An Anthology of Jugoslav Poetry; Serbian Lyrics Part 20

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 pa.s.sed 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 PEAc.o.c.k AND THE NIGHTINGALE

How beautiful it is this evening-time!

The n.o.blemen, they quaff the cool wine, And to their knee there comes a little stag, With golden peac.o.c.k proudly on one shoulder, While on the other, perching there as neighbour, Behold a silver-throated nightingale!

Upon whom gazing, saith the peac.o.c.k golden: "How now, my silver-throated friend!

If mine it were to trill thy liquid note, To every n.o.ble knight I'd sing a song, And honour each in turn from my clear throat."

Answered the nightingale in silver voice: "List, l.u.s.trous peac.o.c.k 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 n.o.bles round about."

J. W. W.

CXIII

THE FIRST TOAST

Rising at the banquet table, Now acclaim we our first toast, To our G.o.d'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 HOD[vZ]A[33]

In Mostar was a sheker-meyteph,[34]

Thirty young ladies were learning there, Omer-effendia was their hod[vz]a, And pretty Maru[vs]a their kalfa.[35]

One day Maru[vs]a opened the Koran: "Tell us now, hod[vz]a, tell what is written!'

Hod[vz]a reads silently, then he speaks loudly: "First page--The hod[vz]a is going to marry!

"Willeth so Allah, so willeth hod[vz]a--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 Maru[vs]a."

J. W. W.