Banat
03-22-2006, 01:14 AM
"The ballads of Serbia occupy a high position, perhaps the highest position, in the ballad literature
of Europe. They would, if well known, astonish Europe... In them breathes a clear and inborn poetry
such as can scarcely be found among any other modern people."
-- Jacob Grimm
=====
Serbian Epic Poems: The Kosovo Cycle (http://www.rastko.org.yu/knjizevnost/usmena/battle_of_kosovo.html)
The Battle of Kosovo cycle of heroic ballads is generally considered the finest work of Serbian folk poetry. Commemorating the Serbian Empire's defeat at the hands of the Turks in the late fourteenth century, these poems and fragments of poems have been known for centuries in Eastern Europe. With the appearance of the collections of Serbian folk poems by Vuk Stefanovic Karadzic, the brilliance of the poetry in the Kosovo and related cycles of ballads was affirmed by poets and critics as deeply influential as Goethe, Jacob Grimm, Adam Mickiewicz and Alexander Pushkin. Although translations into English have been attempted before, few of them, as Charles Simic notes in his preface, have been persuasive.
[...]
My ballad of choice from the above link:
The Death of the Mother of the Yugovichi
Dear God! How great the wonder of it all-
When the army fell on level Kosovo
With all the Yugovichi in its ranks-
Nine brave brothers and the tenth, their father!
The mother of the Yugovichi prays
That God will give her quick eyes of a falcon
And a swan's white wings that she might fly
Out over Kosovo, that level plain,
And see the Yugovichi- all nine brothers
And their father, noble old Yug Bogdan.
And God Almighty grants her what she asks:
Eyes of a falcon, white wings of a swan-
And out she flies over level Kosovo
And finds the Yugovichi lying slain;
All nine brothers, and the tenth, Yug Bogdan.
Driven in the ground nine lances stand
With nine gray falcons perching on their ends;
Beside the lances nine brave horses wait,
And near the horses nine grim rampant lions.
She hears the nine horses neigh, the nine lions roar,
The nine gray falcons scream and croak and caw,
And still her heart is cold as any stone
And no tears rise at all, and no tears fall.
Then she takes with her the nine brave horses,
And she takes with her the nine rampant lions,
And she takes with her the nine gray falcons-
Slowly leads them off to her white castle.
From far away her sons' nine wives could see her-
And out they walk before the castle tower:
And as the mother hears the nine widows weeping
She hears the nine horses neigh, the nine lions roar,
The nine gray falcons scream and croak and caw.
And still her heart is cold as any stone
And no tears rise at all, and no tears fall.
When it is very late, when it is midnight,
Damian's gray horse begins to scream;
The mother goes to Damian's wife and asks:
"O dearest daughter, my son's beloved wife,
Why does Damian's stallion scream like this?
Is he hungry for the choicest wheat?
Does he thirst for cool Zvechan waters?"
And the wife of Damian answers her:
"O my mother, mother of my Damian,
The stallion does not scream for choicest wheat,
Neither does he thirst for Zvechan waters;
Damian used to feed him oats till midnight,
And at midnight he would ride the roads;
The horse is grieving for his noble master-
That he did not bring him here upon his back."
And still the mother's heart is cold as any stone,
And no tears rise at all, and no tears fall.
When dawn has broken early in the morning,
Two black ravens fly up to the castle,
Their wings all red and bloody to the shoulders
And their beaks all foaming with white foam.
They carry there a warrior's severed hand
With a wedding ring upon its finger
And they drop it in the mother's lap.
The mother of the Yugovichi takes the hand
And stares at it, turns it in her lap,
And then she calls to Damian's faithful wife:
"O my daughter, beloved wife of Damian,
Do you know whose severed hand this is?"
And the wife of Damian answers her-
"O dearest Lady, mother of my husband,
This is the hand of Damian, your son;
I know because I recognize this ring
Which is the ring I gave him at our wedding."
Again the mother takes the severed hand
And stares at it, turns it in her lap:
Softly then she speaks to that white hand.
"O dear dead hand, O dear unripe green apple,
Where did you grow, where were you torn away?
Dear God! you grew upon this mother's lap
And you were torn away upon the plain of Kosovo!"
And now the mother can endure no more
And so her heart swells and breaks with sorrow
For the Yugovichi- all nine brothers
And the tenth, old Yug Bogdan.
of Europe. They would, if well known, astonish Europe... In them breathes a clear and inborn poetry
such as can scarcely be found among any other modern people."
-- Jacob Grimm
=====
Serbian Epic Poems: The Kosovo Cycle (http://www.rastko.org.yu/knjizevnost/usmena/battle_of_kosovo.html)
The Battle of Kosovo cycle of heroic ballads is generally considered the finest work of Serbian folk poetry. Commemorating the Serbian Empire's defeat at the hands of the Turks in the late fourteenth century, these poems and fragments of poems have been known for centuries in Eastern Europe. With the appearance of the collections of Serbian folk poems by Vuk Stefanovic Karadzic, the brilliance of the poetry in the Kosovo and related cycles of ballads was affirmed by poets and critics as deeply influential as Goethe, Jacob Grimm, Adam Mickiewicz and Alexander Pushkin. Although translations into English have been attempted before, few of them, as Charles Simic notes in his preface, have been persuasive.
[...]
My ballad of choice from the above link:
The Death of the Mother of the Yugovichi
Dear God! How great the wonder of it all-
When the army fell on level Kosovo
With all the Yugovichi in its ranks-
Nine brave brothers and the tenth, their father!
The mother of the Yugovichi prays
That God will give her quick eyes of a falcon
And a swan's white wings that she might fly
Out over Kosovo, that level plain,
And see the Yugovichi- all nine brothers
And their father, noble old Yug Bogdan.
And God Almighty grants her what she asks:
Eyes of a falcon, white wings of a swan-
And out she flies over level Kosovo
And finds the Yugovichi lying slain;
All nine brothers, and the tenth, Yug Bogdan.
Driven in the ground nine lances stand
With nine gray falcons perching on their ends;
Beside the lances nine brave horses wait,
And near the horses nine grim rampant lions.
She hears the nine horses neigh, the nine lions roar,
The nine gray falcons scream and croak and caw,
And still her heart is cold as any stone
And no tears rise at all, and no tears fall.
Then she takes with her the nine brave horses,
And she takes with her the nine rampant lions,
And she takes with her the nine gray falcons-
Slowly leads them off to her white castle.
From far away her sons' nine wives could see her-
And out they walk before the castle tower:
And as the mother hears the nine widows weeping
She hears the nine horses neigh, the nine lions roar,
The nine gray falcons scream and croak and caw.
And still her heart is cold as any stone
And no tears rise at all, and no tears fall.
When it is very late, when it is midnight,
Damian's gray horse begins to scream;
The mother goes to Damian's wife and asks:
"O dearest daughter, my son's beloved wife,
Why does Damian's stallion scream like this?
Is he hungry for the choicest wheat?
Does he thirst for cool Zvechan waters?"
And the wife of Damian answers her:
"O my mother, mother of my Damian,
The stallion does not scream for choicest wheat,
Neither does he thirst for Zvechan waters;
Damian used to feed him oats till midnight,
And at midnight he would ride the roads;
The horse is grieving for his noble master-
That he did not bring him here upon his back."
And still the mother's heart is cold as any stone,
And no tears rise at all, and no tears fall.
When dawn has broken early in the morning,
Two black ravens fly up to the castle,
Their wings all red and bloody to the shoulders
And their beaks all foaming with white foam.
They carry there a warrior's severed hand
With a wedding ring upon its finger
And they drop it in the mother's lap.
The mother of the Yugovichi takes the hand
And stares at it, turns it in her lap,
And then she calls to Damian's faithful wife:
"O my daughter, beloved wife of Damian,
Do you know whose severed hand this is?"
And the wife of Damian answers her-
"O dearest Lady, mother of my husband,
This is the hand of Damian, your son;
I know because I recognize this ring
Which is the ring I gave him at our wedding."
Again the mother takes the severed hand
And stares at it, turns it in her lap:
Softly then she speaks to that white hand.
"O dear dead hand, O dear unripe green apple,
Where did you grow, where were you torn away?
Dear God! you grew upon this mother's lap
And you were torn away upon the plain of Kosovo!"
And now the mother can endure no more
And so her heart swells and breaks with sorrow
For the Yugovichi- all nine brothers
And the tenth, old Yug Bogdan.