"Judge, thou honourable, judge between us:
We three travell'd forth together,
And we met a maiden in our travels,
And we gave her--gave her each a present:
One of us a green and fresh-pluck'd apple:
One presented her _bosiljak_ flowering;
And the third a gold ring for her finger:--
Now decide to whom belongs the maiden."
Thus the honourable judge decided:
"We present _bosiljak_ for its odour:
As a pledge of love we give an apple:
But to give a ring is a betrothing;--
He who gave the ring must have the maiden."
S. J. B.
XLVIII
THE SULTANESS
Listen! I hear a cry, a cry!
The bells are ringing lustily;
And the hens are cackling all in riot.
No! no! no! the bells are quiet;
The hens at rest with one another:
'Tis the sister calls the brother:
"Brother! I am a Moslem slave!
Tear me from my Turkish grave.
Small the price which sets me free:
Of pearls two measures--of gold but three."
In vain she calls her brother.--'O no!
My treasures to my apparel go:
The gold my horse's bridle must deck:
My pearls must grace my maiden's neck;
Must buy a kiss--must buy a kiss.'
The maid her brother answer'd with this:
"I am no slave! I am no less
Than the sultan's chosen sultaness."
S. J. B.
XLIX
BETROTHING
Here there is a maiden,
Young, and yet a virgin:
Give her then a husband,
Or give us the maiden,
And we will betroth her
To Ivan the student.
He's our parson's nephew--
He has art to write[22] on
Pinions of the eagle.
What shall be his subject?
What--but bright-eyed maidens
And the brows of heroes?
S. J. B.
L
CAUTIONS
O thou lovely maiden!
Lo! thy praise has mounted
To the monarch's city
Maiden! thou hast planted
The six-branch'd _kaloper_[23]
And bosilka early.
But the youths unmarried
Long have been in waiting
To tear up thy balsam--
Thy bosilka pillage.
Know'st thou not they linger
Just to steal thy kisses?
Maiden! Maiden! never
Let those youths betray thee!
S. J. B.
LI
MAIDEN'S CARES
O sleep! sweet sleep! in vain, in vain
I bid thee visit me:
The anxious thought disturbs my brain--
Whose shall the maiden be?
My mother says, "The goatherd, child!
The goatherd, child! for thee."
Nay, mother, nay! not he, not he;
That were no happiness for me:
He tracks the mountains steep and wild
Where rocks and dangers be.
O sleep! sweet sleep! in vain, in vain
I bid thee visit me:
The anxious thought disturbs my brain--
Whose shall the maiden be?
My mother says, "The shepherd, maid!
The shepherd, maid! for thee."
Nay, mother, nay! not he, not he;
That were no happiness for me:
He wanders through the distant glade
Where wolves and perils be.
O sleep! sweet sleep! in vain, in vain
I bid thee visit me:
The anxious thought disturbs my brain--
Whose shall the maiden be?
My mother says, "The tradesman, dear!
The tradesman, dear! for thee."
Nay, mother, nay! not he, not he;
That were no happiness for me:
He is a wanderer far and near,
His house no home may be.
O sleep! sweet sleep! in vain, in vain
I bid thee visit me:
The anxious thought disturbs my brain--
Whose shall the maiden be?
My mother says, "The tailor, then
The tailor, then, for thee!"
Nay, mother! nay; not he, not he!
That were no happiness for me:
The tailor's needle may be keen,
His children hungry be.
O sleep! sweet sleep! in vain, in vain
I bid thee visit me;
The anxious thought disturbs my brain--
Whose shall the maiden be?
My mother says,--"The peasant, take
The peasant, child! for thee."
Yes! mother, yes! in him I see
Both love and happiness for me;
For though his labouring hands are black,
The whitest bread eats he.
S. J. B.
LII
MOHAMMEDAN SONG
His breath is amber,--sharp his reed;
The hand which holds it, O! how white.
He writes fair talismans,--a creed,
For maidens doth the loved one write:
"Of him that will not have thee,--think not!
From him that fain would have thee, shrink not."
S. J. B.
LIII
MINE EVERYWHERE
"Come with me, thou charming maiden!
Be my love and come with me."
'Wherefore play with words so foolish?
That can never, never be;
I had rather in the tavern
Bear the golden cup, than ever,--
Ever promise to be thine.'
"I am the young tavern-keeper,
So thou wilt indeed be mine."
'Wherefore play with words so foolish?
No such fate will e'er befall;
In the coffee-house I'd rather
Serve, envelop'd in my shawl,
Rather than be thine at all.'
"But I am the coffee boiler,
Thee, my maiden, will I call."
'Wherefore play with words so foolish?
That can never, never be;
Rather o'er the field I'll wander,
Changed into a quail, than ever,
Ever give myself to thee.'
"But I am a vigorous sportsman,
And thou wilt belong to me."
'Play not, youth! with words so foolish,
That can never, never be;
Rather to a fish I'd change me,
Dive me deep beneath the sea,
Rather than belong to thee.'
"But I am the finest network,
Which into the sea I'll cast;
Mine thou art, and mine thou shalt be,--
Yes; thou must be mine at last;
Be it here, or be it there,
Mine thou must be everywhere."
S. J. B.
LIV
MAID AWAKING
Lovely maiden gather'd roses,
Sleep o'ertook her then;
Pass'd a youth and call'd the maiden,
Waked the maid again:
"Wake! O wake! thou lovely maiden,
Why art slumbering now?
All the rosy wreaths are fading,
Fading on thy brow.
He, thy heart's own love, will marry;
He will break his vow!"
'Let him marry, let him marry,
I shall not complain;
But the thunderbolt of heav'n
Shall destroy him then.'
S. J. B.
LV
MOTHER'S LOVE
On the balcony young Jovan sported,
While he sported, lo! it crash'd beneath him,
And he fell,--his right arm broke in falling!
Who shall find a surgeon for the sufferer?
Lo! the Vila[24] of the mountain sends one,
But the recompense he asks is heavy;
Her white hand demands he of the mother,--
Of the sister all her silken ringlets,--
Of the wife he asks her pearl-strung necklace.
Freely gave her hand young Jovan's mother,
Freely gave her silken hair his sister,
But his wife refus'd her pearly treasure:--
"Nay! I will not give my pearl-strung necklace,
For it was a present of my father."
Anger then incens'd the Mountain-Vila,
Into Jovan's wounds she pour'd her poison,
And he died,--Alas! for thee, poor mother!
Then began the melancholy cuckoos,[25]
Cuckoos then began their funeral dirges;
One pour'd out her mournful plaints unceasing,
One at morning mourn'd, and mourn'd at ev'ning,
And the third when'er sad thoughts came o'er her.
Tell me which is the unceasing mourner?
'Tis the sorrowing mother of young Jovan.
Which at morning mourns and late at evening?
'Tis the grieving sister of young Jovan.
Which when melancholy thoughts come o'er her?
'Tis the youthful wife,--the wife of Jovan.
S. J. B.
LVI
THE GREYBEARD
I heard young Falisava say:
"I'll have no ancient greybeard, nay!
A sprightly beardless youth for me."
An aged man the maiden heard,
He shaves his long and snowy beard,
And paints his chin like ebony:
To Falisava then he goes--
"My heart! my soul! my garden rose!
A beardless youth is come for thee."
And then she listen'd--they were wed--
And to the old man's home they sped.
Then twilight came, and evening's shade--
And said the old man to the maid:
"Sweet Falisava! maiden fair!
Our bed beside the stove prepare,
And the warm feather-mattress bear"--
The maiden heard--the maiden went,
And gather'd flowers of sweetest scent--
Of sweetest scent and fairest hue,
Which on the old man's bed she threw,
And like on a strong-wing'd eagle then
Flew to her father's home again.
S. J. B.
LVII
MOHAMMEDAN TALE
Who is mourning there in Glamodelec's fortress?
'Tis the Vila--'tis an angry serpent?
'Tis no Vila--'tis no angry serpent!
'Tis the maid Emina there lamenting--
There lamenting, for her woe is grievous!
Lo! the Ban[26] the maiden hath imprison'd--
Hath imprison'd her, and will baptize her;
But Emina never will be faithless--
From the white-wall'd tower will fling her rather.
Thus the unbelieving Ban address'd her:
"Unbelieving Ban! a moment tarry,
While I hasten to the upper story."
And she hasten'd to the upper story;
Look'd around her from the white-wall'd fortress:
In the distance saw her father's dwelling--
Saw the white school where she pass'd her childhood
"O my father's home! my poor heart's sorrow!
School of childhood! once that childhood's terror!
Many a day of weariness and sorrow
Did thy small-writ lessons give Emina."
Then she wrapp'd her snowy robes around her--
Thought not of the band that bound her tresses,
And she flung her from the fortress turret.
But her hair-band caught the open window--
From the window, ah she hung suspended--
Hung a week suspended from the window--
Then her hair gave away--and then the maiden
On the greensward fell.
The Christian heard it--
He, the Christian Ban, and hasten'd thither;
Oft and oft he kiss'd the dead Emina;
And he peacefully entom'd the maiden.
O'er her grave a chapel he erected,
And with golden apples he adorn'd it.
Ere a week had pass'd away, descended
On her tomb a beauteous light from heaven;
At her head a beauteous light was kindled;
At her feet another light shone sweetly;
And her aged mother saw and wonder'd
From her chain she took her knife, and plunged it--
Plunged it deep within her troubled bosom--
Fell, and died--O melancholy mother!
S. J. B.
LVIII
LOVE'S DIFFICULTIES
I loved her from her infancy,
Lado![27] 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!
S. J. B.
LIX
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 Radoje 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."
S. J. B.
LX
PLEDGES
The wind was with the roses playing:
To Ranko's tent it blew their leaves:
Milica, Ranko, there were staying,
And Ranko writes--Milica 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:
"Milica! 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."
S. J. B.
LXI
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.
S. J. B.
LXII
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!
S. J. B.
LXIII
MOHAMMEDAN SONG
I have piercing eyes--the eyes of falcons:
I am of undoubted noble lineage:
I can read the heart of Osman Aga:
I was ask'd by Osman Aga's mother:
"Cursed witch: and yet most lovely maiden!
Why with white and red dost paint thy visage?
Fascinate no longer Osman Aga!
I will speed me to the verdant forest,
Build me up of maple-trees a dwelling,
And lock up within it Osman Aga."
Then the maid replied to Osman's mother:
"Lady Anka! Osman Aga's mother--
I have falcon eyes--and eyes of devils:
With them I can ope thy ample dwelling--
With them visit, too, thy Osman Aga."
S. J. B.
LXIV
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;
Two jewels dark for eyes they gave;
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."
S. J. B.
LXV
MISFORTUNES
On the hill, the fir-tree hill,
Grows a tall fir-tree:
There a maiden, calm and still,
Sits delightedly.
To a youthful swain she pledges
Vows: "O come to me:
Lightly spring across the hedges:
Come--but slightly.
Come at eve--lest harm betide thee.
If any home thou seek,
In our quiet dwelling hide thee;
Not a whisper speak."
And he o'er the hedges sprung,
Lo! a twig he tore:
When the house-door ope he flung,
Noisy was the door.
When he enter'd in, there fell
Shelves upon the floor,
'Twas the broken china's knell--
O the luckless hour!
Then her mother comes afeard,
Trips and cuts her knee;
And her father burns his beard
In perplexity.
And the youth must quench the fire,
And the maiden must retire.
S. J. B.
LXVI
TIMIDITY
Lo! upon the mountain green
Stands a fir-tree tall and thin--
'Tis no fir-tree--none at all--
'Tis a maiden thin and tall.
Three long years the enamour'd one
Fed upon her eyes alone;
On the fourth, he sought the bliss
Of the maiden's primal kiss
"Why, thou witching maid! repel me--
Why with foot of scorn dost tread,
On my feet, my boots of red!
Why despise me, maiden! tell me."
"No, my friend, I will not tread
On thy feet, thy boots of red!
Come at evening--come and string
Pearls for me--and thou shalt fling
O'er me my embroider'd shawl.
We will go at morning's call
To the kolo--Friend! but thou
Must not touch the maiden now--
Know'st thou not that busy slander
Follows us wher'er we wander?
Evil tongues are ever talking;
Calumny abroad is walking
Know'st thou that a simple kiss
Ample food for slander is?
'Never did we kiss,' you'll say,
'Till last evening and to-day.'
Come at evening--come, my dear.
Sisters' eyes will watch thee here."
S. J. B.
LXVII
YOUTH ENAMOURED
"Where wert thou! Misho! yesterday?"
"O 'twas a happy day for me!
A lovely maiden cross'd my way
A maiden smiling lovelily
And those sweet smiles for me were meant;
I claimed her--mother answer'd, 'No!'
Would steal her--vain was the intent,
For many guardians watch'd her so.
There grows a verdant almond-tree
Before her house--its boughs I'll climb;
Wail like a cuckoo mournfully,
And swallow-like, at evening time,
Pour forth my woe in throbbings deep
And like a sorrowing widow sigh,
And like a youthful maiden weep.
So may her mother turn her eye,
Pitying my grief, her heart may move,
And she may give me her I love."
S. J. B.
LXVIII
BLACK EYES AND BLUE
I wish the happy time were nigh,
When youths are sold, that I might buy.
But for an azure-eyed Mlinar,[28]
I would not give a single dinar,
Though for a raven-black eyed youth,
A thousand golden coins, in truth.
Alas! alas! and is it true?
My own fair youth has eyes of blue;
Yes! they are blue--yet dear to me--
Will he forgive my levity?
Ye maidens! pray him to forgive me;
Nay! spare me now--and rather leave me
To tell him "I am yours"--and smile
In fond affection all the while.
S. J. B.
LXIX
THE WIDOW
Rose! O smile upon the youth no longer;
He in his impatience to be wedded,
Chose a widow for his years unsuited,
And wher'er she goes, where'er she tarries,
She is mourning for her ancient husband.
"O my husband! first and best possession!
Happy were the days we spent together!
Early we retired and late we waken'd
Thou didst wake me kissing my white forehead,
'Up, my heart! the sun is high in heaven,
And our aged mother is arisen.'"
S. J. B.
LXX
ALARMS
Fairest youths are here--but not the fairest!
Could I hear him now, or could I see him,--
Could I know if he be sick, or faithless!
Were he sick, my ears would rather hear it,
Than that he had loved another maiden.
Sickness may depart, and time restore him,--
If enamour'd,--never! never! never!
S. J. B.
LXXI
FOND WIFE
O! If I were a mountain streamlet,
I know where I would flow
I'd spring into the crystal Sava,
Where the gay vessels go,
That I might look upon my lover--
For fain my heart would know
If, when he holds the helm, he ever
Looks on my rose, and thinks
Of her who gave it;--if the nosegay
I made of sweetest pinks
Is faded yet, and if he wear it.
On Saturday I cull
To give him for a Sabbath present
All that is beautiful.
S. J. B.
LXXII
UNHAPPY BRIDE
The maiden gave the ring she wore
To him who gave it her before:
"O take the ring--for thou and thine
Are hated,--not by me--but mine--
Father and mother will not hear thee
Brother and sister both forswear thee
Yet, think not, youth,--I think not ill
Of her who needs must love thee still!
I am a poor unhappy maid,
Whose path the darkest clouds o'ershade,
I sowed sweet basil, and there grew
On that same spot the bitterest rue
And wormwood, that unholy flower,
I now alone my marriage dower;
The only flower which they shall wear
Who to the maiden's marriage comes,
When for my marriage altar there
The guests shall find the maiden's tomb."
S. J. B.
LXXIII
LAST PETITION
Upon her mother's bosom lay
Young Mira, and she pined away.
'Twas in her own maternal bed;
And thus the anxious mother said:--
"What ails thee, tell me, Mira, pray?"
"O ask me not, my mother dear!
I feel that death approaches near,
I shall not rise from this my bed;
But, mother mine! when I am dead--
O mother mine! call round me all
My playmates to my funeral;
And let the friends I loved receive
The little gifts that I shall leave;
Then let me sleep in peace beneath.--
There's one, my mother, I should grieve
To be divided from in death.
Then call around me priests divine,
And pious pilgrims, mother mine!
The forehead of thy dying daughter
Steep in the rose's fragrant water.
And, mother, let my forehead be
Dried with the rose-leaves from the tree;
And pillow not thy daughter's head,
O mother! with the common dead;
But let me have a quiet tomb
Adjacent to my Mirjo's home,
And near my Mirjo's nightly bed;
So when he wakes his thoughts shall dwell
With her he loved and loved so well."
S. J. B.
LXXIV
LOVE FOR A BROTHER
The sun sank down behind the gold-flower'd hill;
The warriors from the fight approach the shore:
There stood young George's wife, serene and still:
She counted all the heroes o'er and o'er,
And found not those she loved--though they were three:--
Her husband, George; her marriage friend, another
Who late had led the marriage revelry;
The third, her best-loved, her only brother.
Her husband he was dead; she rent her hair
For him--Her friend was gone,--for him she tore
Her cheeks--Her only brother was not there:
For him she pluck'd her eye-balls from their bed.
Her hair grew forth as lovely as before;
Upon her cheeks her former beauties spread;
But nothing could her perish'd sight restore:
Nought heals the heart that mourns a brother dead.
S. J. B.
LXXV
REBUKE
"Maiden! hast thou seen my steed?"
"Faithless one! not I, indeed!
But I heard that thou hadst tied him
To the mountain-maple tree;
When a stranger pass'd beside him,
Full of scorn and rage was he:
With his hoofs the ground he beat;
Of his master's guilt he knew.
Not one maiden did he cheat.
No; that master cheated two:
One has borne a wretched child;
One with grief and shame is wild."
S. J. B.
LXXVI
MAN'S FAITH
Say! dost thou remember when under the vine,
Thy tears fell in streams on the breast of thy maid;
When thy heart burst in joy as I own'd thee for mine?
Alas! for the maiden whose peace is betray'd
By the tears and the vows of a falsehood like thine!
As the changeable sky--now o'erclouded, now bright,
Is the faith of thy race--their language to-day,
"I will wed thee to-morrow, my love and my light!"
To-morrow--"Let's wait till the harvest's away."
The harvest is ended, the winter is nigh
And another maid dwells in their hearts and their eye.
S. J. B.
LXXVII
MAIDEN'S AFFECTION
"Black is the night--an outcast lad
Is wandering in our village, mother!
Thy daughter's heart is very sad,
Sad even to death! He has no home:
O give him ours, he has no other,
And bid the lad no longer roam!"
"Nay! daughter, let this outcast stray,
He is a proud and city youth;
Will ask for wine at break of day,
And costly meats at eve, forsooth,
And for his city-tutor'd head
Will want a soft and stately bed."
"O mother! In God's name divine,
Give the poor lad a shelter now:
My eyes shall serve instead of wine,
For costly meats my maiden brow.
My neck shall be his honey comb.
His bed the dewy grass shall be,
And heaven his stately canopy.
His head shall rest upon my arm.
O mother! give the youth a home,
And shelter, shelter him from harm."
S. J. B.
LXXVIII
MARRIAGE SONGS
The Marriage Leader:
"Make ready! make ready,"
To his sister the youth is repeating;
"Make ready my steed for the wedding,
O sister! the young Doge[29] is waiting.
I'm bid to the wedding, I'm summon'd to guide
To the wedding the maiden--the Doge's young bride."
The approaching bridegroom:
What is shining on the verdant mountain?
Sun--or moon--that shines so brightly,
'Tis not sun, or moon that shines so brightly,
'Tis the bridegroom hasting to the marriage.
Parting of the bride:
Sweetest of maidens! O be still,
Be silent--prithee weep not now
Thy mother she will weep--wilt fill
Her sorrowing eyes with tears, for thou
Wilt leave thy cherish'd home ere long:
And when thy young companions go
To the fresh stream, amidst the throng
She'll seek thee--will she find thee! No!
Departure of the wedding guests:
O thou young bridegroom, thou rose in its beauty,
Lo! we have brought thee a rosemary branch,
And if the rosemary branch should decay,
Thine will the shame be, the sorrow be ours.
Scatter the rosemary leaves o'er thy way;
Let not destruction disparage its flowers.
To the bride, when the marriage hood is first put on:
Maid from a distant forest tree,
A verdant leaf is blown to thee;
And that green leaf has fixed it now,
In the green garland on thy brow:
The garland green, that we have bound
Maiden! thy auburn ringlets round:
O no! it is no leaf, that we
Have braided in a wreath for thee;
'Tis the white hood that thou must wear,
The token of domestic care:
Thou hast no mother now--another,
A stranger must be called thy mother;
And sister-love thy heart must share,
With one who was not born thy brother.
At the marriage:
An apple tree at Ranko's door was growing,
Its trunk was silver, golden were its branches;
Its branches golden and of pearls its foliage,
Its leaves were pearls, and all its apple corals.
And many dovelets, on the branches seated,
Coo'd in their fond affection to each other;
Coo'd loudly, and they pluck'd the pearls--one only
One, only one was silent, one was silent--
It coo'd not, pluck'd no pearls from off the branches:
That one was terrified by Ranko's mother:
"Begone--grey dovelet! thou art an intruder!
Was not the apple-tree by Ranko planted?
By Ranko planted, and by Ranko watered,
That it might shade the guests at Ranko's marriage,
Shade all his guests beneath its joyous branches."
S. J. B.
LXXIX
HEROES SERVE
Upon the silent Danube's shore,
When ev'ning wastes, 'tis sweet to see
'Their golden wine cups flowing o'er';
Our heroes in their revelry.
A youthful beauty pours the wine,
And each will pledge a cup to her;
And each of charms that seem divine,
Would fain become a worshipper.
"Nay! heroes, nay!" the virgin cried,
"My service--not my love--I give:
For one alone--for none beside:
For one alone I love and live."
S. J. B.
LXXX
YOUTH AND AGE