After Death

After Death

By Djura Jakšić

When a knife shall my heart tear,
O’er me a gory sword shall clink,
Sweet maidens, my roses fair,
Thou shalt not into grief sink!

Say not: “It’s here that rests
Of our love the wilted sheaf!”
Blame not this soil blessed,
Hush the cajoling hum of grief!

Waste not pretty roses, pray,
To deck my eternal home grand!
Celebrate me not-suffice to say,
“He was faithful to his land”.

Translation from the Serbian by:
Ljiljana Parović

Posle smrti

Noževi kad mi srce podele,
Nad grobom zvekne krvavi mač,
Slatke devojke, ružice bele,
Neću da čujem vaš gorki plač!

Nemojte reći: „Ovde počiva
Ljubavi naše uveli struk!“
Ne kun’te zemlju, nije vam kriva —
Stišajte jada laskavi zvuk!

Nemojte trošit ruže ubave,
Kiteći njima moj večit dom!
Recite samo: „Dosta je slave —
Veran je bio narodu svom“.

Djura Jaksic

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