  FRAGMENTS OF SERBIAN POPULAR POETRY Hark! the moon is to the day-star calling: "Morning star! say, where hast thou been wandering; Tell me where thou hast so long been lingering; Where hast white days three so wasted,—tell me?" To the moon, anon, the day-star answer'd: "I have wander'd, moon! and I have linger'd, Lingered o'er Belgrad's white towers, and wondered At the marvellous things which I have witnessed: How two brothers have their wealth partitioned, Jakshich Dmitar and Jakshich Bogdana. They had thus arranged the shares allotted, Well their father's substance had divided: Dmitar took Wallachia Took Wallachia and entire Moldavia; Banat also, to the river Danube. Bogdan took the level plains of Sermia, And the even country of the Sava; Servia, too, as far as Ujitz's fortress. Dmitar took the lower fortress'd cities, And Neboisha's tower upon the Danube; Bogdan took the upper fortress'd cities, And the church-possessing town, Rujitza. Then a strife arose about a trifle,— Such a trifle; but a feud soon follow'd,— A black courser and a grey-wing'd falcon! Dmitar claims the steed, as elder brother Claims the steed, and claims the grey-wing'd falcon. Bogdan will not yield or horse or falcon. When the morning of the morrow waken'd, Dmitar flung him on the sable courser, Took upon his hand the grey-wing'd falcon, Went to hunt into the mountain forest; And he called his wife, fair Angelia: 'Angelia! thou my faithful lady! Kill with poison thou my brother Bogdan; But if thou refuse to kill my brother, Tarry thou in my white court no longer.' When the lady heard her lord's commandments, Down she sat all sorrowful and gloomy; To herself she thought, and said in silence, —'And shall I attempt it?—I, poor cuckoo! Shall I kill my brother—kill with poison!— 'Twere a monstrous crime before high heaven, 'Twere a sin and shame before my people. Faster than the hunter's eye could follow, Lo! the duck had seized the grey-wing'd falcon, And against his sides had crush'd his pinion. Soon as Dmitar Jakshich saw, he stripp'd him, Stripp'd him swiftly of his hunting garments;— Speedily into the lake he plung'd him, And he bore his falcon from its waters. Then with pitying voice he ask'd his falcon: 'Hast thou courage yet, my faithful falcon! Now thy wings are from thy body riven?' Whispering, said the falcon to his master: 'I without my pinions nought resemble, But a brother riven from a brother.' Then the thought pierced through the breast of Dmitar, That his wife was charged to kill his brother. Swift he threw him on his mighty courser— Swift he hurried to BijÖgrad's Praying that his brother had not perish'd. He had hardly reached the bridge of Chekmel, When he spurr'd his raven steed so fiercely That the impetuous courser's feet sank under, And were crushed and broken on the pavement. In his deep perplexity and trouble, Dmitar took the saddle off his courser, Flung it on the courser's nether haunches, And he fled alone to Belgrad's fortress. First he sought, impatient, for his lady— 'Angelia! thou my bride all faithful! Tell me, tell me, hast thou kill'd my brother?' Sweet indeed was Angelia's answer: 'No! indeed I have not killed thy brother; To thy brother have I reconciled thee.'" JELITZA AND HER BROTHERS. Nine fair sons possessed a happy mother; And the tenth, the loveliest and the latest, Was Jelitza,—a beloved daughter. They had grown together up to manhood, Till the sons were ripe for bridal altars, And the maid was ready for betrothing. Many a lover asked the maid in marriage; First a Ban; And the third, a neighbour from her village. So her mother for the neighbour pleaded; For the far-off dwelling ban her brothers. Thus they urged it to their lovely sister: "Go, we pray thee, our beloved sister, With the ban across the distant waters: Go! thy brothers oft will hasten to thee; Every month of every year will seek thee; So the maiden listened to her brothers, With the ban she crossed the distant waters: But, behold! 0 melancholy marvel! God sent down the plague, and all the brothers. All the nine, were swept away, and lonely Stood their miserable sonless mother. Three long years had pass'd away unheeded; Often had Jelitza sighed in silence: "Heaven of mercy! 'tis indeed a marvel! Have I sinn'd against them?—that my brothers, Spite of all their vows, come never near me." Then did her stepsisters scorn and jeer her: "Cast away! thy brothers must despise thee! Never have they come to greet their sister." Bitter was the sorrow of Jelitza, Bitter from the morning to the evening, Till the God of heaven took pity on her, And he summon'd two celestial angels: "Hasten down to earth," he said, "my angels! To the white grave, where Jovan is sleeping,— Young Jovan, the maiden's youngest brother. Breathe your spirit into him; and fashion From the white grave-stone a steed to bear him: From the mouldering earth his food prepare him: Let him take his grave shroud for a present! Then equip and send him to his sister." Swiftly hasten'd God's celestial angels To the white grave where Jovan was sleeping. From the white grave-stone a steed they fashion'd; Into his dead corpse they breathed their spirit; From the ready earth the bread they moulded; For a present his grave-shroud they folded; And equipp'd, and bade him seek his sister. Swiftly rode Jovan to greet his sister. Long before he had approach'd her dwelling, Far, far off his sister saw and hail'd him; Hastened to him—threw her on his bosom, Loosed his vest, and stamp'd his cheeks with kisses. Then she sobb'd with bitterness and anguish, Then she wept, and thus address'd her brother: "0! Jovan! to me—to me, a maiden, Thou, and all my brothers, all, ye promised Oft and oft to seek your distant sister: Every month in every year to seek her,— Every week in every month to seek her. Three long years have sped away unheeded, And ye have not sought me"—For a moment She was silent; and then said, "My brother! Thou art deadly pale! why look so deadly But Jovan thus check'd his sister: "Silence, Silence, sister! as in God thou trustest; For a heavy sorrow has o'erta'en me. When eight brothers had prepared their nuptials, Eight stepsisters ready to espouse them, Hardly was the marriage service ended Ere we built us eight white dwellings, sister! Therefore do I look so dark, Jelitza." Three white days had pass'd away unheeded, And the maid equipp'd her for a journey. Many a costly present she provided For her brothers and her bridal sisters: For her brothers, fairest silken vestments; For her bridal-sisters, rings and jewels. But Jovan would fain detain her—"Go not, Go not now, I pray thee—my Jelitza! Wait until thy brothers come and greet thee." But she would not listen to her brother: She prepared the costliest, fairest presents. So the young Jovan began his journey, And his sister travell'd patient by him. So as they approach'd their mother's dwelling, Near the house a tall white church was standing, Young Jovan he whispered to his sister— "Stop, I pray thee, my beloved sister! Let me enter the white church an instant. When my middle brother here was married, Lo! I lost a golden ring, my sister! Let me go an instant—I shall find it." Jovan went—into his grave he glided— And Jelitza stood—she stood impatient— Wondering—wondering—but in vain she waited. Then she left the spot to seek her brother. Many and many a grave was in the churchyard Newly made—Jovan was nowhere—Sighing, On she hasten'd—hasten'd to the city, Saw her mother's dwelling, and press'd forward Eager to that old white dwelling. Listen To that cuckoo's cry within the dwelling! Lo! it was not the gray cuckoo's crying— 'Twas her aged, her gray-headed mother. To the door Jelitza press'd—outstretching Her white neck, she call'd—"Make ope, my mother! Hasten to make ope the door, my mother!" But her mother to her cry made answer: "Plague of God! avaunt! my sons have perish'd— All—all nine have perish'd—Wilt thou also, Take their aged mother!" Then Jelitza Shriek'd, "0 open—open, dearest mother! I am not God's plague—I am thy daughter, Then the mother push'd the door wide open, And she scream'd aloud, and groan'd, and flung her Old arms round her daughter—All was silent— Stiff and dead they fell to earth together. THE HOLY NICHOLAS. God of mercy! what a wond'rous wonder! Such a wonder ne'er before was witness'd. In Saint Paul's—within the holy cloister, Gather'd round a golden table, seated In three ranks, the saints are all collected; O'er them sits the thunderer Elias; In the midst are Sava and Maria; At the ends are Petka and Nedelia; And their health the holy Nicholas pledges. Pledges them their health to Jesus' glory. But behold, behold the saint!—he slumbers; From his hand the cup of wine has fallen, Fallen from it on the golden table: Yet the wine's unspilt,—the cup unbroken. Then laughed out the thunderer Elias: "0 my brother! 0 thou holy Nicholas: Often drank we cooling wine together; But it was our duty not to slumber, Not to drop the cup—And tell me, brother, Why to-day does slumber's power subdue thee?" Him thus answer'd Nicholas the holy: "Jest not thus with me, thou sainted thunderer! For I fell asleep, and dreamt three hundred, Dreamt three hundred friars had embark'd them In one vessel on the azure ocean; Bearing offerings to the holy mountain, Offerings,—golden wax, and snowy incense. From the clouds there broke a furious tempest, Lash'd the blue waves of the trembling ocean, Scooping watery graves for all the friars. Then I heard their blended voices call me, 'Help, 0 God! and help, 0 holy Nicholas! Would that thou, where'er thou art, wert with us!' So I hurried down to help the suppliants— So I saved the whole three hundred friars So I shipped them full of joy and courage; Brought their offerings to the holy mountain, Brought their golden wax, their snowy incense;— And meanwhile I seem'd in gentle slumber, And my cup fell on the golden table." A maiden proudly thus the sun accosted: "Sun! I am fairer than thou,—far fairer; Fairer than is thy sister Fairer than yon bright moon at midnight shining, Fairer than yon gay star in heav'n's arch twinkling, That star, all other stars preceding proudly, As walks before his sheep the careful shepherd." The sun complain'd to God of such an insult: "What shall be done with this presumptuous maiden?" And to the sun God gave a speedy answer: "Thou glorious Sun! thou my beloved daughter! Be joyous yet! say, why art thou dejected? Wilt thou reward the maiden for her folly— Shine on, and burn the maiden's snowy forehead. But I a gloomier dowry yet will give her; Evil to her shall be her husband's brother; Evil to her shall be her husband's father. Then shall she think upon the affront she gave thee." FROZEN HEART. Thick fell the snow upon St. George's day; The little birds all left their cloudy bed; The maiden wander'd bare-foot on her way; Her brother bore her sandals, and he said: "0 sister mine! cold, cold thy feet must be." "No! not my feet, sweet brother! not my feet— But my poor heart is cold with misery. There's nought to chill me in the snowy sleet: My mother—'tis my mother who hath chill'd me, Bound me to one who with disgust hath fill'd me." LIBERTY. Nightingale sings sweetly In the verdant forest: In the verdant forest, On the slender branches. Thither came three sportsmen, Nightingale to shoot at. She implored the sportsmen, "Shoot me not, ye sportsmen! "Shoot me not, ye sportsmen! I will give you music, In the verdant garden, On the crimson rose-tree." But the sportsmen seize her; They deceive the songster, In a cage confine her, Give her to their loved one. Nightingale will sing not— Hangs its head in silence: Then the sportsmen bear her To the verdant forests. Soon her song is waken'd; Woe! woe! woe betide us, Friend from friend divided, Bird from forest banish'd!" BROTHERLESS SISTERS. Two solitary sisters, who A brother's fondness never knew, Agreed, poor girls, with one another, That they would make themselves a brother: They cut them silk, as snow-drops white; And silk, as richest rubies bright; They carved his body from a bough Of box-tree from the mountain's brow; For eyebrows, from the ocean's wave They took two leeches; and for teeth Fix'd pearls above, and pearls beneath; For food they gave him honey sweet, And said, "Now live, and speak, and eat." PRINTED BY ROBERT MACLEHOSE AND CO. LTD., AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS GLASGOW, GREAT BRITAIN. PHOTOS [Illustration: CROWN PRINCE ALEXANDER] [Illustration: PREMIER N.???] [Illustration: SERBIAN OFFICERS UNDER ADRIANOPLE IN 1912.] [Illustration: THE SUPERIOR OF A MONASTERY.] THE TURKISH GENERAL: "Kismet!"] WOMEN DOING THE WORK OF MEN.] From photograph by kind permission of Mr. Crawford Price.] Sculptor: T. Mestovic] FOOTNOTES: |
|
