'Marina' by Andrej Sládkovič (201-291) (English translation - red text)
201
Na lúkach týchto ma vídavala s tebou plná mesiaca tvár, jeden som s tebou tu píjavala blažeností útlych pohár: A keď ťa svety diaľne mi vzali, tie vody hronské na mňa volali, k nim som čo deň chodievala, ony mi boli zrkadlom žitia, a ako slabých mocnosti schytia, tak mňa ony s sebou vzali. —
On these meadows I used to be seen
with you in the face of full moon,
I used to be drinking here from
one tiny glass of bliss:
And when the far worlds have taken you from me ,
the waters of Hron were calling me ,
I used to come there day by day,
they were thee mirrors of my living,
and as the powers grab the weak ones,
so they took me with them. — 202
A tieto vlasy, tie vlákna zlaté, zmenili mi havraniu pleť; a oči vyšším plameňom vzňaté ľudským zrakom vzali obeť; a šaty tieto, hodváby biele, otriasli farby svoje veselé, čelo zastrel veniec biely; a spevy tvoje, ozveny žiaľov, zavrel tam pod tou smútkovou skalou družiek mojich spev veselý.
And this hair of mine, those golden threads,
have changed my raven-like skin;
and my eyes, lit by higher flame
have sacrificed tehir human sight;
and this dress of mine, white silks,
have shaken down their merry colours,
my forehead was veiled by a white wraith;
and your hymns, echoes of sorrows,
were trapped under the rock of sadness
by the merry singing of my fellow maids.
203
Vídal si často na mojej tvári slzu žiaľov tvojej duši, čítal si často v ružovej žiari líc, čo počuť chceli uši: Nemám už sĺz — ach, všetky tie bôle, v ktorých sa lásky rosilo pole, do Hrona som vyplakala, a tie farby z líc tvojej Maríny v slzách sa zmyli, za ne som stíny tieto dávnych krás dostala.
Frequently, you used to see on my face
a tear of the sorrows of your soul,
you used to read in the pink shine
of the cheeks, what your ears wanted to hear:
I have no more tears — ah, all those pains,
that have dewed the field of love,
I have cried into Hron ,
and the colours of your Marína’s cheeks
have faded in tears, for them I have
gotten these hades of old beauties.
204
Kde domov môj? Od Baby-Holi k ostrihomským vrátam Hrona. Znáš kraj ten milý, kde v kvetnom poli rieka táto cestu koná: Rodina moja, rodina švárna, od Tatier našich k hradbám Komárna po Váhu má svoju vládu; a kňažná, pani brehov a vody slovenskej tejto peknej prírody, Drahomíra z Velehradu.
Where is my home? From Babia Gora
to the gates of Hron at Esztergom.
Do you know that lovely country, where in blooming field
this river makes its journey:
My family, beautiful family,
from our Tatras to the walls of Komárno
along the Váh it has its rule;
and the priestess, the lady of shores and waters
of this beautiful Slovak nature,
The Drahomíra of Velehrad. 205
Tam pod Ďumbierom zámok z mramoru kryje vôd tých spenených vier, a štvoro Sirén stráži závoru z alabastru kresaných dvier; a z diamantových mojich oblokov dívam sa do tých strieborných tokov, v ktorých zlatá ryba pláva: Poď so mnou, milý, len teba čaká krás týchto mojich tisícoraká — mne bez teba pustá sláva. —
There, below Ďumbier, a castle of marble
is covering the foamiong waters,
and four Sirens are guarding the lock
of the door carved of alabaster;
and out of my diamond windows
I look into the silvery flows,
in which a golden fish is swimming:
Come with me , dear, as you are awaited
by the glory of my thousands beauties, —
that is nothing to me without you . —
206
Okolo zámku môjho mi zvonia v hlasoch nebies ihry vlnôk, v hlasoch tých všetky krásy Pohronia letia v jeden slastí potok; je to len šplechot a huk zemšťanom, lebo citom sa ku nebešťanom povzniesť nezná nízke plemä: — Poď so mnou, milý, lebo tie zvuky sú pre Vílu len milostné muky, keď hlas tvoj v nich predsa nenie!
Around my castle , there are playful waves in the voices of heavens,
in all the voices of Pohronie
they all merge into one creek of joy;
it is a mere splashing and murmur to the earthly men,
as this low breed is not capable of
ascending to the heavenly emotions: —
Come with me, dear, as those sounds
are but a love torture for the Fairy,
as your voice does not sound in them!
207
V bystrých sa vlahách ráno kúpavam, každá vlnka ma pohladí, na breh ma nosí k zeleným trávam, kde sa srdce rosou chladí; a družky moje hneď sa zanoria, hneď si po bleskoch hladiny dvoria, útechu mi pilno stroja! Poď so mnou, milý — budeš blažený, a blaženejšej nebude ženy ako s tebou Víla tvoja!
In swift waters I use to bathe in the morning,
every wave fondles me ,
bringing me on the bank to the green grass,
where my heart cools down with the dew;
and my fellow maids start playing,
with the flashes glittering on the water level,
working so hard to give me consolation !
Come with me, my dear — you shall be blessed,
and there will be no more blessed woman
as the one with you, your Fairy! 208
Vidíš striebornú tú lúč mesiaca v dvojnom blesku na Hrone tlieť? Perlový člnok — ryba letiaca — v ňom si Víla zvykla letieť; a s hviezdami si o závod lieta, tie svetom neba, tá nebom sveta v ideálnom živle hnutia: Poď so mnou, milý! neplaz sa zemou, poď z týchto večných bolestí snemov tam, kde duše nezasmútia.
Can you see the silver beam of moonlight
double-flashing on the waters of Hron?
A boat of pearls — liek a flying fish —
the Fairy used to fly in it;
flying and racing with stars,
they fly in heavenly world, she flies in world’s heavens
in the ideal element of motion:
Come with me, beloved! don‘t you crawl on earth,
come away from those eternal summonings of pains
come there, where the souls are never sad.
209
Časom si vyjdem na breh čarovný, do tône líp, jelšín chladu, kde tieň jaskyne tichamilovný objímava Živu mladú; družice moje medzi skalami hor’-dol’ s bystrými skáču srnami, mňa len kvet a šum hôr kojí: Poď so mnou, milý, poď v moje svety, čo nám zranili ľudské klebety, to nám sladko svet ten zhojí.
Later I shall walk on the magical bank,
in the shade of limes, coolness of alders,
where a silence-loving shadow of a cave
uses to embrace the young Živa ;
my fellow maids among the rocks
up and down they jump with brisk deer,
I can only be comforted by the blossom and humming of the mountains:
Come with me , beloved, come to my worlds,
what was harmed by human gossips,
that shall be healed sweetly in that world.
210
Počúvaš duté hučanie Hrona? Vieš ty, čo huk ten znamená? To Víla túži, narieka ona od pŕs tvojich odlúčená; a ten môj ohlas brehmi zatriasa, počujú ľudia, blednú, divia sa; — biedni! lásky neznajú zvon: Poď so mnou, milý! to rvanie vody bude hlas srdcí našich slobody, ľúbosť celý zaspieva Hron!
Can you hear the hollow roaring of Hron?
Do you know what that roar means?
It’s the Fairy, longing and crying is she
separated from your chest;
and this echo of mine is shaking the banks,
people hear, turn pale, wonder; —
poor them! They don‘t know the bell of love:
Come with me , beloved. That roaring of waters
shall be the voice of freedom of our hearts ,
the whole Hron shall sing with love! 211
Počúvaš tichý šepot tej rieky? Či vieš, čo šum ten spomína? To sú modliacej lásky náreky, v ktorých mrie Víla-Marína; tiché sa vzdychy tam ozývajú, jeden za druhým preč ubiehajú ta, kde radu držia veky: Poď so mnou, milý! a v šepot citov, ktorým deň nový, deň večný svitol, zmení sa šum tento rieky!
Do you listen to the silent whisper of that river?
Do you know what that whisper remembers?
Those are the cries of praying love,
in which the Fairy-Marína dies;
silent sighs are echoing there,
one after another passing away
there, where the ages hold the rule:
Come with me , beloved! And into whispering of emotions
for which a new day has dawned,
the wild roar of this river shall turn!
212
A keď sa vlnia tie hronské valy, za vodným hrob hrobom pláva; a čím prudkejšie vetry zaviali, tým aj výsosť hrobov vstáva: To vlnenie je beh ňadier Víly, ňadier, ktoré už raz pocítili, že ľúbosť ich svet cudzí má: Poď so mnou, milý! poď, duša moja, nech prsia naše len dych pokoja tíško vlní a nadýma. —
And when the walls of Hron are waving,
one water grave is following another;
and the harder the winds blew,
the higher are getting the graves:
The waves is the motion of Fairy’s breasts,
breasts that once have already felt ,
that their love is held by a strange world:
Come with me, beloved! Come, my soul,
let only the breath of peace
be moving our chests silently . —
213
Vrelosť úst mojich hasia tie vlahy, v ktorých prachu hrudného niet, a oko chodí pre pokrm blahý, v ten tam hviezdnych plameňov svet; zemskej ťažoby Víly neznajú, a keď aj v žiaľoch sladkých zalkajú, nešťastie ich je neba syn: Poď so mnou, milý! nasýť tie hlady, ktoré vodieva s sebou cit mladý, poď, túžba ty mojich vidín! —
The hotness of my lips is cooled by waters, in which there is no earthly dust, and my sight goes to the glorious feast, in the world of starry flames ; The Fairies do not know the earthly heaviness, and even when they sob in sweet sorrows, their bad luck is the son of heavens: Come with me, beloved! Satiate those hungers, which accompany the young emotion, come, you very desire of my visions! — 214
Ten hrmot sveta, ten vresk potreby v podhronský svet neprebije a v driemot ľahkých pokojnom nebi oči moje sen ukryje; a blbotanie tekúcej rosy po snách ma časom blažených nosí, jak detinský spev kolísky: Poď so mnou, milý, lebo bez teba mi je i výsosť tohoto neba len pustá noc, len hrob nízky.
The murmur of the world, the scream of need
cannot reach the lands around Hron
and in the peaceful heaven of light sleep,
a dream shall veil my eyes;
and the noise of dew flowing
is carrying me on blissful dreams,
like singing of children’s lullaby:
Come with me, beloved, for without you,
even the heights of heavens are
but a vast night, a shallow grave.
215
Keď lampa noci plným sa svetlom ponad Pohronie rozleje, ticho je všetko; — v poli zakvetlom len spev svrčka trávou veje, a v diaľke cengá zvonec spiežový driemajúcemu znak pastierovi — lúkmi chodí Víla biela: Poď so mnou, milý, v tej jasnej noci, keď spia prírody slabí otroci, ja by blúdiť s tebou chcela!
When the lamp of the night spills its full light all over Pohronie , everything is silent; — in the blossoming field only a cricket sounds through the grass, and a bell tolls in the distance giving a sign to the sleeping shepherd — the white Fairy is walking the meadows: Come with me, beloved, in the bright night, when the weak slaves of nature sleep, I would love to go astray with you!
216
A na halúzku sadnúť jelšiny a dívať sa v hviezdne brody a na ospalé hľadieť doliny a zhovor viesť s šumom vody, a čo by schladil vetrík večerný, to pozavíňať v objem tvoj verný, aby city nepovädli: Poď so mnou, milý! v tom kolembaní blažiť ťa budem, v zlatom svitaní vítať s tebou deň omladlý! —
And sit down on the alder branch
and look at the starry skies
and look at the sleepy valleys
and talk to the water flowing,
and what would get cold by the evening breeze,
I’d have wrapped up in your faithful embrace,
so that the emotions won’t wither:
Come with me, beloved! Cherish you, swaying,
I shall bring you joy, in golden dawn,
and welcome with you the day revived! — 217
Nejdeš? — nejdeš, chlapec zmámený žitia svojho podlým svetom! Nejdeš v náruč nešťastnej ženy, ľúbosť nie ti je podnetom! Mlčíš a kloníš na prsia hlavu, akobys’ vypil horkú otravu v rečí mojich sladkom toku! — Začúchla Víla, strelila Víla zrakom blesku naň — tvár odvrátila, „zbohom!“ — a zmizla v potoku.
You‘re not coming? — no, you boy, deluded
with the cowardly world of his life!
You are not coming into the arms of unfortunate woman,
not even love motivates you!
You remain silent and bow your head down,
as if you drank a bitter poison
in the sweet dripping of my talk! —
The Fairy went silent, the Fairy shot
a flash of her eye upon him — she turned away, „Goodbye!“ — and she disappeared in the creek.
218
Zašplechli vody a z bielej peny „Poď so mnou, milý!“ len šumí, a mládenec ten jak prebudený načúva v tie hronské dumy; a obraz ten mu k očiam prirástol, prirástol k srdcu ťažkou boľasťou, a bolesť mu zavrela reč; máta ho čosi — ale je vo dne! Prikovaný je, stojac slobodne, ani tam byť, ani ísť preč. —
The waters splashed, and from thee white foam „Come with me, beloved!“ can be heard,
and the young man, as if awakened
is listening to the thoughts of Hron;
and that image is in front of his eyes,
merged with the heart in heavy pain, and pain has closed his lips;
something haunts him — yet it is daylight!
He is chained, yet standing free,
neither to be there, nor go away. —
219
Mlčal on, ale v duši búchali búry divej ťažké hromy, a stúpal ďalej k skale od skaly, cesty pravej nevedomý: Tak je to, keď sa človek s anjelom a duch nesmrtný so zemským telom a svet jeden s druhým druží! Načo sa božstvo v ľudskosť oblieka! Načo len múti srdce človeka! Načo nebo zem tú súži!
He was silent,but in his soul
the thunders of a wild storm were raging,
and he kept walking up, from rock to rock,
not being aware of the right path:
This is what happens, when a human and an angel,
an immortal spirit with an earthly body,
and one world plays with another!
Why does the divine dress in humanity?!
Why does it stir a man’s heart?!
Why do heavens torment this earth?! 220
Ale pochybnosť z prsov šuhaja jak ranná hmla odstupuje, do zasvätencov jasného kraja vyššia moc ho pohybuje: Pukne v ňom srdce ľudského syna — ako vriaceho, mladého vína plný — temnica sily — sud! a krv do bledej vyhrčí tvári a duch mládenský v ňom sa rozjarí a vydýchne: zmožený blud!
But the doubt leaves the young man‘s chest
like the morning fog,
into the bright land of the consecrated
a higher power is moving him :
The heart of son of man cracks
inside him — like a keg that is full
of boiling, young wine
and blood rushes into pale face
and the young spirit goes merry
and breathes out: delusion defeated !
221
Zbohom, Siréna! zbohom, dievčina spiacich tých milých mi vĺn! Šuhaju! tebou vládne otčina, sľub a zákon verne vyplň! — Vo svet neznámy s neznámou Vílou, bárs sladkohlasou, bárs lícomilou, v hrtan pustiť sa chladných vôd? — Je Hron môj obraz môjho národa, ale obraz ten predsa len voda, a duch je slovenský národ! —
Goodbye, Sirene! Goodbye, maid
of the sleeping waves so lovely to me!
Young man! Your fatherland rules you,
faithfully keep the promise and law! —
Into unknown world with unknown Fairy,
even if sweet-voiced, even if lovely-faced,
and drown in the throat of cold waters? —
If Hron is the image of my nation,
yet that image is still just waters,
and the Slovak nation is a spirit! —
222
A ľúbosť? — Ľúbosť k deve umrela, keď umrela moja deva: milenka hlasom človečím pela, Siréna tá divno spieva: Žeiale poznané za slasť neznámu dať a skutočnosť za tôňu klamu? To osud môj nekáže mi: Víla! ty zostaň tam v svojom nebi — mňa ešte zemské viažu potreby —
And love? — Love for the maid has died,
when my maid has died:
my lover sang with human voice,
but Sirene, she sang oddly:
To trade my known sorrows for joys unknown
reality for the shade of delusion?
My fate does not tell me to do so:
Fairy! You stay there in your heaven —
I am still bound by earthly needs —
and my homeland is on earth!
223
Keď oči tieto zatieni úmor a zastane mi srdca buch, od slovenských sa odoberiem hôr, tak pozná tam ťa ducha duch; zatiaľ navštívim i tieto trávy každý deň a tie pamiatky slávy slávnej krásy chcem spomínať; budem aj v člne Hronom sa nosiť a lós tvoj slzou útrpnou rosiť, ale čln zas s brehom spínať.
When these eyes will be veiled by tiredness
and the beating of my heart stops,
I shall depart from the Slovak mountains,
so the spirit shall recognize you there
in between, I also visit these pastures
every day, also the monuments of glory
of the famous glory I want to remember;
I shall be rowing on a boat down the Hron
and casting my tears over your destiny,
yet I shall tie the boat to the firm ground.
224
A čo ten zákon vernosti mojej! Odpustiť svetu jeho hriech, že skazil blaho ľúbosti dvojej a krásam tým spravil posmech? — Nie, ty si padla v žitia biede a pomstiť sa na žitia jede povinnosť ma moja viaže! Ľúbil som ľúbosť len samu v tebe, a mráz v ľúbosti a ľúbosť v chlebe karhať — to mi ľúbosť káže! —
And what about the law of my faithfulness?!
Shall I forgive the world its sin,
that it has spoiled the bliss of two lovers
and turned thous beauties in vain? —
No, you have fallen in the misery of life,
and my duty obliges me to take revenge
upon the poison of the living!
I have only loved the sole love in you,
and frost in love and love in bread
upbraid! — that§s what love orders me! —
225
Uvrznúť svetu, syn strachu plachý? Víťazstvo mu bez boja dať? Učila dieťa potupiť strachy, učila ho slovenská mať! Keď padnem i ja v galibách sveta, nech si tam potom vo tmách zastretá zvoní života hodina: Keď som ťa preznal, tajomná Víla, odpusť — nemôže tu ľudská sila prezrieť rady Hospodina! —
Hide from the world, you bashful son of fear?
Grant it the victory without fighting?
The child was taught to get over its fears,
taught by the Slovak mother!
Even when I fall in the miseries of the world,
may then the hour of life toll
covered in the darkness:
When I recognized you, secret Fairy,
forgive me — but here, no human force
can reveal the plans of Hospodin! — 226
Tak zbohom! — Zase šuhaj sa brodí po brehoch Hrona rodinných; sviatočné slnce slávne vychodí spoza mrakov, z krajov iných: Na veniec hľadí mládenec tichý, akoby liečne kvetov kalichy prezeral ranám k obleve; a zas sa očma nesie k oblakom, akoby bôľno mladým tým zrakom bolo hniť v zemskosti pleve! — —
So farewell! — Again, the young man is wading
on the banks of Hron, so familiar;
ancient festive sun rises gloriously
from behind the clouds, from different lands:
A young man, silent, looks at the garland,
as if he was looking for the healing
flowers to soothe his wounds; and there he looks into the sky,
as if it was too painful for his young sight
rotting down here in the earthly chaff. - - 227
Čertovou svadbou dažde sa lejú, jakby sa pretrhol oblak, po Holiach celých hromy sa sejú a seje ich zázračný mrak; jedle práskajú, trieskajú duby, a krížom-krážom svetlá záhuby zahanbujú mesiaca tvár, blysk za blyskom si ruky podáva, zdá sa ti, svetom že celým pláva vlniaci sa blkom požiar.
The rains are pouring in a devil’s wedding,
as if the cloud tore apart,
upon the hills, thunders are roaring
sowed by a miraculous cloud;
the fir threes bending, oak trees crashing,
the lights of doom all across
are putting the moon’s face to a shame,
lightning shakes hands with another lightning,
and it seems to you, that the whole world
is set aflame in burning waves.
228
Navrchu hory skala široká, tristocentová skalina, okolo tejto priepasť hlboká a hustá, tmavá jedlina: a z tej jedliny roj sa vyvalí na okrúhlinu tľapkavej skaly zázračno-spanilých dievok a letkom vlajú kol a dokola a spevom hromová Hoľa a ku spevu oblohy tok.
Atop the mountain is a wide rock,
three hundred cents in weight,
around it, a deep, deep abyss
as thick as a dark forest:
And from that forest, a swarm flies out
to the rounded, flattened top of the rock
a swarm of miraculously graceful maids
and they are flying around in a circle
and the hills are singing thunderously
and the skies join their choir. 229
A vlasy ich sú letiace vlákna, vlákna zlaté na slobode, a ich odevy z tenkého plátna, bieleného v hronskom brode; z očí im strieľa duša ohnivá a každým hnutím búrlivo kýva rozdráždená, zúfalá slasť: Či blaženosť to, či muky pekla? Aká tie duše vášeň rozvliekla? Čo je lós ich, kde je ich vlasť? —
And their hair is just floating threads,
threads of gold in free flight,
and their clothes made of thin canvas,
whitened in a ford on Hron;
fiery soul shooting out of their eyes
and in every motion, there passionately waves
an ardent, desperate delight:
Is it bliss, or are these torments of hell?
What kind of passion moves these souls?
What is their fate, where is their homeland? —
230
Ale v divom sa zhone len krútia na hladine skalnej Víly, ich hlasy horou tmavou sa rútia, skadiaľ tie sa vyrútili: Chvojky lipové v rukách lietajú, tou belosťou šiat sa prepletajú a zlatom tých dlhých vlasov; a v divom skoku Víly sa krútia a s hrmením sa oblohy mútia hlaholy tie vílnych hlasov.
But in a wild turmoil, they swirl
on the water level of the rocky Fairy,
their voices rush through the dark forest,
back where they have come from:
Branches of lime waving in their hands,
braided with the whiteness of their clothes
and with the gold of their long hair;
and in a wild whirls of the Fairy they swirl
and with thunders, the skies get darkened
the sounds of fairy-like voices.
231
A tá tma hory — ten huk víchrice — to zvonenie ťažkých hromov — ten bledý pohľad hviezdy cárice — ten spev dievok — ten šum stromov — tá podnebeská Hole výšava — tých ohňov nebies strašlivá sláva — výskot, čo ples devíc zrodil — tie valy postáv nocoblúdivých — hra vlasov zlatých — let sukieň sivých — hoj, v jednote aký to div!
And the darkness of the forest — the roar of stormwinds —
That heavy thunder’s toll —
That pale look of the Tzar star —
That singing of maids — hissing of trees —
That heavenly height of the hills —
That tremendous glory of the heavenly fires —
screams coming from a ball of maids —
those shapes of silhouettes, strayed in the night —
the games of golden hair — The flight of grey skirts —
hey, what a wonder that is in unity! 232
Ale od dolín Hrona skalného hor’ tiahne devíc inší chór, náhlia na krídlach skoku valného a zázračný ich je pozor; šat ich fenická farbí purpura a vlasy zlaté roznáša búra kol hrdla, pliec, stranou líca: a v ich prostriedku diadém zlatý, stozáhybové s povlakom šaty: to Dobroslava králica.
But from the valleys of the rocky Hron a different choir of maids ias walking up, rushing on the wings of a mighty jump and their appearance is magic; their clothes coloured by the purple of Phoenicia and their golden hair blown by the storm around the neck, the shoulders, upon the face: and in the middle, a dieadem of gold, and noble clothes with hundred folds: that‘s Dobroslava, the queen. 233
Už sú na hore Čertovej svadbe. Či satanskú svadbu slávia? Či tí anjeli sú v dákej kliatbe, ako ľudia o nich vravia? — Ony sa ľúbia, hladia, vítajú, do spoločného tanca sa dajú, a spev jeden v nich sa dvojí: a hromy stíchnu, vetry zamĺknu, len blesky nebies tu i tu zbĺknu a spev v kole devíc stojí:
Are they up there at the devil‘s wedding.
Or are they celebrating a satanic wedding?
Are those angels under a curse,
as the people say about them? —
They love each other, fondle, greet,
in mutual dance they move their feet,
and one hymn in them splits in two:
and thunders vanish, winds stop blowing,
only the lightnings of heavens keep on flashing
and there goes the hymn in a circle of maids:
234
V ľahký skok, voľné družice, v nás zeme bôľ večne čuší! V let voľný, Tatier orlice, kŕdeľ večne mladých duší! Krásny je kvet, krásna zora, krásny špľachot bystrej vody, krásna je zelená hora, krásny let šumnej slobody: a v krásach tých krásu spieva svetu napriek voľná deva.
Dance around lightly, my free maids,
earthly sorrow is forever silent in us !
Fly high, you Eagles of Tatras,
a flock of souls eternally young!
Beautiful is the flower, pretty is the morning glow,
beautiful splashing of a swift creek,
beautiful is the green forest,
beautiful is the flight of true freedom:
and in those beauties, she sings beauty
the free maid, despite the world. 235
Víly Hrona, Víly Váhu! Deň svadby a rozlúčenia! Pime dvojej slasti vlahu, vzkriesenia a umučenia! Družka s druhom podľa neba vedie čistej svadby snemy, ale dušiam blahým treba rozlúčenia podľa zemi: ľúbosti večnej vzkriesenie, lásky časnej umučenie! —
Fairies of Hron, Fairies of Váh!
The day of the wedding and parting !
Let us drink the dew of double joy,
the resurrection and torture!
A man and woman, according to the heaven,
are having sessions of pure wedding,
but the merry souls do need
to take part in earthly terms:
eternal love is resurrected,
love bound by the time is tortured! —
236
Pime dvojej slasti vlahu medzi zemou, medzi nebom, víťazstvo čistému blahu nad mizerným sveta chlebom! My spájame, čo svet dvojí, my vlažíme, čo svet suší, my dvojíme, čo svet spojí, my tvoríme, čo svet ruší: sláva na Tatrách, Urpíne, kňažnej hronských Víl, Maríne!
Let us drink the dew of double joy
between earth and heaven,
victory to the sheer bliss
over the miserable bread of the world!
We connect what the world parts,
we water what the world dries,
we part what the world connects,
we create wha the world terminates:
Glory on the Tatras and the Urpín,
to the duchess of the Fairies of Hron, Marína!
237
Tak spev. Ale Víl pekná králica netancuje a nespieva, a tvárou sa jej z líca na líca žiaľ kýsi tajný prelieva: Sedí na skale v jedľovej tôni, korunné čelo ku ňadrám kloní, ku ňadrám búrno zvlneným; zdá sa, že hrôzy stíchlej víchrici do pŕs sa zamkli tichej devici s citom prudko roztúženým.
Singing. But the pretty queen of the Fairies
is neither dancing nor singing,
and from one cheek to another on her face
a secret sorrow spills: She is sitting on a rock in the shade of firs,
bowing her crowned head down to her breasts,
to her breasts waving with storm ;
it seems that dreads of the hurricane that went still
have locked into the silent maid’s breasts
with her emotion so ardently longing. 238
Podľa nej sedí tá Dobroslava, čo kňažná je devíc Váhu, jej skvostná ruka, jej ruka pravá objíma družicu drahú; a z úst jej, v slávnom čo Velehrade v lipových chládkov velebnom sade sladili rty Mojmírove, z úst tých vylieva potechy vlahu na dušu družky, na dušu drahú, v účastlivom, vernom slove:
Next to her, there is Dobroslava,
she is the leader of the maidens of Váh,
her graceful hand, her right hand
hugs one of her dear maiden firends;
and from her lips, which were sweetening
the lips of Mojmír, in the lime shades
at the famous Velehrad in the glorious gardens,
from those lips, she sprinkles the dew of comfort
upon the soul of her friend, upon her very soul,
speaking with sympathy and faith:
239
Nemárni slzy, družica moja! Nemuč srdce milé Bohu! Nebúr tíšiny môjho pokoja, netráp sestry bez osohu! Na môj že osud spomeň si divý! jak my s Mojmírom bývali živí, nešťastní vždy a šťastliví: Nitra sa triasla — my sme padali — pravou sme rukou vraha rúbali, ľavou srdcia objímali!
Don‘t waste your tears, my dear friend!
Do not tirture the heart loved by God!
Don’t disturb the stillness of my peace,
don’t trouble your sisters without a purpose!
Just remember my own wild fate!
Me and Mojmír, we used to be alive,
always unfortunate and happy: Nitra was shaking — we were falling —
chopping the murderer with the right hand,
embracing the hearts with the left !
240
Pohronská Víla nezdvihla oči, Víla pohronská len mlčí; po čele jej sa chladný mrak točí a v duši jej prudko blčí: Len vyššia viera ňadrá jej spína, keď na svet padlý sa rozpomína a keď váži deň budúci. — Čo ti je, drahá? — tak Dobroslava, lež odpovede inšej nedáva, len to: „Neviem“ — duch horúci.
The Fairy of Hron did not lift her sights,
The Fairy of Hron remains silent;
cold cloud is turning on her forehead
flaming fiercely in her soul:
Only the higher belief holds her breasts,
when she remembers the fallen world
and when she thinks of the next day. —
What’s up with you, dear? — so Dobroslava,
does not give any other answer,
but this: „I don‘t know“ — in a hot breath. 241
Horkýže neviem. Známe hodiny, kde neznámy žiaľ nás marí; známe hodiny, kde zas cit iný sladkostí sto pre nás varí; známe hodiny, v ktorých nadšenie, strach, túžba, nádej, tušenie zahmlia život nášho žitia: To ouvertúry vyšších dňov viery, cez ktoré k veľkej nebies opery hlasy božské nás uchytia. —
And yet I know. Known are those hours,
in which an unknown sorrow is killing us;
known are those hours, in which another emotion
cooks for us hundreds of sweets;
known are those hours, in which enthusiasm,
fear, longing, hope and reckoning
veil our lives we live in fog:
The overtures of higher days of faith,
in which the divine opera voices
shall carry us through. —
242
Obrazy samé po stenách sveta, po srdciach ľudstva vidíme; či to skutočnosť, či len klebeta? Či sme hor’, či to len sníme? — Na tých obrazoch farby sa menia, farby sú tôní ľahkých stvorenia, tône sú deti miznutia: No čo v obrazoch dejín sa zjaví, lebo čo duša v obrazoch vraví, to nezná svet zabudnutia. —
On the walls of the world are paintings,
as well as in the hearts of humanity;
is it real, or just a mere gossip?
Are we awake, or are we dreaming? —
On those paintings, the colours change,
colours are creations of light shades,
the shades are children of disappearance:
But what appears in those paintings of history,
and what the soul is telling in images,
that does not know the world of forgetting. —
243
Na Sitne stojí — ha! sny a klamy! — Nie — skutočnosť je to ducha. — Na Sitne stojí mládenec známy a známa jemu mladucha: Na čelá blesky krásy primreli, srdcia sa v pokoj svätý zavreli, oči slzou lásky zvreli; zo sĺz kastalské vznikly pramene, zo srdcí kvetín rajských korene, z čiel jasných nebies plamene.
Standing upon the Sitno — Oh! Dreams and delusions! —
No — it is the reality of the spirit. —
A familiar young man is standing on Sitno
and his young bride is familiar to him:
The lightnings of beauty frozen on their foreheads,
their hearts enclosed in holy peace,
their eyes soaked with tears of love;
springs of inspiration became their tears,
their hearts became roots of heavenly flowers,
heavenly flames out of their foreheads . 244
Na Sitne milý a milá stojí a ruka ruku si stíska, na výšinách sú oba v pokoji, dolinou pod nimi blýska: a on prerečie: Slávno je, drahá, dívať sa z výšin ľudského blaha v biedne nízkosti pohromy. — A ona: Ale ešte slávnejšie spustiť sa z výšin v stavy biednejšie a zdusiť ľudstva Sodomy! —
Up there on Sitno lovers are standing
holding each other’s hands,
they are both calm up in the heights,
the valley underneath is flashing:
and he says : Glorious it is, my dear,
looking from the heights of human bliss
down to the poor earthly disasters. —
She says: But still more glorious is
going down from the heights into the unfortunate states and uproot the Sodomas of the mankind! — 245
Kroky sa pohnú z obrovskej skaly k nížinám chalúp machnatých. Ale ich duše voľné lietali velebno v nadšeniach svätých; jak na kyj verný ruka pastiera, tak útlosť devy sa podpiera na silné druha rameno. — No či skutočne, či sa mi sníva? Milý! či horou sa neozýva i tvoje i moje meno?
Steps walk from the giant rock
down to the log-houses embraced with moss.
Yet their souls were flying free
blissfully in sacred enthusiasm;
as the shepherd’s hand leans on his stick,
so does the subtlety of the maid lean
upon her lover’s strong arm. —
But is that real, or am I dreaming?
My dear! isn‘t the forest echoing
the names of you and I?
246
Či to len vetry severné dujú? Či ktosi o pomoc volá? Či sa družice moje žartujú? Či Víly vábia dokola? — Nie sú to vetry búrne severa, nikoho zbojník tu neoberá, tri ráz to znova zaznelo; družice moje sa neprechodia, Víly sa v chvíľach týchto nevodia, čos’ inšie byť to muselo.
Is that the northern wind blowing?
Is that somebody calling for help?
Are that my fellow maids joking?
Or is it t he luring of the Fairies? —
These are not the mighty northern winds,
nobody is being robbed by a robber,
it sounded again three times;
My fellow maids are not walking,
The Fairies don’t fly at this time,
it must have been something else. 247
A z húšte švárna mladucha kročí s náručím láskou rozpätým, sláva nesmrtných svieti jej z očí a s kľúčom hrá ruka zlatým. Pleť jej hodvábna z vábneho čela na prsia biele vážne zletela,
pokoj na líci jej býva, na ústach sedí jej zvest veselý, a jej postavu driečnu šat biely v šumiacich zhyboch pokrýva.
And from the bushes, the young bride walks out
stretching her arms with love,
the glory of the immortal shines from her eyes
her hand is playing with a golden key.
The silky skin on her lovely forehead
flew down seriously to her pale breasts,
there‘s peace in her face,
a marry message is sitting on her lips,
and her pretty body is covered
by a white dress with rustling folds. 248
Marína stŕpla. A divná deva vždy blíž a bližšie sa blíži: Neboj sa, drahá, čo sa odieva v toľko krás, nám neublíži. — Zázračná k milým samým prikročí, oboch objatím divným otočí a v oboch srdce zahorí, a oba v nemom dive zastali, jakby čarovným prútom dostali, a Drahomíra hovorí:
Marína froze. A strange lady is
coming closer and closer to her:
Don’t be afraid, dear, for what is dressed in
so many beauties, shall not harm us. —
Magical, she approaches the lovers,
she wraps them both in a mystical embrace and in both, their hearts go aflame,
and they both stood in astonishment,
as if they were struck my by a magic wand,
and Drahomíra says:
249
Na svety kosec šedivý chodí a mŕtve životy kosí, poľom žitia sa kostlivec brodí, darmo ho i mladosť prosí: čas do večnosti časy preváža, Morena krehké životy zráža, na vrahov chodia katovia; čo kosa kosí, to padne, zvädne, čo tieň objíme, to večne schladne: toto sú moji sluhovia! —
A grey reaper is coming to the worlds
taking away the dead lives,
through the field of life, the skeleton is wading,
he has no mercy with youth:
time transports times to eternity, Morena is taking away fragile lives,
hangmen come for the murderers;
what the scythe cuts, it falls and withers,
what the shadow embraces turns eternally cold:
these are my servants! — 250
Ja som ich pani a slúžka Boha, k blaženým anjel blažený, ku sláve viesť je moja úloha, komu lós tento určený. Kľúč zlatý zlaté otvára brány; šťastní, prešťastní, čo jak poddaní zákonom svätým slúžili! — Poďte, priatelia moji, ku večnej kráse, po ktorej v túžbe srdečnej ľúbosti vaše túžili! —
I am their mistress, and the servant of God,
to the blissful comes the angel of bliss,
my role is to lead those to the glory,
whose destiny that shall be.
A key of gold opens golden gates;
blessed are those who even if subdued
were serving the holy laws! —
Come, my friends, to the eternal
beauty that was so cordially desired
by your mutual love! — 251
A milenci sa pevno objali, krem lásky nič necítili, z očí im zmizli sitnianske skaly, jakby ich veky schytili. Žiadnych tu vrchov, žiadnej doliny, žiadnych tu rokov, žiadnej hodiny, len z veže padali tóny. A i tie zvony v diaľkach odzneli — uši ohluchli, ústa znemeli — tá zmizla a — zmizli oni. —
And the lovers embraced each other firmly,
they felt nothing but love,
the rocks of Sitno disappeared from their sights,
as if the ages wiped them away.
There are no mountains, no valleys here,
there are no years, no hours,
only tones, falling from the tower.
And even those bells tolled in the distance —
ears went deaf, lips went silent —
she disappeared and — so have they. —
252
Jaskyňa temná — skalnaté steny — tichosť jej pani, pán pokoj; mach mladý s dlážkou skalnou zrastený — milý, milá! to paplón tvoj! — Ústa sa od úst milých nelúčia — náručie sa nepúšťa náručia — hýbania tu žiadneho niet: Len v tvárach blahú vidieť nádeju a v dušiach tichých príjemne tlejú rozpomienky na zhaslý svet. —
A dark cave –– rocky walls —
silence is its lady, peace is its lord;
young moss merged with the rocky floor —
my dear, my beloved, it is your bed! —
Her lips are not parting her lover’s lips —
they both merge in embrace —
there is no motion here:
Only a blissful hope in their faces
and in their silent souls, there are small fires
of memories from the past world. — 253
Ktože to tam spí? Mŕtvi, či živí? — Ni posteľ, ani mohyla. — Tu z bludu svitá úkaz pravdivý, tú mŕtva láska ožila; tu v snách smrteľných nesmrtnosť drieme, títo už vedia, čo my nevieme, im slnce nové vychodí; títo v objatí lásky ustali, zemských ľúbostí zdroj vyčerpali, ľúbosť ich znova sa rodí. —
Who is sleeping there? The dead or the living? —
it’s neither bed nor a grave. —
Here the delusion turns into pure truth,
Here, the dead love has revived;
Here, in mortal drams, immortality is sleeping,
and they all know what we still don’t ,
they see a new sun rising;
these have rested in the embrace of love,
having emptied the source of earthly loving,
and their love is being reborn. —
254
Zhrčala trúba! — rty sa hýbajú; — zhrčala! — oči prezreli; — zhrčala! — nové údy vstávajú, keď hlasy „Vstaňte!“ zazneli. — Milenci vstali: vstalým sa javí cherub vzkriesenia v zorách oslavy, prst jasný vpravo ukáže: Tam zlatá brána — za ňou blesk slávy — priezračnosť svojej rajskej postavy zrak milých na seba viaže.
A trumpet whirred! — the lips are moving; —
whirred! — the eyes saw through; —
whirred! — new limbs are rising,
when the voices are saying „Rise!“ —
The lovers have risen: and they see
a Cherub of resurrection in the dawns of glory,
his finger points to the right:
There is a golden gate — flash of glory behind —
his translucent heavenly silhouette
catcjhes the sights of the lovers . 255
Ústa sa pohnú; milý hovorí: Dobrý deň, moja predrahá! Tisíc krás nových od teba zorí a jedna druhú premáha: Ťahy, čo vlastnú krásu ti dali, v celosti svojej síce zostali, ale blesk nový dostali. — Tak poďme, drahá, v nové životy, v životov nových nové dobroty, do všetkých dobrôt jednoty.
The lips are moving; her lover says:
Good day to you, my most precious!
Thousands of new beauties shine from you
one is bigger than another:
The traits that gave you your own beauty,
have remained in their wholeness,
yet they have a new spark of light. —
So let us go, dear, to meet the new lives,
to meet the new joys in these lives,
in the unity of all joys. 256
Maj sa mi dobre, ty hora zlatá, ty pekný vrch mojej duši, pamiatka tvoja bude mi svätá, tú vek žiaden mi nezruší. Koľko ráz som zrak k sebe zvýšila, všetka sa búrka žitia stíšila, vidiac tvojej výšiny moc; a keď som na tvoj vrchol zastala, o veľkostiach som malá snívala: no, Sitno moje, dobrú noc!
Be farewell, you golden mountain,
you beautiful peak of my soul,
your memory shall remain sacred to me,
no times can wipe it away.
How many times have I looked upon you,
all the storms of life have calmed,
in front of the power of your heights;
And when I stood on your peak,
I dreamed about greatness while I was little:
well, my dear Sitno, have a good night!
257
Dobrú noc, Hron môj! ty druh srdečný mládeneckých mojich citov! Na brehoch tvojich v prsiach mi večný kvietok ľúbosti rozkvitol: a v behu prudkom krištáľnej vody čítal som často slávy zárody a mohutných duchov koľaj. Veštec! pri tvojom som blbotaní sedával v tajnom, čarovnom zdaní: ale teraz — dobre sa maj! —
Have a good night, dear Hron! you cheerful friend
of my youthful emotions!
Upon your banks, the eternal flower
of love has blossomed in my chest:
and in the fierce run of crystal-clear waters
I have seen sparkles of glory
and the images of mighty spirits.
Soothsayer! I remember I used to sit
next to your murmuring waves,in my secretive,
magical dreaming: but for now — fare well! —
258
Zbohom! ty ľud môj, ľud môj ľúbený, vyšších letov mojich predmet! Zbohom, pamätaj, že máš sľúbený duchom svetov bezmierny svet: ja duchom tebou večne prejatým s tebou chcem túžiť k ideám svätým a s tebou tam i tu bývať; syn tvoj chce žialiť tvoje žialenie a na síl tvojich víťazné vrenie s vrelým sa nadšením dívať!
Goodbye! My folks, my beloved people,
the subject of my higher flights!
Goodbye, and remember that you were promised
an immense world of the spirit:
my spirit is always filled with you
with you, I want to be longing for the sacred ideas,
to live with you here and there;
your son wants to be sad when you’re sad
and with boiling enthusiasm, he is going to observe
the victory of your powers! 259
Ešte sa, drahá, na svet obzrime, ľúbosti našej hospodu, ešte si na zem jeho spomnime pri okamihu rozchodu: Na jej sme prsiach sladko snívali, na jej sa krásy často dívali, v nej prvé zachľupli slasti. Je svet ten predsa smrteľným milý, bárs duše často v ňom zablúdili, bárs trpkých vlasť je boľastí! —
Let’s look at the world, my dear,
look again at our love,
let us remember its soil
when we’re parting:
We dreamed sweet dreams upon her breasts,
we were frequently observing her beauties,
and we drank from her cup of joys for the very first time.
And still, that world is loved by mortals,
even though the souls frequently went astray,
and despite it is the homeland of bitter pains! —
260
Pamätáš, moja, tie tiché mraky? Pamätáš dni tie ružové? Pamätáš lúk tých jarné zázraky? Pamätáš chládky lipové? Pamätáš tamtie nebeské doby, v ktorých utíchli srdca žaloby a nebo na zem zvábili? Pamätáš na tie duše spanilé, ktoré mám vždycky tak boli milé a jedno s nami cítili? —
Do you remember, dear, those silent clouds?
Do you remember those rosy days?
Do you remember the spring miracles on the meadows?
Do you remember the cool shades of limes?
Do you remember those heavenly times,
in which the laments of the heart went still
and lured the heavens down to earth?
Do you remember those graceful souls,
that were always so kind to us
and felt the same we did? —
261
Počuj, môj! — či to anjeli Sláve zastaveniečko dávajú? Či to dôstojné organy práve nebies Hospodinu hrajú? — Nie je to bitých strún nariekanie, byť sa to nezdá píšťal hučanie, nie to strún hladených spevy: To sú tie čisté hlasy étera, v ktoré prst večných cností zaviera súzvukov rajských výlevy!
Listen, dear! — are these the angels,
singing for the Glory?
Or is this the true heavenly organ
playing for Hospodin? —
It is not a lament of beaten strings,
neither does it seem to be the whirring of reeds,
nor are these strings that are fondled:
These are the pure ethereal voices,
in which the finger of eternal virtues
encloses the outpour of heavenly chords! 262
Láska nebeská je vetrík juha, duše sú strunky strieborné, rám tých strún pekná večnosti dúha, blesky strún blesky sú zorné: Vetrík ľúbosti duše previeva a súzvuk citov útlych zaznieva od vekov pólu do póla, a pokoj neba len šum ten ruší, keď spieva osud blažených duší tá večná harfa Eola.
Heavenly love is the southern breeze,
souls are the silver strings,
frame of the strings is a nice rainbow of eternity,
the flashes of the strings are the flashes of morning glow:
the wind of love breezes through the souls
and an accord of subtle emotions sounds
eternally, from pole to pole,
and heavenly peace is only disturbed by that sound,
singing the fate of blissful souls
on the eternal Aeolus’s harp.
263
Tie pekné tône so svetlom hrajú na poli snežnej belosti, jak cesty krížom svet prebiehajú, tak dúhy tieto výsosti. Na čomže sedia? na nebi, morách, na lícach, lúkach, na hradoch, horách? To vlastnosť zeme mizernej! — Nebeské farby duší obleky. — Ale, druh môj! svet tento ďaleký farby sa nezdá mať čiernej? —
Those pretty shades are playing with light
in the snow-white field,
like the roads are crossing the world ,
so are these the rainbows of heavens.
What do they rest upon? In the sky, on seas,
upon cheeks , meadows, at castles, in forests?
That’s a feature of miserable earth! —
Heavenly colours, dressing the souls . —
But , my fellow, doesn’t this distant world
seem to be coloured in black? —
264
Družka! tu ľúbosť svieti nevinná, tu je nádeja zelená, svetlá sa nebom jasnosť pohýna, tu láska vládne červená, tu zlatý oheň v obetiach horí, tu i fialka kvitne pokory, i ruža citu útleho: ale noci tu nemáš hrobovej, tu duše driemu v tôni ružovej, v speve vetríka šumného. —
My dear! Here, the innocent love shines,
here the hope is green,
clarity of light moving through the skies,
here, the red love rules,
here, golden flames are burning in offerings,
and violets of humility are flowering,
as well as roses of subtle emotion:
but there is no gravely night,
here, the souls are dreaming in the shade of roses,
while the pretty wind sings. — 265
Vy, v dolách stínov ešte žijúci, radu priateľa prijmite! Verte v ľúbosti Eden žiadúci, láskou sa k láske zažnite! Jedno to, či sa v devu zaľúbiš, či srdce svoje sláve zasľúbiš, či vied ťa zajme obloha, či národu svojmu zasvätíš, či v objem šíry ľudstva zaletíš: len zaľúb vo všetkom Boha!
You, who are still living in the valleys of shadows,
take this friendly advice of mine !
Believe in the Eden of Love,
light up your love for love!
No matter if you fall for a maid,
or if you devote your heart to the glory,
or if you are captured by the skies of science,
whether you devote yourself to your nation,
or if you fly into the wide embrace of humankind:
just love God in everything! 266
Boh náš je láska, a láska jeho v kráse sa svetu zjavila, jedno, či v letku práška drobného, či v letoch duchov sa skryla; z večného toho čerpaj pokladu, v ničom si dušu nezastav mladú, až slávu ducha rozvinieš: Len túž a horli v svätom zápalu, či z hlbín vzlietneš a či z Uralu, k nebu sa predsa vyšinieš!
Our God is love, and his love
appears as beauty in the world,
no matter if in the flight of a grain of dust,
or in the flights of the spirits it hides ;
just withdraw from this eternal treasure,
and never pawn your young soul for anything,
until you develop the glory of the spirit:
Just keep on longing and fulminating in holy flame,
whether you fly from the depths, or from the peaks of Ural,
you shall finally reach heavens!
267
Tys’ mňa, anjel môj, cítiť učila a v bránach žitia objala, myšlienku z citov si mi rozvila, z chlapectva mužnosť vyzvala: Žili sme spolu pre vyššie žitie, spolu cez zemských dní vlnobitie v prístav tento sme pribyli; by sme tu ambru jednu dýchali, jeden med z jednej čaše píjali a dvaja jedno ľúbili.
You have, my angel, taught me how to feel
and embraced me at the gates of life,
you have grown an idea out of my emotions,
challenged me to turn boyhood into manhood:
We lived together for higher life,
sailed through the waves of earthly days,
and came into this port;
so that we can breathe the same ambra,
drink the same honey form the same bowl
and one thing we loved both. 268
Počulas’, drahá, od múdrych sveta: či v dvoch môž’ jedna byť láska? Dvojjednota im je len klebeta a trojjednota otázka; tys’ im to skutkom už dokázala: seba mne s’ dala a mňa si vzala, oboje láska spojila. Múdrosť to dala ľudskej potrebe, by tá jednota človeka v sebe druhého ľúbiť učila.
Have you ever heard, dear, from the world’s wisemen:
whether there can be one love in two?
Dual unity is just a mere gossip to them
and the trinity is for them a question;
but you proved them in your very deed:
you gave me yourself and you took me ,
both was bound by love.
Wisdom has told the human need,
so that the unity of man inside
can teach the other to love.
269
Keby to krásne duší zmierenie srdcia naše neviazalo, spadli by putá naše milené, to slobodu by nám vzalo: Dvojnosť je milé ľúbosti puto, v slobodu mení porobu túto dvojjednoty podivný stroj. — A keby to nie, mládenec milý! akože by sme tento cítili nesmrteľných duší pokoj? —
If this beautiful peace of soul
hadn’t tied our hearts,
we would have lost our lovely bonds,
and this would have taken our freedom: Duality is a kind bond of love,
changing this slavery into freedom
this weird machine of dual unity. —
And if it weren’t for this, my lover!
How could we ever feel this
peace of the souls in immortality? —
270
Ach, v ľudských prsiach cnosti sa boja ťažkých žiadosti reťazí: tu neskalený cit má pokoja, tu svätosť večne víťazí, tu bezočivé umĺkli zlosti, tu sa na prsiach čistej ľúbosti každá moc tajná zlomila: Ja sa ti neviem ináče koriť, nemôžem inšie cítiť, hovoriť, len: krásna, moja a milá! —
Oh, in human chests, the virtues are afraid
of heavy chains of lust:
here, the unspoiled emotion rests in peace,
here, the holiness wins eternally,
here, the reckless angers went silent,
here, on the breasts of pure love
every secret power has broken:
I cannot revere you in another way,
I cannot feel different and talk different,
but: beautiful, dear and beloved! — 271
Čo voláte, vy, zemské ohlasy, že v nebi niekto prstenky? Alabastrových prstov okrasy, zálohy vernej milenky? — Oj, vy sudcovia slabí, škrekľaví! Vidno, že bleskov nadzemskej slávy v myšlienkach vašich nestáva! Načo anjelským prstom okrasy? Načo tam záloh, kde po vše časy vernosť sa vernosti dáva?!
Why are you calling, you earthly echoes,
that someone in heavens got a ring?
Decorating the alabaster fingers,
a forfeit of the faithful lover? —
Hey, you judges, weak and screaming!
It can be seen that the flashes of unearthly glory
have never sparkled in your thoughts!
Why would the fingers of an angel need any decoration?
Who would need forfeits there, where eternally
faithfulness is given to faithfulness ?!
272
Že v raji večnom nemá poľúbkov ľúbosť studená, nepravá? Nezávidí vám cukry holúbkov nadzemskej ľúbosti sláva: Bozk je na zemi — to mu dať sluší — časom rozkošný závdavok duší, časom úst zvyklé potkanie: Nebeská láska — no, či nie, drahá? zaviera všetky studnice blaha v jedno a večné bozkanie!
That in the eternal paradise
cold, untrue love has no place?
The glory of heavenly love
does not envy you at all:
A kiss on earth — to put it right —
turns to a joyful deposit of souls,
and then to usual meeting of the lips:
Heavenly love, — well, isn‘t it true, my dear?
It closes all the wells of bliss
into one and eternal kiss!
273
Šťastní ste tamdoľ, ktorí túžite vidinou krásnou nadšení! Nežiadam, aby v slávy úsvite cit pekný ten bol zrušený. Duch veľký v svojich túžbach svojhlavý útokom ženie na brány slávy, až kým ich šťastne otvorí: Ale blažený, kto jak my, drahá, keď svet bolestí už popremáha, v pôžitkov raji si dvorí.
Happy are you down there who are longing,
enthused with a beautiful vision!
I am not asking when the glory dawns
to cancel that pretty emotion.
Great spirit, headstrong in its desires,
keeps on attacking the gates of glory,
until he happily opens them:
But blissful are those who like us, my dear,
when they have defeated the world of pains,
keep on courting each other in the paradise of joy. 274
Pamätáš, krásna, tie okamženia, ktoré nám z neba padali, keď sme sa ešte v krajoch túženia na zadusenie objali? Nuž tam v premenných dolinách zemi, kde rozlúčenie — tam sú objemy na sladké slasti bohaté: Láska nebeská, tá neobjíma, lebo od srdca srdce prijíma len jedno večné objatie. —
Remember, my dear, those moments,
that were falling to us from the sky,
when we have, still dwelling in the realms of desires,
embraced each other and almost choked to death?
Well, down there in the changing earthly valleys,
where there is parting –– there are embraces
rich in the sweet delights:
Heavenly love, it does not hug,
because there flows from heart to heart
only one, eternal embrace. —
275
A dušu moju slávne unáša nadšenie nebeských citov; svety! čo mi je mrákota vaša, keď deň v prsiach mojich skvitol? — Večnosť mi svoju strhla oponu, duch ku vlastnému vzlietol zákonu orličím letom slobody: Vyviedla ľúbosť podstatu moju cez búre sveta až ku pokoju, k Bohu cez modly prírody! —
And my soul is gloriously carried
by the enthusiasm of heavenly emotions;
Worlds! What is your darkness to me,
when a day is flowering in my chest? —
Eternity has opened its curtain form me,
my spirit flew to its own law
with an eagle’s flight of freedom:
The love has led out my substance
through the worldly storms up to the peace,
through idols of nature to God! —
276
A nebom celým prorocký zvoní v žalmoch zbožných Cherubov hlas, že i ostatné mraky odroní z duchov ľudských všemožný čas. A nebom celým cez všetky veky, ako vĺn zlatých kypiace rieky, blesk čarovnej slávy vlaje: a vôkol dôstojného prestola v chóroch zbožnencov blaženosť volá: Halelujah! Boh láska je! —
Through the whole heavens, there prophecy sounds
the voice of a Cherub in pious psalms,
that also the other clouds shall be chased away
from the human spirits by the almighty time.
And through the whole heavens, through all the times,
like rivers swelling with golden waves,
the flash of the magical glory is cast:
and around the reverend throne
the glory calls in the choirs of the pious: Hallellujah! God is love! — 277
Neplačte, perly sĺz nízkej zemi, že svet ten váš lásky nemá; tu drží za vás výhlasné snemy láska tá, čo tam je nemá: a v snemy tieto vždy prístup majú tie krásne duše, čo v svete lkajú. — Svet ten je posteľ bolestí! — Tak teda plačte, veď sem lietajú slzy, čo z očú lásky padajú ku prameňom večných slastí!
Don’t you cry the pearls of tears to the low ground,
that your world here does not have love;
here, the voice of love can be clearly heard
of love that down there is dumb:
and this voice can always be heard
by those souls who cry in the world. —
That world is a bed of pains! —
So keep on crying, for here fly the tears
that are falling from the eyes of love
to the springs of eternal delights!
278
Marína moja, ľúbosť sa naša v chalupách zeme zrodila, dcéra poklady matky vynáša, ktorá jej útlosť vodila: Ľúbosť sa naša pozdvihla k nebu a tej jednoty blahú velebu na nás samých sme videli: Ach, nevďačná to ľúbosť by bola, keby sme z toho blaženstva póla na biedy matky hľadeli!
My dear Marína, our love was
born in the log-houses on earth,
A daughter is bringing out the treasures
of her mother who has raised her:
Our love has ascended to heaven
and the blissful joy of that unity
we witnessed in ourselves:
Oh, ungrateful love it would be,
if we looked from the blissful side
upon the misery of our mother!
279
Priatelia slávy, dajte nám krídla! v doliny zemské zletíme a tie smrteľných biednikov bydlá v chrámy lásky posvätíme: Ľúbosť nás naša tam naspak volá, jej sláva táto zdá sa len škola, zdeliť sa jej je úloha; suchá je rosa, ktorá nevlaží, blaženosť, ktorá druhých nevlaží, to blaženosť je úbohá!
Oh friends of glory, give us wings!
We shall fly down to the earthly valleys
And we shall consecrate the dwellings of poor mortals,
making them the temples of love:
Our love is calling us back there,
it finds this glory just another lesson,
its role is to be shared;
dry is the dew that does not bring moist,
and bliss that is not here for the others,
such bliss is rather poor! 280
Čo sa to v prsiach našich ozýva? Veď večne my sme blažení! Čo nás do krajov nízkych vyzýva? Veď rozdiel náš je zmožený! — Oj, drahá! láska zjaviť sa žiada: ja rád mám teba, ty mňa máš rada, svet ale lós náš necíti; tvár svetolásky, všeobecnosti dobyme úzkej našej ľúbosti, to prsia naše nasýti!
What is echoing in our chests?
As we are eternally blessed!
What is calling us to the low lands?
The difference between us was defeated! —
Oh, dear! Love asks to be shown:
I do love you, and you do love me ,
but the world does not feel our fate;
the face of worldly, normal love,
that shall be worn by our subtle love,
this shall bring peace to our chests!
281
Oltáre si tam duch náš vystaví, oltáre lásky nezvratné, z radostí svojich obete spraví, z túžob modlitby posvätné! — Boh náš! až pokiaľ iskra ľúbosti nezblčí v plameň ľudstva šírosti, tam kľačať v prosbách budeme. Potom, keď v ohni tom zemskosť zhorí a svet sa v jeden chrám Tvoj pretvorí, Boh náš! pred trón Tvoj prídeme!
Our spirit shall have altars,
altars of love immense,
it shall make offerings from its joys,
holy prayers out of desires! —
Our God! Until the spark of love
won’t burn in the wide flame of humanity,
we shall be kneeling there with pleas.
Then, when all the earthly burns in heavenly fire
and the world turns into one temple of Yours,
Our God! We shall come in front of your throne!
282
Objím ma, objím zas, duša moja! Vyhnite z cesty, planéty! Ľúbosť do boja volá, do boja v pole za sväté predmety! — Hnevy ľúbosti a ľúbosť hnevov! Cnosti, majte sa do sladkých spevov! Hromov sa traste, odpory! — Vy krásy, čo sa v časoch nemenia, buďteže túžbam nášho nadšenia obromohutné podpory!
Embrace me,embrace me again, my soul!
Planets, get out of the way!
Love calls to a fight, a fight
in the field, for the holy things! —
Angers of love and love of angers!
Virtues, start singing sweetly!
Be scared of the thunders, enemies! —
You beauties that remain the same in times,
please, be a mighty support
to the desires of our enthusiasm! 283
Vitaj nám, Sitno! Tatry, vitajte! Ty Váh prudký, ty silný Hron! Ruky nám, duše drahé, podajte! Svet náš, svet váš zas je jedon! Vitaj, Ladoga, vlnenie Sávy, vitajte, brehy Visly, Otavy, vy Obrohory, vitajte! I vy, rovníka pusté osady, i vy, dvoch pólov gigantské ľady, vítania ohlasy dajte! —
Welcome, our Sitno! Tatras, welcome!
You mighty Váh, powerful Hron!
Dear souls, give us your hands!
Our world and your world are one again!
Welcome, Ladoga,the waves of Sáva,
welcome, banks of Visla, Otava,
you giant mountains, welcome!
And you, deserted equatorial settlements,
and you, giant ice caps of the two poles,
please echo our welcoming! —
284
Otčina moja! čože ty spievaš? Faustov divých pekelný svet? Či achillovské hnevy rozsievaš? Korzikána pokonný let? Či Don Quijotov veterné hrady? Či Uránie a Mesiády? Či prózu v báseň obliekaš? — Oj, necháš ty to bardom šedivým! — S nádejou blahou, s túžením živým v blažených žiaľoch nariekaš!
My fatherland! What are you singing?
The hell of the world of wild Fausts?
Or are you spreading the angers of Achilles?
Or the last flight of the Corsican?
Or the windmills of Don Quijotte?
Or Uranias and Messiades?
Or do you dress prose into poems? —
hey, won‘t you leave that to the grey bards! —
With a blissful hope, with living desire
you moan in blissful sorrows!
285
Ktože by u nás písal satiry? Kto by u nás prózu sníval? Kto by tu spieval krvavé chýry? Kto by modly staré vzýval? — U nás sa ľúbi! tu šuhaj švárnu, tu syn povďačný matku obstarnú, tu zemko zemka bozkáva, tu krása kráse ruky podáva, tu sláva sláve dáva úlohu, tu božstvo teší sa v Bohu!
Who would be writing satires in our land?
Who would be dreaming the prose?
Who would be singing bloody gossips?
Who would be worshiping old idols? —
We use to love here! Young man loves maid,
a grateful son loves his elderly mother,
countryman kisses countryman,
here, the beauty shakes hands with beauty,
here the glory gives glory a role,
here, the Divine is happy in God! 286
Čo na smetiskách Tatier umiera, to pieseň tvoja ukryje? — S mŕtvymi mŕtvy nech sa oberá, to ľúbi život, čo žije. Pre podlosť ľudskú, pre nízku biedu, pre zmije plné kliatby a jedu, pre hnilých rabov, mamľasov, pre podrobnosti zemskej potreby, v horiacej duše vysokom nebi súzvučných nenájdeš hlasov! —
What is dying here on dump sites of the Tatras,
shall be hidden by your song? —
Let the dead deal with the dead,
what loves life, that lives.
For human cowardliness, for the low poverty,
for the vipers full of cursing and poison,
for the lazy slaves, stupid heads,
for the details of earthly needs,
in the high heavens of burning souls
you shall not find voices in accord! —
287
Nechcem ja, aby vlasť moja milá v Olymp sa kýsi zmenila, ni aby dcéra ľudská, spanilá obraz svoj zemský stratila! Nemožno ľúbiť svet magnetikov, nemožno vzývať námesačníkov, na zázrak strašno sa dívať: Vysoké biedy túžob pozemských, velebné chyby citov panenských možno aj ľúbiť, aj vzývať! —
I do not want my beloved country
to turn into some kind of Olymp,
I don’t want any human, virgin daughter
to lose her earthly image!
A world of occultists cannot be loved,
the somnabulant cannot be worshipped,
it is dreadful to see a miracle:
The high lows of earthly desires,
glorious mistakes of virgin emotions
can be both loved and praised! —
288
Marína moja, dumnej nemoty, šumných piesní mojich predmet! Čo bych tri večné spieval životy, piesni mojej skončenia niet! Ako keď vetrík v škárach Devína v šume slabučkom deje spomína, tak spev môj svetom previeva: No mne nemožno bolo nespievať; ale či mám sa krásam posmievať? Umĺkni, hlas! — Ona spieva!
My dear Marína, the eternal object,
of the deep sorrows of my songs!
Even if I sang for three eternal lives,
my song wouldn’t come to its end!
Like when the wind in the holes of Devín
remembers the events with his gentle breeze,
so does my song blow through the world:
But I could not help but keep singing;
yet shall I laugh at the beauties?
Silence, you voice! — She is singing! 289
Ona spieva! To spev svetu nemý, hlas volajúci v Sahare; a mne tak hasne, oj! tak hasne mi, ako obeť na oltáre: Ba ako víchor duchom mi letí, prebieha všetky života svety a všetky moje rozumy, a v nich sa točí ako vír rieky, šumí dokola, až — až naveky, na dne duše mi odšumí.
She is singing! Tothe world, her song is
just a faint voice calling at the vast Sahara desert;
and to me , it burns away, hey! It burns away,
like an offering on an altar:
And through my spirit it flies like a storm,
rushing through all my life’s worlds
and through all my reasons,
whirling in them like a river,
buzzing around, until — until it
stops buzzing on the bottom of my soul.
290
Lebo ta letia obrazy divné nad večnosťami podstaty, a moci sveta bujné, záživné sú vlastných si detí kati; a žitia toho chladné vanutia prežiť velebné krásy nás nútia a raj citov nesú nazmar: Nuž teda! — keď to poroba žiada, nech dušou celou blesk sa rozkladá, ako Moskvy svätej požiar! —
Because there fly the wird images
above the eternities of substance,
and the worldly powers wild, wicked
are the hangmen of their own children;
and the cold wind of that life
force us to survive the glorious beauties
and bring the paradise of emotions in vain:
Well, then! — if the slavery asks,
let the lightning strike through the whole soul,
like the fire of the holy Moscow! —
291
Marína moja! teda tak sme my ako tie božie plamene, ako tie kvety v chladnej zemi, ako tie drahé kamene; padajú hviezdy, aj my padneme, vädnú tie kvety, aj my zvädneme, a klenoty hruda kryje: Ale tie hviezdy predsa svietili, a pekný život tie kvety žili, a diamant v hrude nezhnije!
My dear Marína! Thus, so are we
like the flames divine,
like those flowers in cold ground,
like the precious stones;
the stars are falling, we, too, will fall,
the flowers wither, and so will we wither, and jewels are covered by soil:
But those stars did truly shine,
and the flowers did have a nice life, and the diamond shall not rot in the soil!
