Ballads, Serbian; Folk songs, Serbian; Serbian poetry -- History and criticism; Serbian poetry -- Translations into English
I LOVED her from her infancy,
Lado! Lado!
From childhood to maturity,
Lado! Lado!
And when I claim’d the smiling maid,
Lado! Lado!
“Ye are of kindred blood!” they said,
Lado! Lado!
“Brother and sister’s children ye,
Lado! Lado!
It were a sin to steal a kiss,”
Lado! Lado!
Oh what a sacrifice is this!
Lado! Lado!
I’ll steal a kiss though I be riven,
Lado! Lado!
From every, every hope of heaven,
Lado! Lado!
For what would heaven become to me,
Lado! Lado!
When the long nights of autumn flee,
Lado! Lado! {206}
WITCHES.
THE sky is cover’d with stars again:
The plains are cover’d with flocks of sheep:
But where is the shepherd? On the plain
The shepherd is lost in careless-sleep:
The youthful Rādoje sleeps:—Arise!
Awake! his sister Jania cries.
“Jania! sister! nay! depart!
My body to witches is plighted:
My mother has torn away my heart,
And my aunt my mother lighted.”
PLEDGES.
THE wind was with the roses playing:
To Ranko’s tent it blew their leaves:
Militza, Ranko, there were staying;
And Ranko writes—Militza weaves.
His letter done, he drops his pen:
Her finish’d web she throws aside:
And lo! I heard the lover then
Low whisper to his promised bride:
“Militza! tell me truly now
And dost thou love me—love me best?
Or heavy is thy nuptial vow?”—
And thus the maid the youth address’d:
“O trust me—thou my heart—my soul!
That thou art dearer far to me—
Far dearer, Ranko! than the whole
Of brothers—many though they be:
And that the vows we pledged together
Are lighter than the lightest feather.”
COMPLAINT.
O FLOWER! so lovely in thy bloom,
Be evil fate thy mother’s doom!
Thy mother, who so kindly nurst,
And sent thee to our village first.
Where heroes o’er their cups romancing,
And our young striplings stones are flinging,
And our delighted brides are dancing,
And our gay maidens songs are singing—
’Twas then I saw thee, lovely flower!
And lost my quiet from that hour.
SONG.
The winter is gone,
Beloved, arise!
The spring is come on,
The birds are all singing:
Beloved, arise!
The roses are springing;
Earth laughs out in love:
Beloved, arise!
And thou, my sweet dove!
O waste not thy time:
Beloved, arise!
Enjoy the sweet bliss
Of a kiss—of a kiss:
Beloved, arise!
In the hour of thy prime,
Beloved, arise!
MAHOMMEDAN SONG.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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