'Marina' by Andrej Sládkovič (1-100) (English translation - red text)
Ja sladké túžby, túžby po kráse spievam peknotou nadšený, a v tomto duše mojej ohlase svet môj je celý zavrený; z výsosti Tatier ona mi svieti, ona mi z ohňov nebeských letí, ona mi svety pohýna; ona mi kýva zo sto životov: No centrom, živlom, nebom, jednotou krás mojich moja Marína!
Sweet desires, desires for love
I'm singing, with beauty enthused, and within this response of my very soul
The whole world of mine is enclosed;
From the heights of the Tatras, she casts the light,
She flies out of the heavenly fires,
She has been moving my worlds;
She's been waving towards me from hundreds of lives:
But the centre, the element, the heaven, the unity
of all my beauties is her – my Marina!
2
Ako vy, Tatry, keď oblak zlatý na hory svoje hodíte: tak ona duchom svojím mi šatí tône života úsvite. Ako vy tamhor’, božie plamene, svetiel ste žriedla, fakle, korene: ona blesk myšlienky mojej! — Ako vy, večné svetov zákony, harmónij božích čarovné tóny: tak tá mne os, zenit, kolej!
As you, the Tatras, when upon mountains
you cast your golden cloud:
my very pools of dawning of life
- that's what her spirits shrouds
As you, the Divine Flames up above
for lights you're sources, torches roots:
she is the very flash of my thought! — As you, the Eternal Laws of the Universe,
of Divine Harmonies magical tones:
she's my axis, my zenith, my rail!
3
Jestli sa city moje rozlejú po srdciach v Tatrách žijúcich; jestli ohlasy moje zavejú kradmo do časov budúcich: rodáci mojej duše, krajiny! objímte obraz mojej Maríny ľúbosťou svätých predmetov; toho, čo spieva krásy dejiny, nejali Lady rozmaríny, on ľúbi ľúbosť všesvetov.
Should my feelings pour
over the hearts living in the Tatras;
Should the echoes of mine be
stealthily blown into future times:
natives of my soul, my country!
Embrace the picture of my Marina
with love for sacred reliquia;
He, who's been singing the history of beauty,
was not caught by the rosemaries of Lada,
he loves the beauty of the Universes. 4
Krása je modla, ktorú rád vzýva sám ten, čo tvorí čudesá, na ňu sa s bradou odvislou díva rab z divých brehov Gangesa: Tam sa ti zjaví v Madony zrakoch, tam v rozváľaných nebom oblakoch, tam ti znie v Záboja spevoch, tam ti ju stvorí dlátko Canovy, tam blýska z hrsti Paromovi, tam búri v morských výlevoch!
Love is an idol gladly worshipped
by the one creating wonders
Also a slave on the wild banks of Ganges
Is watching it, his beard hanging down:
There she appears in the eyes of Madonna,
there, in the clouds scattered in the sky,
There it sounds in the hymns of Záboj,
There it is created by Canova's chisel,
There it flashes from Parom's fist
There she rages in the outpours of the sea
5
Nespievaj potom krásy velebu, keď sa raz ku nej rozženieš, zapri najvyššiu srdca potrebu, so svetom svojím skamenieš! Skamenieš? Ba nie! keď anjel devy nezdúchne z teba zemskosti plevy, čo vzývaš nad okruch chleba! — Nie! keď ťa sláva tá neočarí, čo svitá z mojej Maríny tvári: Znivočíš aj svet aj seba!
Do not sing about praising the beauty,
when you once start rushing towards it, Deny the highest need of your heart, and you and your world will turn into stone! Turn into stone? No, no! Should the angel of the maid
not blow the earthly chaff off you, that you've been praising higher than a slice of bread! — No! Should the fame not astonish you, that shines from my Marina's face: You will destroy both the world and yourself!
6
Ohlasov týchto zvon neodkliaty zo slona tvorí komára, hlasov mohutných ohlas až piaty, žobrák na prahu mocnára! Ako keď vetrík v hradbách Devína v šume slabučkom deje spomína, ktoré má hromom hrmievať: tak spevy tieto boja sa sveta, že im svedomie slabé rozmetá, ale — nemožno nespievať!
The bell of those echoes, not yet unspelled
makes an elephant out of a mosquito,
the fifth echo of mighty voices, a beggar on the threshold of a sovereign!
As the wind around the walls of Devín
reminds, with a soft hiss, of events
he should be reminding with a thunder:
these hymns are so afraid of the world,
that it will scatter their weak consciousness,
but still — impossible not to sing! 7
Z oblakov? Z veže zvoní hodina: Čo zvoní? Nie pohrab smutný? Čo zvoní? Či k poctám Hospodina? Čo zvoní? Požiar ukrutný? — Čas zvoní? Volá bližšie deň súdny, v ktorom zanikne svet svetov bludný. — Nuž zvoň! až hlas tvoj pokonný zabije sa v bralách večnosti, a v hlasoch mrúcich konečnosti časov na pohrab zazvoní! —
From the clouds? From the tower tolls the bell:
For whom it tolls? For someone's sad funeral?
For whom it tolls? To praise the Gospodin?
For whom it tolls? To warn agains a fierce fire? —
The time tolls? Calling closer the Judgment Day,
in which the delusional world of the worlds will perish. —
Just toll! Until your last voice
is killed on the rocks of Eternity,
and the dying voices will toll
for the funeral of the end of times! —
8
Dolinou tmavou pokoj si chodí; pokoj smrť je, tma smrti stín: Príroda spí, nebom sa brodí duch, blahého života syn: Večerná, smutná hodina zvoní, a dieťa hodín v spánok sa kloní, ale večný nemretia syn z očí smrteľných spanie vyháňa, a vo večného zorách svitania lieta svätým poľom vidín. —
Calmness is wandering through a dark valley;
Calmness is Death, darkness the shadow of the Death:
The nature is sleeping, and through the Heavens
flounders the Spirit, the son of happy life:
A nightly, sad hour tolls, and the child of the times falls into sleep,
but the eternal son of non-dying
casts the sleep out of the mortal eyes, and in the eternal dawn of the afterglow
flies through the holy field of visions. —
9
Tajdite, noci! svet mi odstrite, svet môj jasný haní mraky! Slzu ostatnú bárs vycedíte, slepé ste vy, moje zraky! — Čo tie tmy kryjú? Tône osudov; čo tajné zrakom, Rodina bludov; no, ležte! Nad vás vysoko, v svetlá tie svetiel, bleskov zákony, a nad prírody mŕtvej opony vzlietlo duše mojej oko! —
Nights, disappear!Unshade my world,
my bright world puts the clouds to shame!
Even if you shed your very last tear,
you remain blind, my eyes! —
What does the darkness cover? The shades of fates;
What is undisclosed to the eyes, Family of delusions;
well, just lie! High above you,
into the lights of lights, laws of lightnings,
and above the dead curtain of the nature
the eye of my soul has flown! — 10
Nestojte, nohy! choďte horami v ľúbosti géniov snemy! Aj nocou rád bych byť medzi vami, hory Sitna, tak milé mi! — Nechcú ísť nohy — tá tma ich spína? No, veď nohy sú zeme rodina: Nuž stojte, kostí nosidlá! Ale ty, posol mladistvej duši, let tvoj závoje mrakov rozruší, srdce, ty choď, ty máš krídla!
My feet, do not stand! Walk the mountains
towards the summonings of love genii!
I'd like to be with you during the night,
the mountains Sitno, so beloved to me! —
My feet won't walk — does the darkness tie them?
Well, my feet are the family of the Earth:
So stand, you bearers of the bones!
But you, the messenger of the youthful soul,
your flight will scatter the veils of clouds,
my heart, you go, for you have wings!
11
A prsmi môjmi znejú tíšiny večerné v súzvukoch tajných, v súzvukoch tajných znejú hodiny ľúbosti tých nebodajných: Ale žiaľ, podlosť zvon sveta bije v tie nebies ihry a harmónie: tak uspi ma, ty noc divá! Veď je to kliatba ľudskej záhuby, že mámenie a zem svoju ľúbi: nech cit nebo aspoň sníva! —
And my chest sounds with silence
of the evening in secret chords,
in the secret chords, the hours sound
the hours of that heavenly love:
But, sadly, the world bell tolls the wickedness
into the divine games and harmonies:
Cherish me into sleep, you wild night!
For it is the spell of human doom,
that it loves its illusions and its land:
may the heavens dream the emotion at least! —
12
Keď zvona hlasy z veže scendžali, dolinu tichosť obstála, svetlá nebeské hrať sa začali, príroda celá zaspala: a duši peknej pokoj sa zjavil, že čas mohutný hrmot zastavil podlostí ľudských rozbroja. Ale ľudských je osud to duší, že šťastie samo seba sa ruší a niet v pokoji pokoja. —
When the voices from the tower tolled,
the valley was surrounded by stillness,
the heavenly lights commenced to play,
the whole nature fell to sleep:
and the nice soul has envisioned peace,
that the Time has stopped the mighty roar
of the war of the human wickednes.
But such is the fate of human souls
that happiness cancels itself
and there is no calmness in peace. — 13
Zakvitlé vŕby milo dýchajú vône večernej čerstvoty, blízke obloky dnu ich volajú do devy peknej samoty; tam ona stojí nad tichou strunou, hľadí do svetlých nebies čalúnov cez biele okna záclony: Vtom pekné údy k sedadlu skloní, ľúbezná struna čisto zazvoní, hlas jej sa hne medzi tóny:
The blooming willow trees breathe
the lovely scents of evening freshness,
windows so close are luring them inside
into the loneliness of the beautiful maid; there she stands, above the silent string,
looking into the fair heavenly wallpapers
through the white curtains on the window:
Then she leans her lovely limbs to the seat,
and the lovely string rings clearly,
her voice moves among the tones:
14
„Tam nad Sitnom hviezda letí, na krídlach sa nesie zlatých; neleť v kraje zemských detí, sestra, zo zafírov svätých! Zlúpi ťa svet z tých bohatých bleskov tvojej vyššej slávy, v prachoch svojich černošatých nebeský tvoj cit zadlávi!“
„There above Sitno, a star is flying,
carried on her golden wings;
do not fly to the land of human children,
my sister, made of sacred sapphires!
The world robs you off your rich
flashes of your higher fame,
and in the dust of its dark robe
it will tread down your heavenly feel!“
15
„Spalo dievča, sladko spalo, nevinnosť ho kolísala, spalo ešte keď aj vstalo, noc mu vo snách žitia dala: Spala deva, spala málo, obraz jeden ju zobudil, srdce v túžbach zaplakalo, cit sa do nej cudzí vlúdil.“
„The maid was sleeping, she slept so sweet,
rocked by innocence,
she was still sleeping even though she got up,
the night gave her life in dreams :
the maid slept, she didn't sleep much,
she was awakened by a picture,
her heart cried in desire,
some foreign feeling sneaked into her.“
16
„Jak vy, moje milé kvety, jak vy deň a noc som žila, jak vy neznala som svety, jak vy pre nič netúžila! — Ruža, tys’ sa rosou zmyla, že ti slnce tôňa cloní: túžba cit môj zaclonila, preto zrak môj slzy roní.“
„Like you, my lovely flowers,
like you have I lived day and night,
like you, I did not know other worlds,
like you, for nothing have I longed! — Rose, yiu have washed yorself in the dew,
because the shades are shading your Sun:
my feeling is shaded by desire,
that is why my eyes are shedding tears.“
17
„Slzy roní, lež nie zato, dušu túžba že zajala; — oči moje, moje zlato za sväté bych túžby dala: Oko slzou je zaliato, že tu láska času slúži; preto plačem, že zem táto túži len — túži a — túži!“
Shedding tears, yet not because
the desire has captured the soul
my eyes, my gold I would give
for the sacred desires of mine:
The eye is flooded with tears,
because here, love serves the time;
The reason why I cry is that this land,
it's only longing – longing and – longing!“
18
Súzvuky pozdné ešte šumeli svetlom priestrannej svetlici, okrúhlej dlane prsty zastreli ružovú ľúbosť na líci: A starostlivá, biela pravica zbehne náhlivo z vábneho líca ta, kde si srdce ustalo, a s podivením ruka cítila, že šumná deva srdce stratila, a cudzie tam sa hýbalo.
The late chords were still swirling
with the light in a spacious room,
the fingers of a rounded palm have covered
the rosy love in the cheek:
And the caring, white right hand
rushes from lovely cheek there, where the heart used to be,
and, surprised, the hand has felt,
that the lovely maid has lost her heart,
and there was a foreign one, moving.
19
A ruka pravá bystro hovorí: V žilách som tvojich zbadala, že srdce druhé tuto si dvorí: Ja som ti právo to dala? — A srdce: Nevieš, priateľka milá, že pani tvoja mi dovolila v susedstve tvojom prebývať? — Ale vieš ty to, srdce neznané, že komu panej srdce je dané, ten mňa si tiež má dobývať.
And the right hand speaks swiftly:
In your veins, I have seen,
that there is another heart, courting:
Have I given you the right? — And the heart goes: Don't you know, my dear friend,
that your mistress has allowed me
to dwell in your neighborhood? —
But you do know, you unknown heart,
that to whom the heart of the mistress is given,
shall also be courting me.
20
A srdce zase: Nie tak, premilá! Priateľstvo tys’ mi povinná; za paniu teba nepostavila nad srdcom šumná Marína: Pozdraviť ti ma ona vo troje, a nie takéto hádky, rozbroje so mnou začínať kázala. — Ruka začúchla, pravdu uznala, večnú mu vernosť zaprisahala a vrúcne srdce objala. —
And the heart goes again: no, no, my dear! You are obliged to be a friend of mine; you were not ordained the mistress
of my heart by the beautiful Marína: She told you to greet me three times, and not to start such quarrels and fights with me, that's what she ordered you. — The hand froze still, acknowledged the truth, swore eternal faithfulness, and hugged the heart fervently. —
21
Ihla, uvoľň havranie vlasy, striebrom neviaž ich voľný let; Reťaz zlatá, zamračila si ľalíj hrdla snehový kvet; diamant prsta, načo ty svietiš, kde svet iskier oko tvorí? — Granát chladný, čo k prsiam letíš, kde posvätný plameň horí? — Náramnice, putá zlaté, buďte z pekných ramien sňaté!
Needle, let the raven-black hair down,
don't tie their free flight with silver;
You, golden chain, have frowned
the snow flower of the lilies of the neck;
you, diamond of the finger, why do you shine,
where the world of sparks is created by the eye? —
Garnet cold, flying towards the chest,
where does the sacred flame burn? —
wristbands, golden chains,
may you be put off the beautiful arms!
22
Ihla, zostaň pamiatka milá ostrej lásky, čo ma ranila; reťaz, viaž tie hrdla ctnoty, ty zlatý obraz jednoty; diamant, keď noc v svety kročí, ty svieť mi miesto jej očí; ty studený granát, ochladzuj tie hnevy, čo proti mne horia v ňadrách drahej devy; náramnice zlaté, načo by vás sňala, keď slobodu svoju otrokovi dala! —
Needle, remain a pleasant memory
of the sharp love that has hurt me;
chain, tie those sorrows of the throat,
you, golden image of unity;
diamond, when the night enters the worlds,
you shine instead of her eyes for me;
you, cold garnet, cool down those angers,
flaming against me in the breasts of beloved woman;
wristbands of gold, why would she put you down,
when she gave her freedom to a slave! — 23
Ty noc vážna, ty noc tichá, kráľovná ty nebeských snov! Ty čuješ, keď slávik vzdychá žalobný žiaľ svojich tónov: Daj mi byť snom, čo raje tvorí, byť pokojom, čo strasti borí, keď tieň tvoj svety otočí! Tam sa k duši jej nachýlim, k tým krajinám srdca milým, keď zastrie blesk hviezdnych očí!
You, serious night, you silent night,
you queen of heavenly dreams!
You hear a nightingale sighing
the very sorrows of his tones:
Let me be the dream that creates Edens,
be the peace that brings the worries down,
when your shadow turns the worlds upside down!
There I will lean towards her soul,
towards the lands loved by the heart,
when it darkens the flash of the starry eyes!
24
A keď zas svetlo rannej zory osvieti tvár tú nebeskú, ja tam budem, kde ľúbosť horí v hviezdnych očí jasnom blesku. A potom zlietnem útlym letom k ľaliových ňadier svetom, spočiniem na ich dolinách a hľadieť chcem na tie kryštaly, čo v bleskoch zlatých pozostali na hviezdnych očú výšinách. —
And when the morning dawn light
shines upon the heavenly face,
I will be there where love burns
in the clear flash of the starry eyes.
And then I take off to my tiny flight
towards the worlds of the lily breasts,
upon their valleys I shall rest
and I want to be looking at the crystals ,
that have remained in the golden flashes
up in the heights of the starry eyes. — 25
Rozhodnúť už mal čas po dňa strane zápas s mračnami nočnými; už veštci z pántov kričia o ráne hrdlami aj storakými: Ja vstanem: — záhradka malá, aby mi vôní čerstvých podala, vábivo na mňa volala; tam stanem, zrak na východ obrátim — Ah, čo? príroda s zorením zlatým do jej obloka zastala!
The time should have already judged, after the day,
the match with the nightly clouds;
soothsayers screaming about the morning from their perches through their hundredfold throats:
I get up: — the little garden,
in order to hand me fresh scents ,
was calling me luring; there shall I stand , turn my eyes towards the East —
Ah, what? Mother nature with her golden dawn
has come to her window!
26
Oči si premniem, bližšie prikročím, a čo sa zrakom zjavilo? To dievča proti obloku zočím, kde pekné údy zložilo: Hlava jej mäkkej na rúčke leží, od pŕs čarovných v záhyboch beží šata jak obnovec biela: a nad ňou vidím, ako na stráži, chvieť sa v slnečnom oslavy kráži z krás jej vstalého anjela!
I wipe my eyes, come a bit closer
and what has appeared to my eyes?
I see the maiden in the window:
Where she laid down her beautiful limbs
Her head is resting on her soft hand,
from her breasts, magically folded runs
her dress, as white as the new moon:
and above her, I see, on the guard,
shivering in the sunny realms
an angel, arisen from her beauties!
27
„Ustúp!“ on hlasom hromu ma bije, „jak smieš sa blížiť ku kráse, keď ona v chvíľkach tajomných žije len sebe, v pokoja čase? — Sám ja mám právo v čas tento sladký dívať sa na tvár panenskej matky, keď dýcha si v snách zavitá!“ Odpusť, ja nechcem právo pokoja rušiť, bárs ona priateľka moja — ale mne z tváre jej svitá. —
„Step aside!“ he strikes me with the voice of thunder, „how dare you approach beauty,
while she lives in secret moments
only for herself, in times of peace? —
Only I do have the right in this sweet time
to watch the face of the virgin mother ,
while she's breathing, coiled up in dreams!“
Forgive me, the right for peace I don't mean to
disturb, yet she's a friend of mine —
but with her face, the dawn comes to me. — 28
Ustúpim; ale pamiatka moja naveky si to spomína, aký je vo tmách anjel pokoja, aká je vo snách Marína: Očiam som vlastným nedal verenia, či blud to, či zveličenia sklá mi kto na nos pripína? — Sláva cheruba tak ju obstala, že sa po tvári rozoznať dala mladá dráženiec rodina.
I shall step back;yet the memory of mine
forever shall remember,
how is the angel of peace like in the darkness,
How is Marína like in dreams:
I gave no credit to my very eyes,
is it delusion, or euphemisms
is somebody putting glasses on my nose? —
The glory of the cherub surrounded her so
that on her face, there could be seen
a young family of lights.
29
Pavučinky sa štyri vykradli spod snežnej čipky na čelo, dve z týchto vlákien ústa obsadli, dvoje z nich k hrdlu zletelo: Kto by pomyslel, že bôžik lásky sem i tam tieto hodvábne vlásky po poli krásy rozkládol? — On ti ich zvábil z výšin ich vlasti a po nich z ňadier ku žriedlam slasti znachor ten sa ti vypriadol! —
Four spider-webs sneaked out
from beneath the snowy embroidery down on the forehead,
two of these threads sat around the mouth ,
two of them flew down to the throat :
Who would have thought that the god of love
has spread also those silky hair
all over the fields of beauty? —
He has lured them down from the heights of their homeland
and using these threads, from the breasts to the springs of lust the ugly boy made his way up! 30
A po jej líci, čo za zlé malo tomu, čo sultánsky si driemalo na mäkkých ruky perinách — po líca toho ružovom sádku blesky zôr ranných lietali; akoby deti v Sitna dolinách v zháňaní bystrom, v líp starých chládku o drevenú blšku sa hrali: lebo jak šarvanci, keď pásajú voly, za letačkou jastria v zakvitnutom poli.
And on her other cheek that envied
the other one, resting like a sultan on the soft feathers of her hand—
on the rosy cheek of hers
the flashes of morning dawn were cast;
as if the children of Sitno in the valleys
were playing and old folk game
hushing in the shades of old lime trees :
like the youngsters, when grassing the bulls
are trying to spot a bird in a blooming field . 31
Jak by siroty v žiaľoch plakali kvety na hrobe otcovom: tak pod jej čelom dva riadky stáli vláskov v odeve smútkovom. — Čože tie smútia? Hádam závidia tým dlhým, ktoré vylíhať vidia najkrajším okolím tela? — Ach, nie! Radosti noc im pokradla, keď jej oči, im milé zrkadlá, ich túžbam napriek zastrela.
Like orphans would lament in their sorrows
crying tears on their father's grave:
so there were two rows of hair below her forehead
standing dressed in mourning clothes. —
Why are they mourning? Do they perhaps envy
the long ones that they see lying around
the most beautiful surroundings of the body? —
Oh, no! The night stole their joys ,
when her eyes, lovely mirrors to them ,
were veiled despite their desires . 32 A ich sa žiaľom ako posmieval úsmech — kto mu vie príčinu? Hádam satirkou vo snách previeval kús’ pošvábenú dievčinu; alebo spiacim citom ho tajný kýs’ pohľad v pekné ľúbosti krajiny na rty ružové vylúdil: Dosť na tom, do snov mámivých kraja, chudák, nevediac cestu do raja, úsmešok tento zablúdil.
And how he laughed at their sorrows
Sneer — who knows where it comes from?
Maybe he was blowing satire in dreams
on some germanized maid;
or was it sleeping emotion
some secret sight of nice beauties of the land
that has lured him to the red lips:
Nonetheless, to the land of delusional dreams he strayed,
poor man, not knowing the way to paradise,
this sneer has found its way.
33
Oj, mocná si ty, moja predrahá, aj v slabých chvíľkach polžitia! A krásy tieto kto popremáha, keď celým životom schytia? Ale hádku mi sama vysvetli: čo za zázraky v tebe sa stretli? — Či spíš aj vo dne v očiach jasnosti? Či nespíš očma v tmách zavrenýma? Či nespíš, keď ťa sníček objíma? Či spíš sen večný mladosti? —
Oh, how powerful you are, my most precious,
even in the weak moments of half-life!
And who will defeat these beauties,
when they start flaming with the whole life?
But you alone, please explain me this riddle:
what kind of miracles have met in you? —
Do you sleep during the day in the eyes of clarity?
Don't you sleep with your eyes closed in the dark?
Don't you sleep when a dream is hugging you ?
Do you dream the eternal dream of youth?? —
34
Odstri už raz, odstri, Marína, ňadier milých tajomný chrám! — Mramorná socha sa pohýna, keď toľkým k nej hlasom volám! Ale, čo div? či hviezdy krásu slabučký šum zemského hlasu na púšť sveta dol uprosí? Ale vyznaj, či blesk zornici smrtnú bledosť na ruže líci slzou lásky neprosí? —
Reveal once, reveal, Marína,
The secret temple of your lovely breasts! —
A statue of marble starts moving ,
when I cry with such a voice upon it!
But, what's this? Can the beauty of a star
be begged by a weak murmur of earthly voice
on the desert of the world ?
But tell me, does lightning not beg the morning star
the deathly pale on the cheek of a rose
with a tear of love? —
35
Víchrice strašné sa rozlietli nad mladistvým nebom mojím; so snom sa zraky moje stretli, zdúchli svetlá bránam svojim; a pred oči nespiacich citov, s podobou strašnou, nezakrytou obrazy divé zastali: Vtom duch nádeje krásnej sa zjaví v anjelskom svetle tvojej postavy — a šelmy hroziť prestali.
Terrible windstorms are flying
above the youthful skies of mine;
My eyes have met the dream,
have blown out the lights at their gates;
and in front of the eyes of non-sleeping emotions,
with a terrible, uncovered appearance
wild images have defiled:
Suddenly, the spirit of hope emerges
in the angelic light of your body —
and the beasts stopped threatening. 36
Čo je nádeja? Blesk mámivý, nešťastných dňov neverný syn, nepriateľ biednych milostivý, šťastných hodín ďaleký stín: On túžbu, matku vlastnú, zbije, kolísku v srdci si rozvije, a v srdci aj hrob si vyryje, v plameni vlastnom potom zhorí — hradby pekla síce zborí, ale nebo neotvorí. —
What is hope? A delusional flash,
an unfaithful son of unhappy days,
merciful enemy of the poor ,
a distant shade of happy hours :
He beats the desire, his own mother,
unfolds a cradle in his heart,
and he also digs his grave in his heart,
burning down in his own flame —
he might tear down the walls of hell,
yet he won't open the heavens . — 37
Vytrhni obraz môj z pamäti, zdus každé ľúbosti hnutie, roztrhaj mojich citov kvety, hoď v najhlbšie zabudnutie, aj spevov týchto bledé stíny zruš, drahá! — ale cherubíni nevyrvú z duše teba mi! A čo bys’ svetmi zutekala, čo bys’ za svety mňa zahnala, všade stanú lásky chrámy!
Rip my image out of memory,
kill every motion of love ,
Tear apart the flowers of my emotions,
cast them into the deepest forgetting ,
you may even cancel the pale shades of these hymns,
dear! — but the cherubim
won't rip you out of my soul!
And even if you ran into the worlds,
even if you chased me out of the worlds,
temples of love will stand everywhere!
38
Marína moja! sveta búrov duch môj tichý sa nebojí, vulkánskych sa neľakne kúrov, nezľakne krvavej zbroji, svedomie čisté svetov plameň — čaká pokojne v ten hromov deň, pokoj môj v hrobe nezhynie: No môžu strhnúť svet môj celý jedného slova hrozné strely, slova toho z úst tvojich: „Nie!“
My Marína! My silent spirit
is not afraid of other worlds,
it doesn't fear the volcanic smokes,
nor does it fear of bloody armor,
clean consciousness, flame of the worlds—
peacefully awaits on the day of thunders,
my peace will not perish in grave:
But my whole world can be torn down
by terrible shots of a single word,
coming out of your mouth: „No!“
39
Srdce tvrdé pokojne hľadí na rozmliaždený pätou kvet, v duši divej sa neusadí citov nežných milostný svet: Ale ty, drahá, kvet dobroty, mohla bys’ vidieť trápnej psoty v horkých slzách spálenú tvár? Mohla bys’ podať duši vernej naplnený otravy čiernej rozlúčenia strašný pohár? —
A heart of stone is calmly looking
at a flower, trodden down by the heel,
in a wild soul, the world of love
and tender emotions will not settle:
But you, my dear, flower of goodness,
could you look in the face of terrible misery
burnt by flaming tears?
Could you hand a dreadful glass of
black poison of parting
to a faithful soul? — 40
„Nie!“ Ha, milostný tento hlas zamkýna žiaľ v pekla hroby, a vedie búrkou žitia nás v blažené života doby! Nie, neustúpi lásky sila lichotným sveta nádejam! Nie, čo by zem sa v priepasť skryla, nezvráti svet ľúbosti nám: Nie, nič mi zloba neškodila, keď teba, drahá, teba mám!
„No!“ Hey, this lovely voice
locks the grief in graves of hell,
leading us through the storm of life
into the blissful life times! No, the power of love won't make way
to the flattering hopes of the world No, not even if the earth hid inside an abyss,
it wouldn't turn our world of love upside down:
No, no evil had done me any harm,
When I have you, my dear!
41
Možno mi tvojich úst sa odrieknuť, možno mi ruky nedostať, možno mi v diaľky žiaľne utieknuť, možno mi nemilým ostať, možno mi ústam smädom umierať, možno mi žialiť v samote, možno mi život v púšťach zavierať, možno mi nežiť v živote, možno mi seba samého zhubiť: — nemožno mi ťa neľúbiť! —
I may abstain from your lips,
I may not be given your hand,
I may run far away in sorrow,
I may become unkind,
My lips may be dying of thirst,
I may be grieving in solitude,
I may entrap life in deserts,
I may not live in my life,
I may even obliterate myself: —
but I am incapable of not loving you! —
42 Verte mi, verte, krajania moji, vy, žitia môjho priatelia! Pravda je, v mojich slovách čo stojí, verní sa večne o pravdu delia: Báječným tváram mojich výrazov, zázračným farbám mojich obrazov vieru nedajte udusiť; v božských kolískach divy sa rodia, božskosť nám ony z neba privodia: uverte, keď chcete skúsiť! —
Believe me, believe, my fellow countrymen,
you, friends of my living! Truth is what stands in my words,
the faithful ones always share the truth :
Wonderful expressions on my face,
magical colors on my paintings
don't let them suffocate the faith;
in divine cradles, wonders are born,
bringing divinity from heavens to ous:
believe, if you want to try! — 43 V krajoch velebných slovo božskosti v jednej výšine sa javí, v podobe tejto hlasy veľkosti poddaným dolinám vraví: Beda, kto v mori vidí len vodu, kto nepočuje nemú prírodu, kto v skalách vidí len skaly! — Zázrak je nemú počuť prírodu? — Dosť ráz ste sa vy, myšlienky rodu, slepými zrakmi dívali! —
In the reverend lands, a divine word
in a height appears to be,
in this shape, the voices of greatness
says to the subordinated valleys:
Beware who only sees water in the sea,
who does not hear the silent countryside,
who only sees rocks in rocks! —
Is it a miracle to hear the silent countryside? —
many times have you, the ideas of lineage,
looked with your eyes blind! —
44 V krajoch velebných slovo božskosti v jednej výšine javí, v podobe tejto hlasy veľkosti poddaným dolinám vraví: Výšavu túto ozrutné bralá — kto zná, kde moc tie masy nabrala — ako balvany obstali; a hrôzy tých skál s ich strašnou nocou od dávnych našich praprapraotcov priezvisko Sitna dostali.
In the reverend lands, a divine word
in a height appears to be,
in this shape, the voices of greatness
says to the subordinated valleys:
Gigantic rocks have surrounded —
who knows where the power got the masses from —
this great height like boulders;
and the dreads of those rocks with their terrifying night
were given from our ancient grand-grand-grandparents
the surname of Sitno.
45 Bol ten vrch kedys’ peklom, či sitnom bludným pohanským rodinám, teraz, v století hladnom a sýtnom, ničím je svojim dolinám. Čas ešte príde, kde dušiam zemským Sitno sa stane vrchom diabelským a krvou čiernou sa spení; čas ešte príde, že dušiam svätým Sitno sa stane hradom odkliatym a meno v „Nebo“ premení!
That mountain used to be the hell or Devil's place
to delusional pagan families,
and now, in the hungry and intense century,
it means nothing to its valleys .
The time will come, when the earthly souls Sitno will become the Devil's Peak and it will boil with red blood;
The time will come, that for the sacred souls, Sitno will become an unspelled castle and it changes its name to „Heaven“ ! 46
Teutónska závisť, blud krivooký Sitnu česť jeho odobral, vrch neďaleký, bárs aj vysoký, meno „Paradís“ vyžobral: No na vrch tento, na vrch severa, modliť sa chodí nábožná viera, za vrch ten prosiť hnev boží; severné vetry večne doň dujú, odniesť ho na juh sa usilujú; viera tie hory preloží! —
Teutonic envy, cross-eyed delusion
Deprived Sitno of its dignity,
and nearby mountain, even though high,
has begged for the name „Paradise“ :
Yet upon this mountain, the northern peak,
religious faith comes to pray,
to plea the godly anger for the mountain;
the northern winds are blowing eternally into it,
trying to carry it down south;
faith can move those mountains! —
47 A slávy tejto už okamženia nadšenosť moja videla, keď ľúbosť moja — moje túženia — na hory Sitna letela; letela, stála; do milých krajov, do mesta, záhrad, do lúk, do hájov s dvojakou túžbou hľadela: Hľadela, k skalám vrátila zraky, tu nesmrtného ducha — zázraky! v podobe obra zazrela.
And my enthusiasm has seen
the moments of this fame,
where my love — my desires —
flew to the Sitno mountain ;
it flew and flew, it stood; into lovely lands,
to town, to gardens , to meadows and forests
she looked with double desire:
She looked and looked , returned her eyes to the rocks,
and suddenly, she saw an immortal spirit— miracle!
In the shape of a giant.
48
Ani neverím, musí byť ona kňažnou tých vyšších bytostí, ktoré nám tajná kryje opona v prijasných svetlách večnosti: Lebo tak mi je pri nej bezmiestno, hneď nebosladko, hneď zas bolestno, nemožno na ňu sa dívať! každú myšlienku v anjela mení! a sám som ešte nezjednotený, či ju mám ľúbiť, či vzývať? —
I cannot believe, she must be
a priestess of higher beings ,
that are veiled by a secret curtain
in the too bright lights of eternity :
For I feel completely displaced with her,
here sweet as heaven, there painful again
I cannot be looking at her
she changes every thought to an angel !
And I am still quite uncertain,
if I should love her, or praise her? — 49
A duch ten stojí, na mňa sa díva, ja stojím, hľadím na neho: Ale on nebol, jak zlý duch býva, moc mal on čohos’ milého: Kto si? Mňa ľúbosť tvoja zrodila a krása mi za dojku slúžila, veky ma k zrade nepohli. — Skríknem: Bohyňa si ty vernosti! — Nôh mojich divom prejaté kosti nevdojak k prachu sa zohli.
And that spirit is standing, looking at me,
I'm standing and looking at him:
But he was not like the evil spirit usually is,
he had a power of something nice :
Who are you? I was born by the love of yours and beauty was breastfeeding me,
ages have not moved me to betrayal. —
I shout: Goddess of faithfulness, you are! —
and the bones of my legs, struck by wonder
have bent down towards dust .
50
Tak duše vlastnej velebím dcéru, zrazu svet zmizne okolo — zrazu zas svitne — kto mi dá vieru? Skál Sitna tam už nebolo! Pohronské nivy sa usmievali očiam hladovým, tieto hľadali, kde sa bohyňa podela? — Vtom sa zas ona dôstojne zjaví, zázračnej knihu mi veličavy na kvetnú dlažbu prestrela.
So I praise the daughter of my own soul, suddenly, the world around me disappears — suddenly there's dawning again — who gives me faith? but the Rocks of Sitno were gone!
The lands of Pohronie were laughing at
the hungry eyes that were searching ,
where did the goddess go?—
Then again, she appears with dignity ,
and she has laid a miraculously big book
on the ground of flowers in front of me.
51 Prestrela, potom pri mne zastala, neišla slová hovoriť: Tvár moja bytnosť túto vzývala, ruka šla knihu otvoriť. — Čo je to? Či al-korán Arabov, či svet magický snáď Barkochabov, či deje svetovíťazov? Rozhodím ťažké, zlaté zápony, a kŕdeľ sa mi pekných odcloní rafaelovských obrazov!
Laid down the book, then stopped at me,
she was not going to talk words:
My face was praising this being,
my hand moved to open the book. —
What is it?? Is it the Al-Quran of the Arabs,
or perhaps the magical world of Barkochabov,
or the events of the winners of the world?
I shall tear open the heavy buckles of gold, and a bunch of nice Raphaelian paintings
is revealed in front of my eyes! 52 Odhalím prvý. Kde nápis? Žiadny! Ah, aká driečna mladucha! Jahody zbiera, trhá kvet vnadný — škoda, že tôňa bez ducha! Ona si sedí, zobká jahody, do vienkov viaže kvetov slobody, na rtoch nevinné tíšiny: Bez ducha? Pozri pekný mier čela, zornicou peknou tichosť vyzrela — Ona? — ani tieň Maríny!
I reveal the first one. Where's the inscription?None is there!
Oh, what a pretty lady!
Picking up strawberries, the luring flower —
it's a pity that it's a shadow without spirit!
She is sitting there, nibbing on strawberries,
tying the flowers of freedom into garlands,
on her lips, innocent stills:
Lacking spirit? Look at her beautiful forehead,
stillness matured in her beautiful eyes —
Her? — not even a shade of Marína! 53
Preč! odstriem druhý. — Oj, si velebný, oceán v svätej tíšine! Jak sa uzerá breh ten malebný v mohutnej tvojej hladine! Rukami diaľku objíma mora na brehu socha z bielo-mramora: Socha? Nie, nadšená deva! — Ba anjel letkom prachu sa tknúci, oči, blesk, ústa, plameň horúci — Oj, krajšie ona túžieva!
Away! I unveil second one. — Oh, gracious you are,
an ocean in sacred calmness!
How does this picturesque bank reflect itself
in your vast surface!
She embraces the distance of the sea with her arms
a statue in white marble on the shore:
Statue? No, a maid enthused! —
An angel touching the dust while flying,
eyes, flash, mouth, burning flame —
Ey, her desire is much more beautiful!
54
Tretí. To Vlasta v hradbách Devína? Srdením líca jej horia, kušu si tuho, hnevno napína, už zraky jej strašne moria! Jastrabie oči za chlapmi letia — ľúbosťou? — pomstou ony sa svietia a sypú blesky záhuby. — To je Xantipa! — Ale Marína strašnejšie hrôzy v hneve odpína, lebo vo hneve — neľúbi.
Third one. Is it Vlasta on the castle walls of Devín?
Her cheeks burning in anger,
angrily, heavily is she loading her crossbow,
her eyes are killing dreadfully!
Hawk eyes chasing men —
with love? — those eyes are lit with vengeance
casting the lightnings of doom . —
It’s Xantipa! — But Marína,
she launches even more terrifying dreads, because when angry— she does not love. 55
Čo ďalej? — Biele vy houbinky, jak sa ľúbezne ihráte a nad záhradkou švárnej dievčinky z očí v oči hrkútate! Červenou nôžkou párik sa hladí, pyštek sa druhým pyštekom sladí, krídelká snežné žartujú: Ona sa na ne s úsmechom díva, zdá sa, že z úst jej hlas sa ozýva: Chudiatka, sproste milujú! —
What’s next? — you, white doves,
how cute you are playing and above the beautiful maid‘s garden
you’re cooing, eye to eye!
Red leg pets the other in the pair,
mouth sweetens another mouth ,
the snowy wings are joking:
She is watching them with laughter,
it seems there is voice echoing from her mouth :
Poor doves, how silly they love each other! — 56
Potom? — Ach, to je Petra svätyňa v ohradách rimanskej slávy, velikosť sa v tých stenách vypína, mramorné vravia postavy! Tam pre najväčším posvätným stolom, okom letiaca k nebeským pólom, kľačí nadšená dievčina a na jej čele svätosti dúha — Ona sa modlí? — ona sa rúha, keď kľakne zbožná Marína!
And then? — Ah, that‘s Petra, the sanctuary
in the palings of Roman fame,
there’s greatness stretching up in those walls,
marble statues talk!
There, in front of the largest sacred table,
with her eye, flying to the heavenly poles,
there kneels the enthused maid and on her forehead, rainbow of holiness —
Is she praying? — blasphemy, that is!,
when (compared to) the pious Marína (as she)kneels down!
57
Čo tie obrazy, mati vernosti, povedz, čo tie znamenajú? Či azda mojej drahej peknosti odbleskom akýms’ byť majú? Maliaru biedny! zmrhal si stíny, zmrhal si prácne svoje hodiny a chybels’ krásy krajiny! — Tys’ chcel ustáliť let ideálu, vystaviť chcel si Maríny chválu, a máš satiru Maríny! —
What are those pictures, mother of faithfulness,
tell me, what do those mean?
Should they be just some mere reflections
of my precious beauty?
Poor painter! You wasted the shadows,
you wasted your own hours of labour and you missed the beauty of the land! —
You meant to stabilize the flight of an ideal,
you wanted to exhibit the praise of Marína,
and you’ve got a satire on Marina! — 58
Hrdá je ona. Holomok podlý, beda ti v krásnej blízkosti! V zraky si ona hromy vymodlí, v postavu hrozby prísnosti; na tvár jej jasné svedomie vzletí, z čela jej svätosť veľká zasvieti — oslepneš pred ňou, potvora! Ale vstaň pred ňu v jej vlastnej cnosti, a z ušľachtilej tejto hrdosti krásnejšia skvitne pokora.
Proud, she is. Cowardly villain,
woe to you close to her beautiful presence!
She will pray for thunders in her eyes,
body with a threat of strictness;
clear consciousness will sit on her face,
great holiness shines from her forehead —
You’ll get blind in front of her, you beast!
But stand in front of her in her own chastity, and out of this graceful pride
the more beautiful humility will flourish.
59
Pristúp k nej, zlomyseľná klebeta, vidíš ju a nič neskúsiš, pekná jej duša ti je zastretá, sám seba oklamať musíš. Každé jej slovo hádkou ti bude, jej pravda v tvojom ťa nechá blude, zjavenie jej ťa ubije: Ale jak v bystrom Hrone kamienky, tak sa tajomstvo mojej milenky dušiam úprimným odkryje.
Approach her, you evil-minded gossip,
you see her and dare to do nothing,
her nice soul is covered for you,
you have to lie to yourself.
Her every word will be like a riddle,
her truth will leave you in your own delusion,
her appearance will strike you down:
But like the pebbles in the rushing waters of Hron,
the secret of my lover
will be revealed to sincere souls. 60
A keď zabúri nad ňou lós divý, čo neľutuje anjela, strach ju objíme nespravodlivý, hneď by mu v rukách omdlela: No tu na svoju skríkne nádeju, a na jej ústach hneď sa zasmejú bezpečné pokoja zore: a nad lós zlostný alebo skúpy svedomie čisté jasno vystúpi, jak hrdé slnce nad more.
And when wild fate roars above her,
with no remorse for the angel,
fear embraces her, unjust,
she would instantly pass out in his very arms:
But thens she shouts for her hope,
and on her lips, the safe
dawn of peace is smiling :
and above the fate, evil or malicious
clear consciousness brightly ascends,
like the proud sun above the sea. 61
Počul si tiché vtáčka vzdychanie? Videl si kvety sperlené? V tôňach nebeských hviezdičky ranné? Ruží vädnúcich túženie? Neslýchals’ nikdy o srnke milej v ostrých pazúroch orlice divej, keď v tichých prosbách umiera? Ona, keď osud švihne ju prísne, útlym sa srdcom ku mne pritisne, ticho si slzy utiera. —
Have you heard the silent sighs of a bird?
Have you seen flowers pearled?
In the heavenly shades, the morning stars?
The desire of withering roses?
Never heard of a lovely deer
in the sharp claws of wild eagle,
as it is dying in silent pleas?
She, when the fate whips her strictly,
she will lean on me with her tiny heart,
silently wiping off her tears. — 62
Vskutku ja, krásna, vtedy sám neviem, či závisť cítim, či ľútosť, tak si mi pekná s tvojím žialeniem, tak dvojná vo mne pohnutosť; a odpusť, jestli kedy tak hreším, že z tvojho žiaľu ešte sa teším, čo by som teba mal tešiť: Odpusť mi túto svojhlavosť malú, že chcem sa radšej oproti žiaľu než proti kráse prehrešiť.
Indeed I, my beautiful, do not know at that time,
whether it’s envy or pity that I’m feeling,
you are so beautiful to me with your sorrow,
so ambiguous is the emotion inside me;
and forgive me if I ever sin,
being fond of your sorrow,
when I should be cherishing you instead:
forgive me for being a little headstrong,
for I would rather sin against sorrow
than against beauty. 63
A keď ťa sladké chvíle obstanú, mladé tie zmysly jak hrajú! V každom milého žitia orgánu tisíc radostí lietajú. Hneď jak bys’ chcela k nebu sa vzpínať, hneď jak bys’ chcela svety objímať, plnás’ rozkošných zápalov! A tu zas v novej som pochybnosti, či sa mám tešiť z tvojich radostí, či z tvojich očí krištáľov?
And when the sweet moments surround you,
how do the young senses play!
In every organ of the lovely living
thousands of joys are flying.
As if you wanted to rise towards the sky,
As if you wanted to embrace the worlds,
you’re full of charming sparks!
And here I am in a new doubt,
should I be fond of your delights,
or of the crystals of your very eyes? 64
No, nežiadam si tvoje radosti, bárs aj prekrásne, nevinné, pre mňa nech trebárs žriedlo sladkosti zastane, vyschne, vyhynie; žiadam si ale jednu z radostí, pravda, tú najprvnejšej veľkosti, v čase nezmennom požívať: Radosť tú, večne do tvojich očí, keď sa z nich radosť nadzemská točí, s sladkým nadšením sa dívať. —
Well, I do not ask your delights,
be they beautiful, innocent,
I don’t care if the spring of sweetness
stops, dries out, dies;
But I desire one of the joys,
certainly, the one that is the first and the greatest,
for me to be enjoyed during unchanging times:
The joy of looking into your eyes,
when they radiate with ethereal joy ,
forever, with sweet enthusiasm. —
65
Hron kalné vody búrno valí, zimný víchor zhora veje, nad ním mládenec osiralý stáva, stáva — slzy leje: lebo v svetoch tých šírošírych, v púšťach tých smutných, divodivých hodín svätých, pokojných niet; a tú, čo duša jeho vzýva, závistná diaľka mu zakrýva, tú nemožno blízko vidieť!
Hron is rolling its muddy waters stormily,
cold stormy wind blowing from above,
there is an abandoned young man
standing, standing , pouring tears:
because there in the wide worlds,
in the sad, wild deserts
there are no holy, calm hours; and the one that his soul worships,
she is covered by the envious distance,
she cannot be seen from close! 66
Túžby sa jeho unášajú v život vyšší prudkým letom, myšlienky jeho si lietajú ideálnym slávnym svetom: Ale zákon ho nevyhnutný na žalár lósov tmavý, smutný ohromným putom prikoval; a tú, ktorú duch jeho vzýva, útechu svoju v nejž si sníva, tú mu za kopy hôr schoval!
His desires are being carried
towards a higher life in a steep flight,
his thoughts are roaming in an ideal, famous world :
But the inevitable law
has chained him up to the dark and sad jail of fates
with a mighty chain;
and the one worshipped by his spirit,
dreaming about his comfort in her ,
was hidden from him behind many mountains! 67 Odpusť, drahá, keď smutné hlasy vzdychne k tebe priateľ verný: Na šťastných hodín živé krásy tys’ bohatá, on mizerný; ty v srdca hradbách uzavrená, milými svojimi otočená, nebudíš sa z mladistvých snov; duch sveta jeho tajnou mocou vedie búrnou žitia nocou v divé boje ľudských duchov.
Forgive, my dear, when sad voices
are sighed to you by a faithful friend:
On living beauties of happy hours
you’re rich and he’s poor;
you, enclosed within the walls of your heart,
turned by your beloved ones,
you are not awaking from your youthful dreams;
the spirit of the world, by its secret power
is leading human spirits through the stormy night of living
into wild fights. 68
Podaj mi ruku, veľkocitá, k ideálnym duší horám, kde sláva v zlatých bleskoch svitá slobodných srdcí priestorám! Z výšin tých hľaďme v zmätok nízky, čo žitím, k hrobu od kolísky, satanským ramenom vládne: vidíte, jak blkom horí! — Keď ten padne — láska svety nové stvorí! —
Reach out your hand to me, you, endowed with vast emotions,
to the ideal mountains of the souls,
where the glory dawns in golden flashes
upon the free lands of the hearts !
From those heights, let us look down to the low turmoil,
that rules throughout the life, to the grave from the cradle,
with his Satanic hand:
you can see it burning rapidly! —
When it falls — love shall create new worlds! — 69
A v svetoch týchto, duša moja, veľkí sú, čo sú tu malí, pokoj večný bez nepokoja, sladkosť, ktorú žiaľ nekalí; tam zlato krásu nepreváži, tam slabosť srdce nerozdráždi, závisti tam jedy hynú; v svetoch tých s vrelosťou srdečnou, sprisahaní vernosťou večnou, milí ku milým sa vinú.
And in these worlds, my soul,
those are big who are small here,
eternal peace without unrest,
sweetness that is not poisoned by sorrow; there, gold does not outweigh beauty,
there, weakness does not startle the heart,
the venoms of envy die there;
in those worlds, with warm-hearted passion,
sworn in by eternal faithfulness,
the lovers cuddle to their beloved ones.
70 Hoj! jak je sladko žiť s anjelom hodín anjelských večný rad, volať toho svojím priateľom, čo tvorca je svetov a hrad! Jak je velebno krásu matkou, cnosť, pravdu volať sestrou sladkou a pokoj bratom nazývať! — Tu ľúbosť pozná oslávená, pocíti sladko, čo znamená v nebeskom objatí bývať!
Hey! How sweet it is, living with an angel
eternal row of angelic hours ,
calling the one your friend,
who is the creator of the worlds!
How sublime it is, calling beauty your mother,
virtue, truth your sweet sister and calling the peace your brother! —
Here, the celebrated shall know love ,
shall feel the sweet meaning of
living in heavenly embrace!
71
Ale čo volám, osiralý pod jelšami stojac Hrona? Tam, kde vysoké Sitna skaly, hlas môj nepočuje ona! — Že nie? či jej, krásnej, o kráse, jej, anjelu, v anjelskom hlase, ľúbeznej ľúbosť nespievam? — Keď spevy tieto by mlčali, sitnianske skaly by volali tak k nej a k slovenským devám:
But why am I calling, abandoned
under the alders along the Hron ? There where the high rocks of Sitno are,
she cannot hear my voice! —
Can she not? Am I not singing to her, the beautiful, about beauty,
to her, an angel, with an angelic voice,
to her, lovable, am I not singing love? —
If these hymns would remain silent,
the rocks of Sitno would cal
upon her and upon Slovak maids, in such a way: 72
Slovensko mladé, rodisko moje
aj mohyla mojich kostí!
v tebe mám pekných obrazov dvoje
a dvoje veľkých ľúbostí! —
Ako je krásna tá moja deva,
aká k nej ľúbosť vo mne horieva:
tak ty a k tebe, otčina!
Ako tys’ pekná, krajina moja,
ako mladistvosť milá mi tvoja:
tak pekná, milá Marína!
You, yound Slovakia, my birthplace
and also the barrow (grave) of my bones!
In you, I have two beautiful pictures as well as two great loves! —
As beautiful my maid is ,
As is my love towards her flaming inside me :
so are you and so it is to you, fatherland! As you are beautiful, my land,
as I like your youthfulness:
so beautiful, lovable is Marína! 73
Chcel bych vás objať, kraje rodiny! náručie úzke, šíry cit: Jak mi je sladko v ňadrách Maríny objatie vaše pocítiť! Jak mi je blaho nič, nič nežiadať, z objemu v objem naveky padať, troch nebies slasti prijímať! Vlasť drahú ľúbiť v peknej Maríne, Marínu drahú v peknej otčine, a obe v jednom objímať!
I’d love to embrace you, lands of my family!
Arms so narrow, emotion so wide:
How sweet it is for me to feel your embrace
in the breasts of Marína!
How blissful I feel, asking for nothing, nothing
to keep falling from embrace to embrace eternally,
receiving the delights of three heavens!
Loving the dear country within the beautiful Marína,
Loving Marína within the beautiful fatherland,
and embrace both in one!
74
Ako keď na tie snehové Hole vraných orlov kŕdeľ zlietne, a preletujúc hore a dole, vše sa jeden s druhým stretne a samopašne let ich sa kríži, jeden sa zvýši, druhý sa zníži, a hneď zas ticho zastanú: tak na ľaliách ňadier dievčiny havraních vlasov šťastné rodiny v letoch tichých sem-tam vanú. —
As a flock of wild eagles
when it flies upon the snowy Hole
and, flying up and down,
from time to time, they meet
and their flights cross in a playful way,
one flies higher, the other one lower,
and suddenly they stand still:
upon the lilies of the maid’s breasts
the happy families of raven-black hair
occasionally fly in their silent flights. —
75
Nad Hronom mladý breh sa ti zjaví, bielou ružou zakvitnutý, na kvete s rannou rosou sa baví blesk z nebies čistých svitnutý; hneď sa korunka jasno pozláti, hneď sa zas v biely nestín zašatí, ohňov ni mrazov netuší: Tu by, Marína, si uzrela, bielosť tých ruží je z tvojho čela, hra bleskov, hra našich duší.
Above the Hron, a young bank appears in front of you,
blossoming with white roses,
a lightning that shone from the clear dawning skies
is playing with morning dew on a flower;
now, the crown gets plated in gold,
and now it gets dressed in white nestín
knows no fires no frost:
Here, Marína, you could see,
the whiteness of the roses comes from your forehead,
the game of lightnings, game of our souls . 76
Krajan môj, znáš ty tie dve studničky, čo v tôňach Tatry blýskajú? Ich nebojasné, blízke vodičky iskrením jednakým hrajú; zastaneš pri nich, z ktorej sa napiť? Z obidvoch! — závisť musí ťa lapiť, vidiac plávanie žubrienky: Tak mňa dvojaká túžba napadá a zmysel každý okúsiť žiada sperlené zraky milenky.
My countryman, do you know of those two springs,
flashing in the shades of the Tatra?
Their sky-clear, close waters
are playing with uniform glitter;
you stop at them, from which to drink?
From both! — envy must be holding you,
when you see the tadpoles swimming:
so I am caught by twofold desire and my every single sense asks to try
the pearled sights of my lover. 77
Ktože by kvet ten poľného maku na tých ústach nevidel rád? Jak by peknému nečaril zraku pod rtom kostiek slonových rad? Na úst tých milé, plné karmíny mladosť si sadla mojej otčiny, na zúbky bielosť neviny: Zväzok tých farieb nie je náhoda, tu mi podáva matka príroda dve farby môjho národa.
Who wouldn’t like to see the wild poppy flower
on those lips, and be glad?
How could a beautiful sight not be enchanted
by the row of ivory bones underneath the lip?
Upon the lovely, full crimsons of that mouth
the youth of my fatherland has sat down,
the whiteness of innocence upon the teeth:
This bunch of colours is no coincidence,
here, the mother nature is handing me
the two colours of my nation.
78
Na kvetolúkach v Sitna doline v hrách slovenských devy stoja a ozýva sa v spevnej rodine slávne: „Hoja, Ďunďa, hoja!“ — Krásne klinčeky sa červenajú, a králikov sa stá, stá belejú, a jaro s nimi pohráva: Tie hry, tie kvety mi vystavila, lenže v útlejší obraz zavila v lícach milej matka Sláva.
On the flowery meadows in the valley of Sitno
the maids are standing, playing Slovak games
and it sounds in a singing unison
the famous: „Hoja, Ďunďa, hoja!“ —
Beautiful cloves are red,
and hundreds, hundreds of rabbits are shining in white, and the spring is playing with them:
These games, these flowers were set,
yet wrapped up in a more compact picture,
into the cheeks of my beloved by the mother Glory. 79
Vieš, keď zornica lieta si mladá v nedbalkách, to v mladom stíne, a milého si Chasona hľadá po vysokej Javorine? — Keď zora nočné oblieka šaty a tôňou zastrie palác svoj zlatý, zrakom smrteľných ukrytá: tak v pekných chvíľach jednej hodiny deň bielych ňadier mojej Maríny sto ráz zapadá a svitá. —
You know, when the young morning star is flying
undressed, in a young shade,
looking for her lover
all around the tall Javorina? —
When the dusk puts on its night dress
and covers its golden palace with shade,
hidden to the sight of mortals:
then in nice moments of a single hour
the day of the white breasts of my Marína
rises and sets down hundred times. —
80
Na horách našich mládenec stáva, spev jeho kvet duše jeho; zápasy bohov on nerozpráva, nie buk rytierstva starého; hlas ten nezvoní bitky pradedov, nehlási spev ten krivdy susedov, nie bičov sveta hromoplesk: Začrie si do pŕs, ľúbosť zaspieva a poľom svoje žiale rozlieva a nádejí budúci blesk.
Upon our mountains, a young man is standing,
his singing is the flower of his soul;
he is not telling about clashes of the gods, not the beechof an ancient knighthood;
that voice does not ring the battles of the grand-grand fathers,
that singing does not announce the injustice of the neighbours,
not the thundering whips of the world:
He reaches in his chest, sings love
spreading his sorrows around the field
and the lightning of future hopes.
81
A žiale svoje poľom rozlieva, že je svet aj krem otčiny: a bôle svoje poľom previeva, že tam niet jeho dievčiny; do vekov nových hlas jeho letí a blesk úfania z tváre mu svieti. — No ňadrá vernej slovenskej devy k prsiam primkne verný šuhaj; slávne v spievankách zazvonia hnevy: svetom budeš, úzky môj kraj! —
And he‘s spreading his sorrows around the field,
that there is world also apart from the fatherland:
and he’s blowing his pains around the field,
that his maid is not there to be found;
his voice flying into the new ages
and a flash of hope shines on his face. —
But the breasts of the faithful Slovak maid
will meet the chest of the faithful young man;
famous angers will ring in the choirs:
you will be the world, my narrow country! — 82
Ľúbosťou pekná vzdychala si deva, to dušou striaslo šuhaja, ohlas pŕs mladých Sitnom zaznieva a letí do Tatier hája; a veľký háj ten ohlasy zdvojí a na juh a na sever vystrojí, tam znie Uralom, tam morom: a ďalej svetom celým vykročí a spieva lásku s velikým chórom, a zas sa v jej prsia vtočí. —
The beautiful maid uttered sighs of love,
which shattered the soul of the young man,
the echo of young breasts sounds around Sitno
flying to the grove of the Tatras;
And the great grove doubles the echoes
sending them due South and North, there it sounds over Ural, there over the sea: and further it walks through the whole world
singing love with a great choir,
turning back into her breasts. — 83
Dobrú noc; tichý, sladký sen, krásna moja! — Pozdrav pole milé od strán, kde býva ten, nad ktorým čnia snežné Hole! Pozdrav tie vŕby, dom ten celý, v ktorom si prvé lásky strely do pŕs verných mi strelila; pozdrav mi Sitno, kraj ten celý, kde oči po prvé videli tvár, čo mi večne je milá!
Good night; silent, sweet dream,
my beautiful! — Send greetings to the field
at the sides where lives the one,
over whom the snowy Hole are sticking out!
Send greeting to the willows, to the whole house,
where the fired the first shots of love
into my faithful chest;
send greetings to Sitno, the whole country,
where my eyes for the first time saw
the face that I shall love eternally ! 84
Tak dobrú noc! ja za horami zostať mám, kde Hron sa točí, a tešiť sa s nebies hviezdami, so sestrami tvojich očí; keď jedna z nich, čo ráno žiari, pozdraví zore tvojej tvári, rozpomeň sa na lásky moc: A zas, keď mesiac vzlietne bledý, na Hrona breh si spomeň vtedy, spomeň si, drahá! dobrú noc! —
So, good night! I shall stay here
behind the mountains, where Hron is turning, and enjoying the skies with stars,
the sisters of your eyes;
when one of them, the one shining in the morning,
sends greetings to the dawn on your face,
remember the power of love: And again, when the Moon flies up, so pale,
then remind yourself of the bank of Hron ,
remember, my dear! Good night! — 85
Nad rozvinutým púčkom zastala Marína bieloružovým, letačka tmavočervená, malá sadla si k ústam púčkovým: Zore na zlatých horách zastali a svetom diamanty rozosiali, perlami zastreli kvety; a s pompou touto syn húsenky, jak lístok z lipy, k ruži milenky zlietol na klamné zálety.
Marína stood above an open bud
coloured in white and pink,
a small, dark red butterfly
sat down to the mouth of the bud:
The dusk fell upon the golden mountains
and spread diamonds around the world ,
covered the flowers with pearls; and with this fame, the son of caterpillar,
like a leaf from a lime tree, flew down
for deceptive philanders to the rose of the lover
86
Ty si obratnú ruku, predrahá, jak strela za ním vystrela, cifrovaného vernosti vraha už v prstoch svojich s’ videla: Na jeho prášky krásne s’ hľadela a tvár sa tvoja pekne zardela, ľúbilas’ väzňa pekného; — v jeho si zradné oči pozrela a hnevom tvár sa tvoja zastrela, ústa zhrmeli na neho:
With your light fingered hand, my precious,
you reached out for him like a flash,
and you already saw the ornamented
killer of faithfulness in your hands:
You were adoring his beautiful powders
and your face blushed so beautifully,
you loved the handsome prisoner; —
you looked into his treacherous eyes
and your face got shaded with anger,
your lips thundering upon him:
87
Motýľu zradný! srdce ti bije strachom pod prstma mojima; a v ňom sa špatná nevernosť kryje, keď sladkú ružu objíma! Vidíš tie slzy na lícach ruži, čo od svitania bolestne túži po ihrách tvojich láskavých? Ty lietaš, zlodej, od milej k milej a v lakomosti tak bezočivej med kradneš z ústok voňavých.
Treacherous butterfly! Your heart is beating
with fear under my very fingers;
and a nasty unfaithfulness is hiding inside,
when he his hugging the sweet rose!
Can you see the tears on the rose’s cheeks,
(she has been) longing painfully, from the very morning,
longing for your plays, filled with love?
You fly, you thief, from one lover to another
and in your greed that is so reckless
you steal the honey from the scented lips. 88
Čo si nezostal radšej zakliaty v červiaka večnej podobe? Alebo čo si, smrťou oviaty, nezostal v hodvábnom hrobe? Načo zlodeju krása prírody? Načo zradcovi krídla slobody? Podlosť má byť zemeplazom! — Aj ľudská myseľ v tom zablúdila, že ťa byť ona slávnym súdila z mŕtvych povstania obrazom!
Why didn‘t you rather stay cursed
in the eternal form of the worm?
Or why didn’t you, marked by death,
stay in the silky tomb?
Why would a thief need the beauty of nature?
Why would a traitor need wings of freedom?
Wickedness shall be crawling on the ground! —
Even the human mind got strayed here,
judging you as being famous
for the image of resurrection!
89
Tak si ty, verná, pekne horlila nad svojím rabom krídlatým a tvojich ruža líc sa rozvila, ohriata plameňom svätým; ako si krásna, keď krotkosť tichá z ňadier milostných pokojne dýcha na svet nevinné pokoje: Tak si velebná, keď cit tvoj statný vznesie sa mocne v zápal posvätný, šľachetné vedúc rozbroje.
So lovely were you, my faithful,
fulminating against your winged slave
and the rose of your cheeks has opened,
warmed by the holy flame ;
how beautiful are you, when silent submissiveness
is breathing calmly, out of the beloved breasts,
innocent peace upon this world:
So adorable are you, when your mighty emotion
bursts into holy flame,
leading great-hearted strifes.
90
Hnev pomste podlej začasto slúži, hnev závisť mečom ozbrojí, hnev náruživé aj duše súži, hnev aj s zločincom obstojí: Nech ale kričí svet v pokoji, nech počuť nechce o žiadnom boji, nech hynie v mŕtvej porobe! Marínu znajúc, chápem rukama, že hnev svätý je len láska sama, ač v inej ducha podobe.
Anger often serves the wicked revenge,
Anger disarms envy with its sword,
Anger torments also passionate souls,
Anger can stay with a criminal:
But may the world scream in peace,
may it not be willing to hear about any fight,
may it be perishing in dead slavery!
Knowing Marína, I understand with my hands,
that the holy anger is just love itself,
only in a different form of the spirit.
91
„Bohyňa moja, krásy kráľovná! Anjel dobroty, neviny! Perla ľúbosti a Lade rovná! Môj svet, môj poklad jediný! Ty túžba duše, ty nebo slávy! Koruna dievčat, diamant blýskavý! Môj život, nádeja moja! Ľúb ma, potom už bárs celý zhyniem, bárs sa aj v časných svetoch pominiem, zbavím večného pokoja!“
„My goddess, my queen of beauty!
Angel of goodness, innocence!
Pearl of love and equal to Lada!
My world, my only treasure!
You’re the desire of the soul, the heaven of glory!
Crown of the maids, a flashing diamond!
My life, my hope!
Love me, then I may perish totally,
I may go crazy in the ephemeral world,
I may be deprived of the eternal peace!“
92 Takto podlizač, ač v duši jeho prázdnosť sa pustá ozýva, a krv takého planca nízkeho telesnosť hrubá rozrýva: Na ústach jeho posvätné sľuby, a v srdci jeho strely záhuby, a v zrakoch oheň nečistý, po vrchu krása, vnútri hnusota, v prsiach je zrada, v tvári dobrota, inšie cit, hlas inšie istí.
So goes the flatterer, though in his soul
just the forsaken emptiness echoes,
and the blood of such a low rascal
is poisoned with raw materiality:
On his lips, sacred vows,
In his heart, deadly bullets ,
dirty flame in his very eyes,
beauty on the surface, rotten inside,
treachery in his chest,but his face is kind,
emotion is different from his voice.
93 Tu ona mlčí a hviezdne oči sklonia sa v panenskom studu, noha poslušná nabok odkročí, vidiac líškavú obludu: Oko to, v letku na tvár podlahy, padne na prsteň vernosti drahý a stud sa na hnev premení; a strážny anjel, čo sa z nej rodí, kedykoľvek zrak na prsteň hodí, takto jej slová odmení:
She remains silent and her starry eyes
look down in virgin shyness,
obedient foot steps aside,
seeing the flattering beast:
The sight, on its way down to the floor,
falls upon the precious ring of faithfulness
and the shyness turns into anger;
and the guardian angel that she is becoming,
anytime she casts her sight upon the ring,
rewards her words in such a way: 94
Chlape, nemýľ sa! ľúbosť má zraky bystrejšie nad zrak sokola, ačpráve slepých ľúbosti mraky nezmizli ešte dohola: Teraz si sama oči zaviaže, lebo aj tak sa zriedka ukáže úprimný milý a milá; no, ale ľúbosť mojej priateľky oči má jasné a zrak tak veľký, že sa ti na dno prebila.
Man, do not be mistaken! The sight of love is
sharper than the falcon’s sight,
even though the clouds of blind love
have not fully disappeared yet:
Now, she blindfolds herself,
because a faithful lover
shows up very scarcely;
yet the love of my girlfriend
has a clear sight so powerful,
that it has reached your very bottom.
95
Nač sa namáhaš? veď tvoje slová sú podvrštence bláznovské! Jej krása tisíc krás je osnova, jej cnosti — cnosti obrovské! — Slepý ku zlatu slnce prirovná, ale lúč slnca čistá, čarovná len slnca zostane sláva: Tak keď sa špatník na krásu díva, chválami svojimi ju len pozýva a do špatných jej nadáva. —
Why are you striving? Your words
are nothing but foolish lies!
Her beauty of thousand beauties is a warp
her virtues — virtues of greatness! —
A blind compares Sun to the gold,
but the beam of sun remains only
clear, magical glory:
So when a wicked man looks at beauty,
he only invites her with his praises
and calls the beauty ugly names. —
96
Ver’, pravdu ty máš, cherub velebný, ochranca mojej Maríny! Lež zdá sa mi tvoj hnev nepotrebný, nač sú večnosti hodiny? Satan je taká nešťastná vláda, čo sama seba klame, okráda v zlomysli z neba vyhnanej: Čo jej uškodí podlizač planý? Jej cnosť nepojme ani neraní: klam jeho pravdou je na nej!
Yes, you are right, glorious Cherub,
protector of my Marína!
Yet I find your anger unnecessary,
what are the eternal hours for? Satan is such an unhappy government,
that lies to itself and steals from itself,
in the rotten mind, outcast from heaven:
What can an evil flatterer do possibly wrong to her?
He cannot capture or harm her virtue:
his lie becomes truth upon her! 97
A čo, vy spevy, srdcom vysokým obrazy svoje ceníte? Vy zrakom tiež snáď len krivookým veľké na malé meníte! — Nie, ľudia boží, veď krása milá lásku jej mannou cnosti kŕmila, tá i nás chodí kŕmievať: Že hlas náš slabý, samy uznáme, ale úbohé, čo robiť máme? Nám je nemožno nespievať! —
And you, hymns, with high heart
do you value your images after all?
You, too, with your poor cross-eyed sight
change great things into small! —
No, my good people, the lovely beauty
was feeding her love with the manna of virtue,
she comes to feed us, too:
That our voice is week, we do admit,
but poor us, what shall we do?
We cannot help but sing! —
98
V blízkosti tvojej, moja Marína, sto citov z duše mi kypí, k tebe sa život celý pohýna, jak roj včiel k sladkostiam lipy: Ústa mi primrú k rubínom tvojim, myslím si večne, že nerozdvojím prah duše od duše prahu; srdce mi do brán pŕs tvojich bije, lebo tam ono ľúbosťou žije, tam hľadá otčinu drahú.
When I’m close to you, my Marína,
hundreds of emotions overflow my soul,
my whole life moves towards you,
like a swarm of bees towards the sweetness of lime:
My lips will melt with your rubies,
forever thinking that I won’t tear
the threshold of a soul from a soul’s threshold;
my heart is beating against the gates of your breasts,
because it lives with love there,
there it seeks the precious fatherland.
99
Svety závistné medzi nás stali, roztrhli blahé objemy: Čože mohutné časy získali, rozlúčiac nebo od zemi? Láska na zemi nebo stvorila a nás naveky zväzkom spojila, ktorý sa nedá rozlúčiť: Vytrhnúť srdce môž’ osud divý, blesk očí zhasí hrob závistlivý: ľúbosť nemožno umučiť!
Envious worlds stepped between us,
tore the blissful embraces apart:
What have the mighty times gained,
separating the heaven from the Earth?
Love has created heaven on Earth
tied us with a bond forever,
a bond that cannot be torn:
Wild fate may rip out the heart,
envious grave may put out the lightning in the eyes:
but love cannot be tortured to death! 100
Nad mladým čelom zahrmia, zmiznú tône letiacich osudov, do mladých citov bôle zahryznú, nádeje prejdú do bludov: Mládenec, voľ si zo svetiel žitia, pokiaľ ti časy moc neuchytia, hviezdu voľného nadšenia, z ktorej by svätý pablesk jediný cez všetky tvojho žitia krajiny rozlieval svetlo spasenia!
Over young forehead, there thunder and vanish the shades of flying fates,
And pains are biting young emotions,
hopes turn into delusions:
Young man, choose from the lights of living,
until the time takes your power away,
choose the star of free enthusiasm,
of which just a mere holy flash of light would spread the light of salvation! throughout all the countries of yor life
