The Violin

The Violin

By Vladislav Petković-Dis

At the time when thus disappear
Pain and hope, youth and bloom,
And bells of despair, fate and fear
Toll to herald death impending soon

My love, and all desires of mine,
My sky and garden of lilies my –
At such hours do we entwine
And weep then the violin and I.

At the time when a wind of sleep
Shall drift away silently over me,
And slumber and sounds deep
And tunes of a pleasant reality

Shall surround me; then my eye
Sees no more the land of spleen: I
Feel that my spirit rises up high,
And then we sing, the violin and I.

Grim and jolly I march my life thru
To the shores, old, dark and bright,
Where bleakness beauty does imbue,
Where doom lives and dwells no spite.

Where dwells no spite. Thrilled, oft
I go from where sorrowful valleys lie
Somewhere far, to the sounds soft:
There happy we are, the violin and I.

Translation from the Serbian by:
Ljiljana Parović

Violina

U trenucima kada tako klone
I bol i nada, i mladost i cveće,
Kad strah i očaj i sudbina zvone
Samrt, koja se neumitno kreće

Na moju ljubav, na sve želje moje,
Na moje nebo, moju baštu krina —
U tim časima nađu se nas dvoje,
I tad plačemo ja i violina.

U trenucima kada vetar muka
Ode nečujno preko moje glave,
I pojave se san, dubine zvuka
I melodijâ — tad prijatne jave

Opkole mene, i tad moje oko
Ne vidi više predeo od splina:
Ja se osećam podignut visoko,
I tad pevamo ja i violina.

Mračan i vedar ja idem životom
Do starih, crnih i svetlih obala,
Gde diše pustoš i mir sa lepotom,
Gde propast živi i gde nema zala.

Gde nema zala. Sa zanosom nekim
Ja često idem iz tužnih dolina
Negde, daleko, sa zvucima mekim,
I tu smo srećni ja i violina.

Still Life w Violin Gris

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