Jephimia

Jephimia

By Milan Rakić

Jephimia, the wife of Uglješa, the despot,
And a nobleman’s daughter, in a sanctuary
All secluded, with pious zeal and no respite,
Embroiders a silk shroud for the monastery.

All around her, the blood of people is shed,
Empires fall and crumbles the world whole,
She, ever alone, embroiders in silk thread
And gold the deep anguish of her noble soul.

Centuries have gone by, in oblivion they rest,
But this people is still groaning as before.
And it seems that even in the time of yore
Our hearts used to beat in your gentle chest.

And at the time of the nation’s doleful fall,
When in the horizon there is no light frail,
You and your humble abode I clearly recall,
O despotress of Serbia with a nun’s veil!

Then I feel that just as once she used to do,
Over our calamity which ever direr grows,
Over the flame enveloped by darkness, too,
The old Black Lady is bemoaning our woes…

Translated from the Serbian by:
Ljiljana Parović

JEFIMIJA

Jefimija, ćerka gospodara Drame,
I žene despota Uglješe, u miru,
Daleko od sveta, puna verske tame,
Veze svilen pokrov za dar manastiru.

Pokraj nje se krve narodi i guše,
Propadaju carstva, svet vaskolik cvili,
Ona, večno sama, na zlatu i svili
Veze strašne bole otmene joj duše.

Vekovi su prošli i zaborav pada,
A još ovaj narod kao nekad grca,
I meni se čini da su naša srca
U grudima tvojim kucala još tada,

I u mučne čase narodnoga sloma,
Kad svetlosti nema na vidiku celom,
Ja se sećam tebe i tvojega doma,
Despotice srpska s kaluđerskim velom!

I osećam tada da, ko nekad, sama,
Nad nesrećnom kobi što steže sve jače,
Nad plamenom koji obuhvata tama,
Stara Crna Gospa zapeva i plače…

Advertisements