slopes. Looking on a courtyard Sees young Jana sweeping:

"O thou pearl, my sweet one, Whence my ring in keeping?" Thus she answered proudly: "May thy brother know, perchance, And should it bring God's blessing He'll join our wedding dance."

B. S. S.

CXLV

DIREFUL SICKNESS[44]

What shall I do, what shall I do? My nights are sleepless, My heart is so restless-- Ah, sorrow, anew, I'll die, My love, for you.

B. S. S.

CXLVI

ALL AS IT SHOULD BE[45]

When the sun sets at even, My love is just coming to me And when the moon has passed Heaven My lover is going from me. So the paths are all darken'd with shadow, Just as it should be, should be In shadow that no one can see.

B. S. S.

CXLVII

BEAUTY PREENS HERSELF[46]

For whom powders face so lovely, Beauty? For whom has she dropped her hair on shoulder, For whom is she wearing charms in bosom? Is it for Valach, or for a Magyar? It is not for Valach nor for Magyar, It is for this Stojan, mighty reaper, Who in Kolo always takes the leadship, When he's playing, every heart is touched. When he's dancing, dances like a puppet.

B. S. S.

CXLVIII

HARVEST SONG[47]

Hurry, hurry, robust harvesters, At field's end there's water and a maiden, Cooling water, and a maiden youthful, Drink ye water, and embrace your maiden.

B. S. S.

CXLIX

LONG NIGHT[48]

These are long nights, these are long nights, For him who does not kiss black eyes, He it is who cannot slumber, For his heart is pierced with sorrow.

B. S. S.

CL

EYEBROW LURE[49]

Oh, my girl, my sweetest flower, Curl not ends of eyebrow bower, Do not grieve your youthful laddies, As your way doth torment me: Leading horse, I wander barefoot-- Carrying boots, I wander barefoot-- Bearing bread, I cannot eat it-- Treading water, cannot drink it.

B. S. S.

CLI

GIRLHOOD[50]

Girlhood was my golden tsardom! Tsar was I while girlhood lasted; Ah, if I could turn me backward, Well I know how I'd live girlhood.

B. S. S.

CLII

YOUTH WITH YOUTH[51]

On the river Sitnitsa Little green fir standeth! Who's young and stripling, Youth with green youth sleepeth. Ah, but see that youthful Jovo, All alone is he, Seeing that the youthful Mara Joins him secretly.

B. S. S.

CLIII

COME, MY LOVER, TO ME[52]

Full and thick is shadow, Come, my love, to meadow, For I've a verdant garden, Red roses for a warden; Golden kerchief will I make thee, Christmas gift of love from me, To carry so splendidly In the memory of thy darling.

B. S. S.

CLIV

SIGHS[53]

Oh my heart, I feel me sighing, Methinks that my lover calls me to him, But in truth my sweetheart's love hath ceased. Cried out falcon from a fir branch lofty: "O girl lovely! Sinfully you are speaking, Only past night your love called you lovely, Drinking wine unto your bounteous pleasure: 'O my girl, my soul of me most dearest, I have made for thee a hiding, Half my bed and half my arm, Half a pillow, half a cover, Half a cushion, heart of mine in bosom.'"

B. S. S.

CLV

A BOUQUET OF LITTLE ROSES[54]

O girl of my soul, my soul, Take this bunch of rosebuds neat, Should thy bouquet fade and fail, Come once more, my soul, to me I will pluck again for thee.

B. S. S.

CLVI

DREAM INTERPRETATION[55]

Darling sweetheart on his free arm sleeping, Makes he motion to sound gong in waking: "Awake, my dear, dearer than mine own eyes, Last night I a strange dream was a-dreaming: My fez swept 'way on the troubled water, Pearls were strewing richly in my lap-robe, And my watch in pieces four was broken." Sweetheart waking, calmly speaking this-wise: "Easy is it to interpret dreaming, That your fez was swept by troubled water Means you're to go forth to battle army; That pearls richly scatter'd in your lap-robe Must mean our tears, thine with mine are mingling; That your watch in pieces four was broken Means in truth that our hearts will be breaking When we're forced to take leave of each other."

B. S. S.

CLVII

WITH SWEETHEART NIGHTS ARE SHORTEST[56]

Cyclone downward rumbling, All the castle trembling. In castle is a girl Crying, never ceasing: "Alas, how long nights are! When sleeping near to papa; On nine soft mattresses, On nine softest cushions, 'Neath nine fine coverlets."

"Alas, how long nights are! When sleeping near to mother; On nine soft mattresses, On nine softest cushions, 'Neath nine fine coverlets."

"Alas, how long nights are! When sleeping near to brother; On nine soft mattresses, On nine softest cushions, 'Neath nine fine coverlets."

"Alas, how long nights are! When sleeping near to sister; On nine soft mattresses, On nine softest cushions, 'Neath nine fine coverlets."

Cyclone downward rumbling, All the castle trembling. In castle is a girl Crying, never ceasing: "Alas, how short the nights are! Sleeping with my darling, Just on single mattress, On a single pillow, 'Neath a single cover."

B. S. S.

CLVIII

DAWN AWAKENED LAZAR[57]

'Wakening Lazar dawn was stealing: "Get up, Lazar; rise up, Lazar! Horse of thine has thirst for water." Forthwith up leaps Lazar quickly, Grasps his horse's bridle lightly, Leading horse, he goes to water, But at water's edge was maiden, With his foot he touched hers gently, Kissed the while her black eyes sparkling, Clasping her about the bosom.

B. S. S.

CLIX

A DEVILISH YOUNG MATRON[58]

When I lived a girl with mother, Good advice was given me often, That I should not drink the red wine, That I should not wear green wreathlets, That I shouldn't kiss a stranger. But I poor girl deeply thinking over: There's no red cheek without red wine sparkling, There's no pleasure without green wreath glistening, Neither amour without stranger wooer.

B. S. S.

CLX

GIRL IS ETERNAL POSSESSION[59]

In a garden works a maiden, Digging furrow, water decoy, To the garden 'luring water, To give drink to early flowers, Early flowers, whitest basil, Whitest basil, gold carnation; Where she's furrowing, there she's sleeping. Putting head in sweetest basil, Hands are lying in carnations, Feet are plac'd in shallow hollow, Covered with a fragile kerchief; Beat upon her dew-drops slender, Like a rain-soaked watermelon. Now there comes a callow youth, Callow youth and not yet married, Grasping two posts, leaps the railing, Springing lightly into garden, Then commences soliloquizing: "Should I pluck a bunch of flowers? Should I kiss a sleeping maiden? Bunch of flowers lasts till mid-day, But a maiden lasts forever."

B. S. S.

CLXI

JOVO AND MARIA[60]

Breeze fans up o'er roses 'long the meadow, To the rich white tent of Jovo, youthful, Where there's Jovo with Maria sitting: Jovo writing and Maria sewing; Ink runs short for Jovo where he's writing, And Maria golden thread is losing, Then to Maria, Jovo thus is speaking: "Oh, my Maria, mine own cherish'd lov'd one! Is my soul to thee a dear possession? For a pillow is my right hand doughty?" Mara to him gently whispering slowly: "Believe me, Jovo, darling of my heart-throb, Dearer to me is thy soul much dearer, Than are altogether four of brothers; Softer to me thy own right hand doughty, Than four softest pillows of my choosing."

B. S. S.

CLXII

ROSE TREE[61]

Planted rose-tree midst of Novi-Sad town, O my rose-bud, O my sorrow rose tree, Cannot pick you, neither give you sweetheart: For my sweetie vents her anger on me, Gliding past my courtyard stealthy, Like the slave who passes Turkish graveyard.

B. S. S.

CLXIII

DARLING'S WRATH[62]

O my darling, be not wrathful; Should I, myself, show my hot displeasure, All of Bosnia never could appease us, Not all Bosnia nor the Hercegovina.

B. S. S.

CLXIV

LAD PIERCED WITH ARROW[63]

Alas hero I'm with arrow pierced, O my Yetsa, thy white face is guilty, Thy black eye-balls are the piercing arrows, Thy white arms are now a very torment. Come, my love bird, to my white court homing, Come to heal my heart's own sore displeasure, To bind up my wounds with thy throat's whiteness, To salve suffering with thy honey kisses.

B. S. S.

CLXV

NOUGHT BUT KISSES[64]

Up and down went youth in mountain, In a garden, girl round fountain; On her threw he hawthorn red,-- Lightly answering, blackthorn sped,-- Think you they intend to kill? Nought but kisses that they will.

B. S. S.

CLXVI

UNITED[65]

Little girl, the small black-eyed, Hero, wondering stupefied: 'Had we means of barter! To lead us near together! I my life long would not quit her, None could make our friendship wither.'

B. S. S.

CLXVII

GIRL PLEADS WITH JEWELLER[66]

Oh, my jeweller, for your trade's sake, listen! Make me hero, all of gold my hero, I will spoil him, as his mother dares not, I will kiss him until dawns the twilight, Till day breaks ever will caress him.

B. S. S.

CLXVIII

WIFE DEARER THAN SISTER[67]

Lo! behold behind the forest Someone loudly screams-- "'Tis a voice," says youthful hero, "Girlish-like it seems." When behold! he looked and spied her, Tiny girl, tree-bound they'd tied her, With fine silken seams. Hear! she prays of youthful hero, dazzled by his might: "Come to me, thou youthful hero, O most beauteous, wonderknight. Come to free me, youthful hero, and I'll be thy sister true." Thus she spake, but laughing he, "O, there's one at home like you." "Come to free me then, my brother; sister-in-law I'll be no other." ('But at home she sits by mother.') "Then I'll be thy golden bride. Take me to thy meadows wide, Take me to thy castles white, Take me, take me from this plight." So she spake to gallant lover, Hovering near and just above her, Clasps her in his arms to love her-- Such a gallant knight!

B. S. S.

CLXIX

GREATEST SORROW[68]

All young heroes here save mine, All young gallant heroes brave. O! that I were sure he'd tarry, Lingering in some sickness grave, Rather than the wish to marry Sends him courting another maid. O! may he be too ill to travel, May him dread illness cause to pine, Rather than to court another, Never, never to be mine.

B. S. S.

CLXX

YOUTH AND GIRL[69]

O maiden, thou gentlest rose When thou wert growing what didst thou behold? Hast thou observed a pine-tree growing Or the slender, proud fir-tree blowing, Or did'st gaze at my youngest brother?--

O glad, young hero, brilliant Sun! Never at the pine-tree blowing Have I look'd in wonder gazing Neither at the slender fir-tree, Nor thy youngest brother, free, Rather have I grown to suit thee, Tender knight, to suit but thee.

B. S. S.

NOTES

[Footnote 1: This song as also those signed "S. J. B." has been transversified and published by (Sir) John Bowring, "Servian Popular Poetry," London, 1827.]

[Footnote 2: The Serbian peasants, especially women, firmly believe that saints, parents, rulers, bishops and clergymen have the privilege of cursing and that the person to whom the curse is addressed is bound to undergo the consequences pronounced by the curser. There are several instances in the Serbian heroic ballads by which it is proven that the national Serbian bards, and indeed all the peasants who participated in the composition of their epic poetry, believe that curses pronounced by privileged persons always come true. Thus in the ballad _Uros and Mrnjavcevici_ King Vukasin of Macedonia, angry with his son Marko Kralyevich because the latter, when chosen for arbiter, said that the imperial crown belonged to Carevic Uros and not to him (Vukasin), exclaimed:

"O son Marko, may God smother thee! Mayest thou have no tomb, nor progeny May thy soul not leave thy body Before thou hast served the Turkish emperor!"

While Marko's kingly father cursed him, Carevic Uros blesses him thus:

"O my Kum Marko, God second thee! Thy face shine at divan Thy sabre smother in duels! May no one excel thee in heroism Thy name be reverently remembered. As long as Sun and Moon shine!"

And the bard finishes his poem with, "Whatever they said, it came true."

Another oral tradition tells us how a nobleman _Velimir Bogati_ (Velimir the Rich) who once refused hospitality to Knez Lazar, the emperor of Serbia (1389), was cursed by the noble prince and how Velimir's first son indeed drowned himself in the river Lepenica, his second son fell from his horse and died in consequence of the accident and how his third, and now only son, was imprisoned by his father in one of the remotest towers of his castle in order to avoid any danger of experiencing the prince's curse. One day, however, Velimir Bogati brought to his imprisoned son some grapes from his own vineyard, in order that the poor young fellow should at least know what time of the year it was, and lo! while the boy was eating the grapes a small viper jumped out of the bunch and mortally bit him. The news of the sudden death of the young nobleman spread rapidly amongst the neighboring villages and fortified the peasants in their belief that one cannot escape the curse.

Par extension a _kletva_ (curse) can be effective even if pronounced, as in the above song, by other persons than those privileged.

Another saga narrates how a peasant greedily coveted and wished to appropriate a corn field that belonged to his neighbour and, in order to attain his evil end, he buried in the middle of that field his only son whom he had previously taught what to say when interrogated. The judge and the plaintiffs came with the defender to the spot and the mischievous peasant in order to mystify those present, exclaimed: "O black earth, speak of thy own free will, to whom dost thou rightly belong?"

"I belong to thee," the voice from below was heard.

The lawful owner, hearing this, started aback. And the judge's verdict appointed the field to belong to the covetous and wrong claimant. And the parties dispersed in wonder.

Then the father began to dig the ground in order to disinter his son. But--there was not the shadow of one! He called loudly and the child answered the call but the voice from beneath the earth was ever fainter and fainter. Finally the child turned to a mole.

Thus became, according to Serbian tradition, the first mole. (Edit.)]

[Footnote 3: Sir John Bowring, although a remarkable transversifier and at times a true interpreter of popular songs of the Slavs, has taken too much of that _licentia poetica_ in his rendering of this, one of the most beautiful lyrics ever composed by Serbian peasant women. The reader may judge for himself, when comparing Sir John Bowring's liberal transversification with the following _verbatim_ translation (which he, himself, felt absolutely indispensable to reproduce) what a great injustice is inflicted upon the popular songs of any people by even the most conscientious transversifier and how infinitely less untrue to the original a rendering can be. (Edit.)

Of this little poem, which Goethe calls "wonderful," the following is an almost literal translation:

Full of wine, white branches of the vine-trees To white Buda's fortress white had clung them: No! it was no vine-tree, white and pregnant! No! it was a pair of faithful lovers, From their early youth betrothed together. Now they are compell'd to part untimely. One address'd the other at their parting, "Go! my soul! burst out and leave my bosom! Thou wilt find a hedge-surrounded garden, And a red-rose branch within the garden; Pluck a rose from off the branch, and place it, Place it on thy heart, within thy bosom; Then behold!--ev'n as that rose is fading, Fades my heart within thy heart thou loved one!" And thus answer'd then the other lover: "Thou, my soul! turn back a few short paces. There thou wilt discern a verdant forest; In it is a fount of crystal water; In the fount there is a block of marble; On the marble block a golden goblet; In the goblet thou wilt find a snow-ball. Love! take out that snow-ball from the goblet, Lay it on thy heart within thy bosom; See it melt--and as it melts, my lov'd one! So my heart within thy heart is melting."

(S. J. B.) ]

[Footnote 4: This song has obviously been composed by a Serbian woman of Mohammedan faith. A large percentage of Serbians in Bosnia, Hercegovina and even Macedonia are still adhering to the Koran. Ali Bey surely must have been a Serbian bey. (Edit.)]

[Footnote 5: Smilia, the _grapharium arenarium_, or "lovely love." Also a woman's name. (S. J. B.)]

[Footnote 6: This song is sung at the close of the harvest, when all the reapers are gathered together. Half as many reeds as the number of persons present are so bound that no one can distinguish the two ends which belong to the same reed. Each man takes one end of the reeds on one side, each of the women takes one end at the other. The withes that bind the reeds are severed, and the couples that hold the same reed kiss one another. (S. J. B.)]

[Footnote 7: _Kalpak_, the fur cap of the Serbians. (S. J. B.)]

[Footnote 8: This is one of the songs sung at the breaking up of the company, addressed to the giver of the festival. (S. J. B.)]

[Footnote 9: _Musko cedo_ (male child). The male sex is in Serbia, as elsewhere, deemed entitled to more care and attention than the other. (S. J. B.)]

[Footnote 10: A handkerchief embroidered and given by a girl to a boy is considered in Jugoslavia as a symbol of love and faith. (Edit.)]

[Footnote 11: As unfortunately Serbian parents often, very often, select the husband of their marriageable daughter, the poor girl, unless disobedient and rebellious, meekly accedes to the choice even if her bridegroom should be an old man. This is obviously a remnant of Turkish dominion in Serbia. (Edit.)]

[Footnote 12: _Zvezda_, star, is of the feminine gender. (S. J. B.)]

[Footnote 13: Sun is feminine in Serbian. (S. J. B.)]

[Footnote 14: The leech, _Sanguisuga_; but in Serbian there is no disagreeable association with the word. It is the name usually employed to describe the beauty of the eyebrows, as swallows' wings are the simile used for eyelashes. (S. J. B.)]

[Footnote 15: _Visnja_, the universal Slavonian name of the Vistula cherry-tree. The _Cerasum apronianum_ of Linne. (S. J. B.)]

[Footnote 16: The _Vila_ nearly corresponds to the _Peri_ of the Persians, and the _Woela_ of the Scandinavians. (S. J. B.)]

[Footnote 17: _Radisa_ is the name of a man. _Radovanje_--joy. (S. J. B.)]

[Footnote 18: _Lepota_ is the Serbian word for beauty. (S. J. B.)]

[Footnote 19: I shall be accused of having _decorated_ this. The translation is more free than I have generally given; but in order to show how little I have deviated from the thought of the original, I give the conclusion. (S. J. B.)