To Miss L

To Miss L

By Djura Jakšić

The wise men bore a gift to the King
Of Judea – one of gold and myrrh;
A gift upon my king I too now confer:
Here, take this poem of love that I bring!

When I am with thou, I’m blessed,
Thou art my one and only, my love,
May fate unleash thunder from above,
May a cloud in my sky have no rest:

When thou smilest-the sun blesses me;
When thou speakst-truths are holy;
Where thou standst-God is above me!

Then, why should my heart fear,
Why’d I fret if predicament drew near,
When by thou, I by God stand, my dear?

Translation from the Serbian by:
Ljiljana Parović

Gospođici L

Mudraci su prinosili dara:
Smirnu, zlato, caru judejskome;
I ja darak caru nosim svome:
Evo, primi-pesmu iz nedara!

Kod tebe se meni raj otvara,
Ti si jedna, draga srcu mome,
Pa nek sudba gromke prska grome,
Neka oblak moje nebo šara:

Ti s’ osmehneš-meni sunce sine;
Ti prozboriš-svete su istine;
Ti gde stojiš-Bog je sa visine!

Pa našto mi strah srcu da svojim,
Zašto da se preke zgode bojim,
Kad, spram tebe, pored Boga stojim?

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