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  1. #1
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    Default Serbian Epic Poems

    For people which are intrested in serbian language,culture,history and tradition...Serbian Epic Poems


    Fragment

    (...)
    Sultan Murad fell on level Kosovo!
    And as he fell he wrote these few brief words
    Sent them to the castle at white Krushevats
    To rest on Lazar's knees in his fine city.
    "Lazar! Tsar! Lord of all the Serbs,
    What has never been can never be:
    One land only but two masters,
    A single people who are doubly taxed;
    We cannot both together rule here,
    Therefore send me every tax and key,
    Golden keys that unlock all the cities,
    All the taxes for these seven years,
    And if you do not send these things at once,
    Bring your armies down to level Kosovo
    And we'll divide the country with our swords ..."
    When these words have come to Lazar's eyes
    He sees them, weeping cruel tears
    (...)
    Όλα είναι εδώ όπως ήταν παλιά
    αγκαλιές και φιλιά όλα είναι εδώ
    Όλα είναι εδώ κι είναι τόσα πολλά
    που μιλούν στην καρδιά όλα είναι εδώ

  2. #2
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    The Downfall of the Kingdom of Serbia

    Yes, and from Jerusalem, O from that holy place,
    A great gray bird, a taloned falcon flew!
    And in his beak he held a gentle swallow.
    But wait! it's not a falcon, this gray bird,
    It is a saint, Holy Saint Eliyah:
    And he bears with him no gentle swallow
    But a letter from the Blessed Mother.
    He brings it to the Tsar at Kosovo
    And places it upon his trembling knees.
    And thus the letter itself speaks to the Tsar:
    'Lazar! Lazar! Tsar of noble family,
    Which kingdom is it that you long for most?
    Will you choose a heavenly crown today?
    Or will you choose an earthly crown?
    If you choose the earth then saddle horses,
    Tighten girths- have your knights put on
    Their swords and make a dawn attack against
    The Turks: your enemy will be destroyed.
    But if you choose the skies then build a church-
    O, not of stone but out of silk and velvet-
    Gather up your forces take the bread and wine,
    For all shall perish, perish utterly,
    And you, O Tsar, shall perish with them."
    And when the Tsar has heard those holy words
    He meditates, thinks every kind of thought:
    "O, Dearest God, what shall I do, and how?
    Shall I choose the earth? Shall I choose
    The skies? And if I choose the kingdom,
    If I choose an earthly kingdom now,
    Earthly kingdoms are such passing things-
    A heavenly kingdom, raging in the dark, endures eternally."
    And Lazarus chose heaven, not the earth,
    And tailored there a church at Kosovo-
    O not of stone but out of silk and velvet-
    And he summoned there the Patriarch of Serbia,
    Summoned there the lordly twelve high bishops:
    And he gathered up his forces, had them
    Take with him the saving bread and wine.
    As soon as Lazarus has given out
    His orders, then across the level plain
    Of Kosovo pour all the Turks.
    Όλα είναι εδώ όπως ήταν παλιά
    αγκαλιές και φιλιά όλα είναι εδώ
    Όλα είναι εδώ κι είναι τόσα πολλά
    που μιλούν στην καρδιά όλα είναι εδώ

  3. #3
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    Supper in Krushevats

    The Serbian Tsar will celebrate his Slava
    Here in Krushevats, a well-protected fortress.
    All the high nobility and all
    The lesser lords he seats around the table-
    All will honor now his holy patron saint.
    On his right he places old Yug Bogdan
    And next to him the nine brave Yugovichi.
    On his left Vuk Brankovich sits down,
    And then the other lords according to their rank.
    Across from Lazarus is Captain Milosh;
    And next to him are these two noble knights:
    The first: Ivan Kosanchich,
    And the second: Lord Milan Toplitsa.
    Now the Tsar lifts up the golden goblet,
    Lazarus thus questions all his lords:
    "To whom, I ask you, shall make this toast?
    If I must toast old age - to old Yug Bogdan then,
    If I must honor eminence - to Brankovich;
    If I must trust emotion - to the nine brave Yugovichi,
    Sons of old Yug Bogdan, brothers of my queen;
    If I must bow to beauty - to Ivan Kosanchich;
    If I decide by height - to tall Milan Toplitsa;
    But if heroic courage must decide me
    I shall drink to noble Captain Milosh.
    Yes! to Milosh- to nobody else at all.
    I'll only toast the health of Milosh Obilich.
    Hail, Cousin! friend of mine and traitor!
    First of all my friend- but finally my betrayer.
    Tomorrow you'll betray me on the field of Kosovo,
    Escaping to the Turkish Sultan, Murad!
    So to your health, dear Milosh, drink it up,
    And keep the golden goblet to remember Lazarus."
    Then up on nimble legs springs Milosh Obilich
    And to the dark earth bows himself and says:
    "My thanks to you O glorious Lazarus,
    My thanks for that fine toast and for your handsome gift,
    But I can't thank you for those words you spoke.
    Let me die if I should lie to you!
    I have never been unfaithful to my Tsar-
    Never have I been and never shall I be-
    And I am sworn to die for you at Kosovo,
    For you and for the Christian faith.
    But Treason, Lazarus, sits beside you now-
    The traitor sips his wine right up your sleeve.
    It's Brankovich, Vuk Brankovich I say!
    And when on Vitus-day tomorrow morning
    We make our dawn attack upon the Blackbirds' Field
    We'll see right there at bloody Kosovo
    Who is loyal to you and who is not!
    I swear to you in God Almighty's Name
    That I shall go at dawn to Kosovo
    And slaughter like a pig the Turkish Sultan,
    Put my foot upon his throat.
    And then if God & good luck aid me I'll return
    For Brankovich & bind him to my lance,
    Bind him like the wool around a distaff.
    I'll drag him like that back as far as Kosovo!"
    Όλα είναι εδώ όπως ήταν παλιά
    αγκαλιές και φιλιά όλα είναι εδώ
    Όλα είναι εδώ κι είναι τόσα πολλά
    που μιλούν στην καρδιά όλα είναι εδώ

  4. #4
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    Captain Milosh and Ivan Kosanchich

    And Milosh says to Ivan Kosanchich:
    "My brother, have you seen the Turkish army?
    Is it vast? and do we dare attack them?
    Can we conquer Murad here at Kosovo?"
    And Ivan Kosanchich answers him like this:
    "My noble friend, O Milosh Obilich!
    I have spied upon the Turkish army
    And I tell you it is vast and strong.
    If all the Serbs were changed to grains of salt
    We could not even salt their wretched dinners!
    For fully fifteen days I've walked among those hoards
    And found there no beginning and no end.
    From Mt. Mramor straight to Suvi Javor,
    From Javor, brother, on to Sazlija,
    From Sazlija across the Chemer Bridge,
    From Chemer Bridge on to the town of Zvechan,
    From Zvechan, Milosh, to the edge of Chechan,
    And from Chechan to the mountain peaks-
    Everywhere the Turks line up in battle gear:
    Horse is next to horse and warriors all are massed.
    Their lances are like trunks of forest trees;
    Their banners are like endless sailing clouds
    And all their tents are like the drifting snows.
    Ah! and if from heaven a heavy rain should fall
    Then not a single drop would ever touch the earth
    For all the Turks and horses standing on it.
    Turkish forces occupy the field before us
    Stretching to the rivers Lab and Sitnitsa.
    Sultan Murad's fallen on the level plain of Mazgit!"
    Then Milosh looks at Kosanchich and asks:
    "My brother, tell me next where I can find
    The tent of mighty Sultan Murad For
    For I have sworn to noble Lazarus
    To slaughter like a pig this foreign Tsar
    And put my foot upon his squealing throat."
    And Ivan Kosanchich replies like this:
    "O Milosh Obilich, I think you must be mad!
    Where do you suppose that tent is placed
    But in the middle of the vast encampment-
    And even if you had a falcon's wings
    And flew down from the clear blue skies above
    Your wings would never fly you out again alive!"
    Then Milosh thus implores Ivan to promise:
    "O Ivan Kosanchich my dearest brother-
    Not in blood, but so much like a brother-
    Swear to me not to tell the Tzar
    What you have seen and said to me just now.
    Lazarus would suffer anguish over it;
    The army under him would grow afraid.
    We must both of us say this instead:
    Though the Turkish army is not small,
    We can easily do battle with them
    And defeat them . . . This is what we've seen:
    Not an army made of knights and warriors
    But of weary pilgrims, old and crippled hodjas,
    Artisans, and skinny adolescents
    Who have never even tasted blood
    And only come to Kosovo to see the world
    Or earn a crust of bread, a cup of dark red wine . . .
    And if there is a real Turkish army,
    That one's fallen sick from dysentery and has lost its way.
    Far from here they **** upon the earth
    In fear of us ... and even all their horses
    Suffer illnesses, ruined by distemper, laminitis,
    Spreading fatal hoof and mouth disease
    To captured cattle and to captured sheep."
    Όλα είναι εδώ όπως ήταν παλιά
    αγκαλιές και φιλιά όλα είναι εδώ
    Όλα είναι εδώ κι είναι τόσα πολλά
    που μιλούν στην καρδιά όλα είναι εδώ

  5. #5
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    Musich Stefan

    In Maydan where they mine the purest silver
    Musich Stefan drinks the dark red wine
    That's brought to him by Vaistina his servant
    To a table in his lordly castle.
    When he has satisfied his thirst he says:
    "Vaistina, my dearest friend and servant,
    Drink and eat while I lie down to rest
    And then go walk before our lordly castle:
    Gaze into the clear transparent skies
    And tell me: is the bright moon in the west?
    Is the morning star rising in the east?
    Has the hour arrived for us to journey
    To the level plain of Kosovo
    And join forces with the noble Tsar?
    My son, you will remember that grave oath-
    Lazarus exhorted us like this:
    'Whoever is a Serb, of Serbian blood,
    Whoever shares with me this heritage,
    And he comes not to fight at Kosovo,
    May he never have the progeny
    His heart desires, neither son nor daughter;
    Beneath his hand let nothing decent grow-
    Neither purple grapes nor wholesome wheat;
    Let him rust away like dripping iron
    Until his name shall be extinguished!'"
    Then Musich Stefan rests upon soft pillows
    While Vaistina his friend and loyal servant
    Eats his meal, drinks his share of wine,
    And goes to walk before the lordly castle.
    He looks into the clear transparent skies
    And sees the moon- bright and in the west;
    The morning star is rising in the east.
    The hour has thus arrived for them to journey
    To the level plain of Kosovo
    And join forces with the noble Tsar.
    Now Vaistina takes horses from the stable-
    Battle-horses, one for each of them-
    And saddles them, arrays them beautifully.
    Then he carries out a noble silken banner
    All embroidered with twelve golden crosses
    And a brilliant icon of Saint John,
    Holy Patron Saint of Musich Stefan.
    He puts it down before the castle keep
    And climbs the stairs to wake his master up.
    Now as Vaistina ascends those stairs
    The wife of Musich Stefan stops him there,
    Embracing him. Imploringly she says:
    ''O Servant Vaistina, in Jesus' Name!
    By God Almighty and by Holy John,
    Till now you were my good & faithful friend.
    If you are still my brother then I beg you:
    Do not awaken now your sleeping master.
    Pity me; I've had an evil dream.
    I dreamed I saw a flock of doves in flight
    with two gray falcons flying on before them,
    Flying right before this very castle.
    They flew to Kosovo and landed there
    In Sultan Murad's cruel vast encampment-
    But never did I see them rise again.
    This, my brother, is a prophecy:
    I fear that all of you are going to die."
    Then Vaistina the servant speaks like this:
    "Dearest sister, honored wife of Stefan!
    I cannot, my sister, be unfaithful
    To the master of this noble castle;
    You are not bound as he and I are bound
    By Lazarus's bitter exhortation:
    I tell you truly- this is what he said:
    'Whoever is a Serb, of Serbian blood,
    Whoever shares with me this heritage,
    And he comes not to fight at Kosovo,
    May he never have the progeny
    His heart desires, neither son nor daughter;
    Beneath his hand let nothing decent grow-
    Neither purple grapes nor wholesome wheat;
    Let him rust away like dripping iron
    Until his name shall be extinguished!'
    Thus I cannot, sister, be unfaithful
    To the master of this noble castle."
    Then Vaistina goes up and wakes his master
    Saying this: "The time is now upon us."
    And Musich Stefan rises on strong legs
    And washes slowly, puts on lordly garments.
    He belts around his waist a well-forged saber,
    Pours himself a glass of dark red wine
    And toasts his holy patron saint,
    And then a quick and providential journey,
    And last of all the saving cross of Jesus.
    All this in his castle at his banquet table-
    Where Stefan will not eat or drink again.
    Then they walk before the lordly castle,
    Mount their ready chestnut battle-horses
    And unfurl the cross-embroidered banner.
    Drums and trumpets break the morning silence-
    Off they ride to battle in the name of God!
    When the brilliant dawn has cast its light upon them
    Over Kosovo, that flat and graceful plain,
    There suddenly appears a lovely maiden
    Bearing in her hands two empty golden goblets.
    Beneath her arm she has a noble helmet
    Made of wound white silk with feathers intertwined
    Which are worked in silver at their ends
    And sewn with precious threads of yellow gold-
    And all embroidered at the top with pearls.
    Then Musich Stefan speaks to her like this:
    "May God Almighty bless you and be with you-
    But where can you have found that noble helmet?
    Were you yourself upon the field of battle?
    Give it to me, dear one, for a moment,
    For I will know at once which hero wore it.
    I promise by my providential journey
    That I will never injure or betray you."
    The lovely maiden answered him and said:
    "Greetings to you, warrior of the Tsar!
    I was not myself upon the field of battle
    But my mother woke me early to get water
    From the river Sitnitsa that flows nearby
    And when I got there- what a flood I saw!
    Of muddy water, horses, dying heroes,
    Turkish calpacs, fezes, bloody turbans,
    And the helmets worn by noble Serbs
    Made of wound white silk with feathers intertwined.
    I saw this helmet floating near the bank
    And waded out a bit to reach it there.
    I have at home a little younger brother
    And I wanted him to have it for a present.
    Besides, I'm young myself; I like the feathers on it."
    She gives the helmet to the mounted knight.
    As soon as Stefan has it in his hands
    He recognizes it and starts to weep;
    Tears flow down his stern & noble face.
    He slaps his side so fiercely that he breaks
    A golden cuff link joining his right sleeves
    And tears the velvet of his trouser leg.
    "May God in Heaven help me and protect me!
    Now the curse of Lazar surely falls!"
    And he returns the helmet to the girl
    And reaches in his pocket with his hand
    And gives three golden ducats to her, saying:
    "Take them, dear one, lovely Maid of Kosovo,
    For I am going into battle now
    To fight the Turks in Jesus' Holy Name.
    If God allows me to return alive
    I'll have for you a better gift by far-
    But if, my sister, I should die in battle,
    Remember me by these three golden ducats."
    Then they spurred their horses into battle
    Across the flooding muddy river Sitnitsa
    And rode into the camp of Sultan Murad.
    Musich Stefan fought and killed three pashas,
    But when he met the fourth that warrior smote him-
    And there he died beside his Servant Vaistina
    And with his army of twelve thousand souls.
    Great Tsar Lazar also perished on that day
    And with him died a good and ancient Empire-
    With him died the Kingdom of this Earth.
    Όλα είναι εδώ όπως ήταν παλιά
    αγκαλιές και φιλιά όλα είναι εδώ
    Όλα είναι εδώ κι είναι τόσα πολλά
    που μιλούν στην καρδιά όλα είναι εδώ

  6. #6
    Senior Member sandra's Avatar
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    Tsar Lazar and Tsaritsa Militsa

    Now when at Krushevats the Tsar is camped
    And takes his supper on the eve of battle
    Militsa his Queen implores him thus-
    "O Lazar, Golden Crown of Serbia,
    You ride tomorrow out to Kosovo
    And take away your servants & your knights,
    You leave me no one at the castle, Sire,
    Who'd ride out with a letter to the field
    Of Kosovo and bring an answer back
    You take away with you my nine dear brothers,
    All the Yugovichi ride with you
    I ask you this leave but one behind
    Leave me just one brother here to swear by."
    And Lazarus thus speaks to her and says
    "My Lady Militsa, my dear Tsaritsa-
    Which brother is it you would like for me
    To leave with you in this white castle tower?"
    And she:- "Give me Boshko Yugovich!"
    And he, noble Prince of all the Serbs.
    "My Lady Militsa, my dear Tsaritsa,
    Tomorrow when the white day brightly dawns,
    When the day dawns, the sun bright in the east,
    And when the portals of the town are opened,
    Go and stand beside those city gates
    For there will pass the army in its ranks
    And all the horsemen with their battle-lances
    Boshko Yugovich will lead them all
    And carry high the cross-emblazoned banner
    Give him all my blessings and say this.
    That he shall give the flag to someone else
    And stay with you in this white castle tower "
    When dawn has broken early in the morning
    And the portals of the town are opened
    Out she walks, Lazarus's queen,
    And goes to stand beside the city gate
    Where all the army passes by in ranks
    Out before the warriors with their lances
    Comes her brother, Boshko Yugovich,
    Riding in his noble golden armor
    On his golden-harnessed battle stallion
    Holding high the cross-emblazoned banner
    Which envelops him, my brothers, to the waist.
    On the staff there is a golden apple,
    And on the apple golden crosses stand
    From which there hang several golden tassels
    Dangling in the breeze about his shoulders.
    Now Tsaritsa Militsa goes up to him
    And takes his horse's bridle in her hand.
    She puts her arms around her brother's neck
    And thus she softly speaks to him and says:
    "O my brother, Boshko Yugovich,
    Lazarus has given you to me
    And tells you not to go to Kosovo;
    He sends his blessing to you and he says:
    To give your flag to anyone you like
    And stay with me at white-walled Krushevats
    That I will have a brother here to swear by."
    Boshko Yugovich then speaks like this:
    "Go back, my sister, to your castle tower
    It is not for me to go with you
    Or give away this banner that I hold
    Even if the Tsar would give me Krushevats;
    What would all my comrades say of me?
    Look upon this coward Yugovich!
    The one who dares not go to Kosovo
    And spill his blood for Jesus' Holy Cross
    And for his faith to die upon that plain."
    With that he spurs his horse on through the gate.
    And next rides out Yug Bogdan, Boshko's father,
    And behind him seven Yugovichi;
    One by one she stops them and implores them
    But not a one would even look at her.
    She waits in misery beside the portals
    Until her brother Voin comes riding past
    Leading close behind him Lazar's horses
    All caparisoned with golden trappings.
    She stops his chestnut, takes it by the bridle,
    And then she throws her arms around her brother.
    Thus she softly speaks to him and says:
    "O Voin Yugovich, my dearest brother,
    Lazar gives you to me for a present!
    He sends his blessing to you and he says:
    Give to someone else those noble horses
    And stay with me at white-walled Krushevats
    That I will have a brother here to swear by."
    Her brother Voin thus answers her and says:
    "Go back, my sister, to your castle tower-
    For as a warrior I may not return,
    Nor would I leave these horses of the Tsar
    Even if I knew that I would perish.
    I ride out to the level field of Kosovo
    To spill my blood for Jesus' Holy Cross
    And die with all my brothers for the faith."
    With that he spurs his horse on through the gate.
    When Lady Militsa has seen all this
    She falls down fainting on the cold hard stone
    And lies unconscious, still as if in death.
    Glorious Lazar, Prince of all the Serbs,
    Is next to pass, and when he sees his queen
    He weeps, and tears flow down his cheeks.
    He looks around him turns to left and right,
    And calls out to his servant Goluban:
    "Goluban, my dear and faithful servant,
    Dismount at once from your white horse
    And take my lady in your strong white arms
    And carry her into the narrow tower.
    I free you before God from your grave oath.
    Do not ride out to fight at Kosovo
    But stay with her inside the castle tower."
    When Goluban has heard his master's words
    He weeps, and tears flow down his cheeks;
    As ordered he dismounts from his white horse
    And lifts the lady up in his white arms
    And carries her into the castle tower.
    But yet his heart torments him: he must go
    And ride to battle on the Blackbirds' Field.
    Turning back at once to his white horse
    He mounts and rides to level Kosovo.
    As in the east the morning brightly dawns
    Two black ravens fly to Krushevats
    From Kosovo, that wide and level plain,
    And land upon the narrow castle tower,
    The castle tower of Lazarus the Tsar.
    The first bird caws, the second starts to talk:
    "Is this the tower of Glorious Lazarus,
    Or is there no one home in this white castle?"
    Only Lady Militsa is there to hear,
    And she alone walks out before the tower.
    Thus she speaks and asks the two black birds:
    "Ravens! in the name of God Almighty
    Tell me where you come from this bright morning.
    Could it be you come from Kosovo?
    Have you seen two mighty armies there?
    And did those armies join in furious combat?
    Great black birds: which army won the battle?"
    Then the ravens answered, both together:
    'In the name of God, Tsaritsa Militsa,
    We come today from level Kosovo,
    And we have seen two mighty armies there;
    Those armies met in battle yesterday
    And both the Tsar and Sultan have been slain.
    Among the Turks some few are left alive,
    But fewer still among the Serbs yet breathe,
    And all of them have cruel bleeding wounds."
    Even as the ravens speak those words
    The Servant Milutin comes riding up:
    His own right arm he bears in his left hand;
    Bleeding from his seventeen grave wounds,
    He reins his sweating blood-drenched war-horse in.
    Lady Militsa thus questions him:
    "What happened to you Servant Milutin?
    Did you abandon Lazar on the field?"
    And Servant Milutin replies to her:
    "Help me down, dear lady, from my horse,
    And bathe with cool water all my wounds;
    Quench my thirst with red reviving wine;
    These evil wounds will be the end of me."
    The Lady Militsa takes him gently down
    And bathes his wounds with cool water there,
    And gives him dark red wine to quench his thirst.
    When she has thus attended to his needs
    She questions him again & softly asks:
    "What happened, Milutin, at Kosovo?
    The noble Tsar & old Yug Bogdan- dead?
    The Yugovichi, nine of them, all dead?
    Vuk Brankovich and great Lord Milosh- dead?
    And Strahinya the Ban beside them all?"
    The wounded servant answers her and says:
    "All remain, my lady, on the field
    Where the glorious Tsar has bravely perished.
    There are many broken lances there
    Belonging both to Turks and noble Serbs-
    But many more of ours have broken, Lady,
    Than the Turks' defending Lazarus,
    Fighting for our glorious Lord and Master.
    And old Yug Bogdan, Lady, lost his life
    At the beginning, in the dawn attack
    Along with his eight sons, the Yugovichi,
    Where brother fought by brother to the end
    As long as he could strike and cut;
    But Boshko Yugovich remains there still,
    His cross-emblazoned banner waving high,
    Where he chases Turks in frightened herds
    As a hunting falcon chases doves.
    And Strahinya died too where blood rose to the knees
    While Milosh, Lady, lost his noble life
    Fighting near the river Sitnitsa
    Where many dying Turks lie all around.
    But Milosh killed the Turkish Sultan, Murad,
    And slaughtered many Turkish soldiers with him.
    May God Almighty bless the one who bore him!
    He leaves immortal fame to all the Serbs
    To be forever told in song and story
    As long as Kosovo and human kind endure.
    But ask me nothing of Vuk Brankovich!
    May the one who gave him birth be damned!
    Cursed be his tribe and his posterity,
    For he betrayed the Tsar at Kosovo,
    And led away twelve thousand men, my Lady,
    Led his knights away with him from Kosovo."
    Όλα είναι εδώ όπως ήταν παλιά
    αγκαλιές και φιλιά όλα είναι εδώ
    Όλα είναι εδώ κι είναι τόσα πολλά
    που μιλούν στην καρδιά όλα είναι εδώ

  7. #7
    Senior Member sandra's Avatar
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    Tsaritsa Militsa and Vladeta the Voyvoda

    Tsaritsa Militsa went out to walk
    Before the castle at white Krushevats,
    And with her there were her two daughters:
    Vukosava and the pretty Mara.
    Then up to them came Vladeta the Voyvoda
    Riding on a bay a charging war-horse;
    Vladeta had forced the horse into a sweat
    And it was bathed all over in white foam.
    Tsaritsa Militsa spoke to him and said:
    "In the name of God good knight of the Tsar,
    Why have you so forced your horse to sweat?
    Aren't you coming from the field of Kosovo?
    Did you see great Lazar riding there?
    Did you see my master and your own?"
    And Vladeta responded in his turn:
    "In the name of God Tsaritsa Militsa,
    I have ridden from the level field,
    But I fear I did not see the Tsar.
    I saw his war-horse chased by many Turks,
    And thus I think our noble Lord is dead."
    When Tsaritsa Militsa had heard that news
    She wept and tears ran down her face.
    And then she looked at Vladeta and asked:
    "Tell me more good knight of the Tsar,
    When you were on that wide and level plain,
    Did you see my father and my noble brothers there?
    Did you see the Yugovichi and Yug Bogdan?"
    And Vladeta thus answered her and said:
    "As I rode out and over level Kosovo
    I saw the Yugovichi, nine of them, your brothers,
    And I saw your father, old Yug Bogdan, there:
    They were in the midst of all the fighting
    And their arms were bloody clear up to their shoulders,
    Their tempered swords clear up to the hilts;
    How their arms grew weary though and sank
    Struggling with the Turks out on that field!"
    Again the wife of Lazar spoke to him and said:
    "Voyvoda stay with me and wait!
    Did you see the husbands of my daughters?
    Did you see Vuk Brankovich and Milosh?"
    And Vladeta the Voyvoda replied:
    "I have gone all over level Kosovo,
    And I have seen what I have seen.
    I did see Captain Milosh, Milosh Obilich,
    And he was standing on that level field;
    I saw him lean upon his battle lance
    And saw that it was broken
    And the Turks were swarming on him
    Until now, I think, he surely must have died.
    And did I see Vuk Brankovich at all?
    I did not see him- let the sun not see him either!
    For he betrayed the Tsar out on that field,
    The noble Tsar, your master and my own."
    Όλα είναι εδώ όπως ήταν παλιά
    αγκαλιές και φιλιά όλα είναι εδώ
    Όλα είναι εδώ κι είναι τόσα πολλά
    που μιλούν στην καρδιά όλα είναι εδώ

  8. #8
    Senior Member sandra's Avatar
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    The Kosovo Maiden

    On a Sunday early in the morning
    The Maid of Kosovo awoke to brilliant sun
    And rolled her sleeves above her snow-white elbows;
    On her back she carries warm, white bread,
    And in her hands she bears two golden goblets,
    one of water, one of dark red wine.
    Seeking out the plain of Kosovo,
    She walks upon the field of slaughter there
    Where noble Lazarus, the Tsar, was slain,
    And turns the warriors over in their blood;
    Should one still breathe she bathes him with the water
    And offers him, as if in sacrament,
    The dark red wine to drink, the bread to eat.
    At length she comes to Pavle Orlovich,
    Standard-bearer of his lord the Tsar,
    And finds him still alive, though torn and maimed:
    His right hand and his left leg are cut off
    And his handsome chest is crushed and broken
    So that she can see his lungs inside.
    She moves him from the pool of blood
    And bathes his wounds with clear and cool water;
    She offers him, as if in sacrament,
    The dark red wine to drink, the bread to eat.
    When she has thus attended to his needs,
    Pavle Orlovich revives and speaks:
    "Maid of Kosovo, my dearest sister,
    What misfortune leads you to this plain
    To turn the warriors over in their blood?
    Whom can you be looking for out here?
    Have you lost a brother or a nephew?
    Have you lost perhaps an aging father?"
    And the Maid of Kosovo replies:
    "O my brother, O my unknown hero!
    It is not for someone of my blood
    I'm searching: not an aging father;
    Neither is it for a brother or a nephew.
    Do you remember, brave and unknown warrior,
    When Lazar gave communion to his army
    With the help of thirty holy monks
    Near the lovely church of Samodrezha
    And it took them twenty days to do it?
    All the Serbian army took communion.
    At the end there came three warrior Lords:
    The first was captain Milosh Obilich,
    The next was Ivan Kosanchich,
    And the last the warrior Milan Toplitsa.
    It happened that I stood beside the gates
    As Milosh Obilich passed grandly by-
    There is no fairer warrior in this world-
    He trailed his saber there upon the stones
    And on his head he wore a helmet made
    Of wound white silk with feathers intertwined
    A brightly colored cloak hung down his back
    And round his neck he wore a silken scarf.
    As he passed he turned and looked at me
    And offered me his brightly colored cloak,
    Took it off and gave it to me, saying:
    'Maiden, take this brightly colored cloak
    By which I hope you will remember me-
    This cloak by which you can recall my name:
    Dear soul, I'm going out to risk my life
    In battle for the great Tsar Lazarus;
    Pray God, my love, that I return alive,
    And that good fortune shortly shall be yours:
    I will give you as a bride to Milan,
    Milan Toplitsa, my sworn blood-brother,
    Noble Milan who became my brother
    Before God Almighty and Saint John:
    To him I'll give you as a virgin bride.'
    After him rode Ivan Kosanchich-
    There is no fairer warrior in this world.
    He trailed his saber there upon the stones
    And on his head he wore a helmet made
    Of wound white silk with feathers intertwined,
    A brightly colored cloak hung down his back
    While round his neck he wore a silken scarf
    And on his hand he had a golden ring.
    As he passed he turned and looked at me
    And offered me the glowing golden ring,
    Took it off and gave it to me saying:
    'Maiden, take this golden wedding ring
    By which I hope you will remember me-
    This ring by which you can recall my name:
    Dear soul, I'm going out to risk my life
    In battle for the great Tsar Lazarus;
    Pray God, my love, that I return alive,
    And that good fortune shortly shall be yours:
    I will give you as a bride to Milan,
    Milan Toplitsa, my sworn blood-brother,
    Noble Milan who became my brother
    Before God Almighty and Saint John:
    I will be the best man at your wedding.'
    After him rode Milan Toplitsa-
    There is no fairer warrior in this world.
    He trailed his saber there upon the stones
    And on his head he wore a helmet made
    Of wound white silk with feathers intertwined,
    A brightly colored cloak hung down his back
    While round his neck he wore a silken scarf
    And on his wrist he had a golden torque
    As he passed he turned and looked at me
    And offered me the shining golden torque,
    Took it off and gave it to me, saying:
    'Maiden, take this shining golden torque
    By which I hope you will remember me-
    This torque by which you can recall my name:
    Dear soul, I'm going out to risk my life
    In battle for the great Tsar Lazarus;
    Pray God, my love, that I return alive,
    And that good fortune shortly shall be yours
    And I will take you for my faithful wife.'
    With that the warrior Lords all rode away-
    And so I search upon this field of slaughter."
    Pavle Orlovich then spoke and said:
    "O my dearest sister, Maid of Kosovo!
    Do you see, dear soul, those battle-lances
    Where they're piled the highest over there?
    That is where the blood of heroes flowed
    In pools higher than the flanks of horses,
    Higher even than the horses' saddles-
    right up to the riders' silken waistbands.
    Those you came to find have fallen there;
    Go back, maiden, to your white-walled dwelling.
    Do not stain your skirt and sleeves with blood."
    When she has heard the wounded hero's words
    She weeps, and tears flow down her pale face;
    She leaves the plain of Kosovo and walks
    To her white village wailing, crying out:-
    "O pity, pity! I am cursed so utterly
    That if I touched a greenly leafing tree
    it would dry and wither, blighted and defiled."
    Όλα είναι εδώ όπως ήταν παλιά
    αγκαλιές και φιλιά όλα είναι εδώ
    Όλα είναι εδώ κι είναι τόσα πολλά
    που μιλούν στην καρδιά όλα είναι εδώ

  9. #9
    Senior Member sandra's Avatar
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    For me the most beautifull poem...

    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 horses neigh, the 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 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 widows weeping
    She hears the horses neigh, the 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 of them, Yug Bogdan.
    Όλα είναι εδώ όπως ήταν παλιά
    αγκαλιές και φιλιά όλα είναι εδώ
    Όλα είναι εδώ κι είναι τόσα πολλά
    που μιλούν στην καρδιά όλα είναι εδώ

  10. #10
    Senior Member sandra's Avatar
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    The Miracle of Lazar's Head

    When they cut off Lazar's head upon the Blackbirds' Field
    Not a single Serb was there to see it
    But it happened that a Turkish boy saw,
    A slave, the son of one who had been made
    Herself a slave, a Serbian mother
    Thus the boy spoke having seen it all:
    "Oh have pity, brothers; Oh have pity, Turks.
    Here before us lies a sovereign's noble head!
    In God's name it would be a sin
    If it were pecked at by the eagles and the crows
    Or trampled on by horses and by heroes."
    He took the head of holy Lazar then
    And covered it and put it in a sack
    And carried it until he found a spring
    And put the head into the waters there
    For forty years the head lay in that spring
    While the body lay upon the field at Kosovo
    It was not pecked by eagles or by crows.
    It was not trampled on by horses or by heroes.
    For that, Dear Lord, all thanks be to Thee.
    Then one day there came from lovely Skoplje
    A group of youthful carters who conveyed
    Bulgarians and Greeks to Vidin and to Nish
    And stopped to spend the night at Kosovo.
    They made a dinner on that level field,
    And ate and then grew thirsty afterwards.
    They lit the candle in their lantern then
    And went to look for waters of a spring.
    Then it was that one young carter said:
    "See the brilliant moonlight in the water there."
    The second carter answered him:
    "My brother, I don't think it's moonlight,"
    While the third was silent, saying nothing,
    Turning in his silence to the east,
    And all at once calling out to God,
    The one true God, and holy sainted Nicholas:
    "Help me God! Help me holy Nicholas!"
    He plunged into the waters of the spring
    And lifted out into the quiet air
    The holy head of Lazar, Tsar of all the Serbs.
    He placed it on the green grass by the spring
    And turned to get some water in a jug
    So the thirsty carters all could drink.
    When next they looked upon the fertile earth
    The head no longer rested on the grass
    But rolled out all alone across the level field,
    The holy head moving towards the body
    To join it the way it was before.
    When in the morning bright day dawned
    The three young carters sent the tidings off-
    A message to the holy Christian priests
    Which summoned some three hundred of them there
    And summoned bishops, twelve of them,
    And summoned four old patriarchs
    From Pech, Constantinople, and Jerusalem.
    They all put on their holy vestments then,
    Put on their heads the tall peaked caps of monks,
    And took into their hands the ancient chronicles,
    And read out prayers, and kept long vigils there
    For three long days and three dark nights,
    Neither sitting down nor seeking any rest,
    Neither lying down nor ever sleeping,
    But questioning the saint and asking him
    To which great church or monastery he would go:
    Whether Opovo or Krushedol,
    Whether Jaska or Beshenovo,
    Whether Rakovats or Shishatovats
    Whether Djivsha or Kuvezhdin
    Or whether he would rather go to Macedonia.
    But the saint would go to none of these,
    And wished to stay at lovely Ravanitsa,
    The church he had himself endowed
    Which rose below the mountain of Kuchaj-
    His own church, the one he built himself,
    Built with his own bread, with his own treasure,
    And not with tears wept by wretched subjects,
    In those years he walked upon this earth.
    Όλα είναι εδώ όπως ήταν παλιά
    αγκαλιές και φιλιά όλα είναι εδώ
    Όλα είναι εδώ κι είναι τόσα πολλά
    που μιλούν στην καρδιά όλα είναι εδώ

  11. #11
    Senior Member sandra's Avatar
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    "Everyone in the West who has known these poems has proclaimed them to be literature of the highest order which ought to be known better." (Charles Simic)
    Όλα είναι εδώ όπως ήταν παλιά
    αγκαλιές και φιλιά όλα είναι εδώ
    Όλα είναι εδώ κι είναι τόσα πολλά
    που μιλούν στην καρδιά όλα είναι εδώ

  12. #12
    Senior Member sandra's Avatar
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    THE MIRACLE OF ST. NICHOLAS


    DEAR God, great marvel is it unseen wonders to behold!
    In St. Paul’s white monastery were tables of the gold,
    And all the saints in order were seated. At the head
    Was the Thunderer Elijah; where the midst of the board was spread,
    Were Máriya and Sava; at the bottom of the board
    Were Holy Friday and Sunday. To the glory of Christ the Lord
    To drink, and begin the festival, St. Nicholas stood up,
    But he fell asleep in a little and in slumber dropped the cup.
    It fell on the golden table, but broke not, nor spilled the wine.Elijah then rebuked him:
    “Nicholas, brother mine,

    We have not slumbered, brother, though we drank cool wine ere now,
    Nor dropped cups from our fingers. Why dost thou slumber so?”Said St. Nicholas:
    “Elijah the Thunderer, let be!

    I closed my eyes for a little and a strange dream came to me.


    There were three hundred cáloyers1 set sail on the blue sea,
    And they bore sacrificial gifts to the famous Holy Height
    Of Athos; yellow wax they bore and also incense white.
    The wind arose among the clouds; the waves of the sea it smote,
    To drown three hundred cáloyers. But they cried as from one throat:
    ‘Aid us, God and St. Nicholas! Come, wherever thou mayst be!’
    And I aided them and the cáloyers came home again from sea;
    Safe home came the three hundred, and O their hearts were light!
    They bore the sacrificial gifts unto the Holy Height
    Of Athos; yellow wax they bore and white incense as well.
    At that time did I slumber, and the cup from my fingers fell.”
    Όλα είναι εδώ όπως ήταν παλιά
    αγκαλιές και φιλιά όλα είναι εδώ
    Όλα είναι εδώ κι είναι τόσα πολλά
    που μιλούν στην καρδιά όλα είναι εδώ

  13. #13
    ina
    Guest

    Oh, Sandra, great, I've always wanted to find this in English. Thanks!

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