Spring

Spring

By Aleksa Šantić

Darling, let not a sleep come o’er thee tonight,
Grant not, dear, to thy heart a sweet respite!
When o’er our river the moon pours its light,
And on the ground fall first dewdrops bright,

A young spring will be born! As everywhere
The sweet fragrance of lilacs the air will fill;
Soft snowflakes will fall from branches still
Into our brook winding thro’ the garden there.

Lado will sneak in Mostar, our dormant town:
On each window he’ll shed snowflakes down,
To waken all the hearts that love and ache…

So, my dear, let not a sleep come over thee!
Come! May thou first rose in our garden be,
And sweetly smell in my heart till daybreak!

Translated from the Serbian by:
Ljiljana Parović

PROLJEĆE

Nemoj, draga, noćas da te san obrva
I da sklopiš oči na dušeku mekom!
Kada mjesec sine nad našom rijekom
I na zemlju pane tiha rosa prva,

Rodiće se mlado proljeće! I svuda
Prosuće se miris plavih jorgovana;
I pahulje snježne padaće sa grana
U naš bistri potok što baštom krivuda.

Uzviće se Ljeljo nad našim Mostarom,
I svaki će prozor zasuti beharom,
Da probudi srca što ljube i gore…

Zato nemoj, draga, da te san obrva!
Dođi, i u bašti budi ruža prva,
I na mome srcu miriši do zore!

woods, Mountains, Meadow, Flowers

A Poem of Love

A Poem of Love

By Milan Rakić

A bunch of blooming lilacs is humming low,
And the night is all aglitter in the starlight,
Longing for a lavish love God did bestow.
While the smiling moon is shining bright,
A bunch of blooming lilacs is humming low.

One such passionate and sensual night,
Tristan was awaited by the fair Isolde,
The wailing graveyards are roused quite
Remembering the gone-by days of gold.
One such passionate and sensual night,

Carrying with him a ladder of silk made,
An ancient knight, full of hope, unafraid,
Rushed to the tower of his faithful maid,
And sang to her a passionate serenade.
An ancient knight, full of hope, unafraid!

Hum, o, night of the bygone age, hum!
In my heart I cherish late men so dear.
Pageants white from a grave now come,
And with me they love, yearn, and fear!
Hum, o, night of the bygone age, hum,

Passionate and eager, she is waiting
For me like Isolde awaited Tristan, too.
Anxiously she harks the far stamping,
As the smiling moon shines in the night
And the fragrant breeze is blowing light
A bunch of blooming lilacs through!

Translation from the Serbian by:
Ljiljana Parović

ЉУБАВНА ПЕСМА

Шуме бокори цветног јоргована,
И ноћ звездана трепери, и жуди
За бујну љубав, свету богом дана.
Док месечина насмејана блуди,
Шуме бокори цветног јоргована.

У таку ноћ је пожудну и страсну
Изолда некад чекала Тристана.
Буде се гробља уз кукњаву гласну
И сећају се прохујалих дана.
У таку ноћ је пожудну и страсну,

Носећи собом лествице од свиле,
Старински витез, пун вере и наде,
Хитао замку своје верне Виле,
И певао јој страсне серенаде.
Старински витез, пун вере и наде!

Шуми, о ноћи прохујалог доба!
У срцу носим некадање људе.
Поворке беле дижу се из гроба,
И са мном, љубе, чезну, стрепе, жуде!
Шуми, о ноћи прохујалог доба,

Страсно и жудно! Она мене чека
Ко некад плава Изолда Тристана.
Стрепи, и слуша топот из далека,
Док месечина насмејана сија
И ћув мирисни заносно ћарлија
У бокорима цветног јоргована!

Flieder in einem Vase, Öl auf Leinwand Lizenzfreie Bilder - 21990164

Like a Fairy-tale

Like a Fairy-tale

By Milan Rakić

I want a night when the moon is slumbery,
Tearful and lean, with no colour, all still,
When earth and mead smell nostalgically
Of quince kept for months on the sill;

When everything is sad and falls apart
And it seems as if ailing children cried
When utterly dissolves my longing heart,
When muffled sighs echo far and wide;

Then, as your lips descend over mine,
I wish the two of us may jointly whine…
I want a night, as a bride’s veil white,
Clear, bright and all lit by moonbeam,

To bless your body and things with quite
A foreign form, when all things seem
Like a fairy-tale, that it’s not real at all,
That all things blend with fair moonlight,

And that all things softly fade and fall,
And that all things vanish from sight,
Then, as your lips descend over me,
I wish the two of us too may cease to be.

Translation from the Serbian by:
Ljiljana Parović

Kao бајка

Hтео бих једну ноћ кад месец куња,
Плачеван, кржљав, без сјаја и боје,
А земља има сетан мирис дуња
Што месецима у прозору стоје;

И све да буде тужно, све да буде
Као да свуда јече болна деца,
Растапају се чежње као груде,
И све кроз сутон пригушено јеца;

Па кад на мене падну усне твоје,
Да зајецамо и ми, обадвоје…
Хтео бих једну ноћ венчано белу,
Провидну, светлу, сву у месечини,

Да неземаљски изглед дâ твом телу,
И свакој ствари, и да ми се чини.
Ко бајка да је, да то није јава,
Да с месечином све се стапа сада,

И неосетно губи се и пада,
И све нестаје, и све ишчезава,
Па кад на мене падну усне твоје,
да ишчезнемо и ми, обадвоје…

Fairy Tales Kids Wallpapers | HD Wallpapers

In the Night

In the Night

By Vojislav Ilić

The day hides behind the yonder hill,
And the shadow of night bends low;
As if dreaming of eternity, the wood still
Throbs deep…Awake, I plod slow

To its shade the narrow lane down,
Harking the hum thro’ the gloom there,
Beholding the bloom-adorned ground,
And insatiably drinking the odorous air.

Before me winds and runs the stream,
Like a radiant streak, clear and bright,
On young twigs it shoots the gleam,
On colourful flowers and leaves light.

All around me only deep silence reigns,
A pale moon hangs the boughs behind,
I carry on, but where to? Which lanes?
Ignorant is the heart, tacit is the mind!

The land and men in repose are blest,
I can clearly feel the breathing of night;
But this heart of mine, but my chest,
Know not of sweet quietude the might.

Yet, I would roam so till the daybreak,
And drift softly in the still of the night.
Harking the branches touch and quake,
And faintly echo a secret hum of delight.

Translation from the Serbian by:
Ljiljana Parović

U noći

Za daljna brda beli dan se skriva,
I tavne noći povija se sen;
Dubrava nema, kô da večnost sniva,
Potmulo huji… U zasenak njen

Po uskoj stazi ja se budan krećem,
I slušam šumor kroz duboki mrak,
I gledam zemlju, okićenu cvećem,
I žudno pijem mirišljavi zrak.

Preda mnom potok vije se i krade
Kô sjajna pruga, svetao i čist,
I baca iskre na grančice mlade,
Na šaren cvetak, na zeleni list.

Uokrug mene tišina je samo,
Kroz brsno granje bledi mesec sja
Ja bludim dalje… Al’ kuda? i kamo?
Nit razum kaže, niti srce zna!

Počiva zemlja, počivaju ljudi,
Osećam čisto kako diše noć;
Al’ moje srce, ali moje grudi,
spokojstva slatkog ne poznaju moć.

Pa ipak, ja bih do zorice rane,
Bludio tako po tišini toj.
Slušajuć kako dotiču se grane,
I tiho šire tajni šapat svoj…

night

Sorrow

Sorrow

By Milan Rakić

In a bright night, near me,
A secret cry echoes thru the air
Like a sigh of all the galaxy,
A shrill of anguish and despair.

The moment vibrates softly
As of doleful strings a pluck,
The moment glides ominously
Like a flock of birds of bad luck.

Who so wails? Living men?
Or my love, some old woe?
Or other men’s hopes then?
But, what do you care, oh!

I cry too when others suffer,
When their joys waste away,
My own suffering is no tougher,
Their pain fills me with dismay.

Cry, my darling, while we still
Have some tears to weep
Over other men’s many an ill
And our miseries so deep!

Oh, how pleasing it is to cry,
Irrationally, powerfully! Apart
To tear our sad lives and sigh
At every beating of a poor heart,

In solitude, in despair,
As the lilac and jasmine croon,
In the grip of a night so fair,
‘neath a good-natured moon!

Translation from the Serbian by:
Ljiljana Parović

Tuga

U vedroj noći, pokraj mene,
čuje se časom vapaj tajni
ko uzdah cele vaseljene,
patnički uzvik, krik očajni.

Čas neosetno, tiho struji
ko jedan trepet tužnih žica,
čas strahovito kobno huji
ko jato crnih zloslutnica.

Ko tuži tako? Živi ljudi?
Ili moja ljubav, jadi stari?
Il tuđe nade, tuđe žudi?
O, šta to mari, šta to mari!

Ja plačem kad i drugi strada,
kad tuđa sreca ko cvet vene,
za mene nema tuđih jada:
Što boli drugog, boli mene.

Plači mi, dušo, kad u nama
još ima suza da se redom
prospu nad tuđim nesrećama
i neiscrpnom našom bedom!

O, kake slasti, da se rida
bezumno, silno! Da se grca,
i mučenički život kida
pri svakom kucanju bednog srca,

U očajanju, u samoći,
međ jorgovanom i jasminom,
u zagrljaju vedre noći,
pod dobroćudnom mesečinom!

jasmine-paintings