Servian Popular Poetry

by Unknown

Never, since the world had its beginning,
Never did a lovelier flow’ret blossom
Than the flow’ret we ourselves saw blooming
In the white court of the Bey Liubōvich.
High above the level Nevesin̄a [27]
Tower’d the fascinating maid Ajkuna;
She, the Bey Liubōvich’s lovely sister.

She was lovely—nothing e’er was lovelier;
She was tall and slender as the pine tree;
White her cheeks, but tinged with rosy blushes,
As if morning’s beam had shone upon them,
Till that beam had reach’d its high meridian;
And her eyes, they were two precious jewels;
And her eyebrows, leeches from the ocean;
And her eyelids, they were wings of swallows;
Silken tufts the maiden’s flaxen ringlets;
And her sweet mouth was a sugar casket;
And her teeth were pearls array’d in order;
White her bosom, like two snowy dovelets;
And her voice was like the dovelet’s cooing;
And her smiles were like the glowing sunshine;
And the fame, the story of her beauty
Spread through Bosnia and through Herzgovina. [28]
Many a suitor on the maiden waited:
Two were unremitting in their service;
One, the old gray-headed Mustaph Aga—
He of Uraine, from the Novi fortress; [29a]
And the other, Suko of Ubdinia. [29b]
Both together met the self-same evening,
When they came to court the lovely maiden.
Thousand golden coins the old man proffer’d,
And, besides, a golden drinking vessel:
Round the vessel twined a mighty serpent,
From whose forehead shone so bright a diamond,
That at midnight, just as well as noonday,
By its light you might indulge your feastings.
Suko offered but a dozen ducats;
All the youth possessed, except his sabre—
His good sabre, and his steed so trusty.
Suko dwelt upon the country’s border,
As the falcon dwells among the breezes.
Then his brother thus address’d Ajkuna:
“Lo! Ajkuna, my beloved sister!
When my mother bore thee, she betrothed thee—
She betrothed thee to another lover.
Many a lover, maiden! now would woo thee;
But the best of all those wooing lovers
Are those twain to-day that seek thy presence.
One the venerable Mustaph Aga;
He that comes from Uraine out of Novi.
Countless are the old Mustapha’s treasures:
He will clothe thee all in silk and satin,
Will with honey and with sugar feed thee.
Suko of Ubdinia is the other:
But this Suko nothing more possesses
Than his trusty steed and his good sabre.
Now, then, choose, Ajkuna; choose, my sister;
Say to which of these I shall betrothe thee.”

Thus his sister answer gave her brother:
“Thine shall be the choice, my brother! only;
Him alone I’ll wed whom thou wilt give me;
But I’d rather choose a youthful lover,
Howsoever small that youth’s possessions,
Than be wedded to old age, though wealthy.
Wealth—it is not gold—it is not silver;
Wealth—is to possess what most we cherish.”
Little did he listen to his sister,
For he gave the maid to Mustaph Aga;
To that old white-bearded man he gave her.
He with speed to his own court departed,
Brought the bridal guests, to lead the maiden
To his dwelling; and among them Suko
Lifted o’er the rest the bridal banner;
And they hasten’d to the maiden’s dwelling.

At the dwelling of the lovely maiden,
Three white days the bridal crowd had linger’d,—
When the fourth day dawn’d, at early morning,
Forth they led the maiden from her dwelling;
And ere yet far off they had proceeded,
Ere they reach’d the flat and open country,
Turn’d the lovely maiden to the leader,
And into his ear these words she whisper’d:
“Tell me now, my golden ring, my brother! [32]
Who is chosen for the maiden’s bridegroom?”
Softly did the marriage-leader answer:
“Sweetest sister! fairest maid, Ajkuna!
Look to right, and look to left, about thee;
Dost thou see that old man in the distance,
Who like an effendi sits so proudly
In the farthest palanquin of scarlet,
Whose white beard o’ercovers all his bosom?
Lo! it is the aged Mustaph Aga;
He it is who’s chosen for thy bridegroom.”

And the maiden look’d around the circle
And within her sad heart sighing deeply,
Once again she ask’d the marriage-leader:
“Who is he upon that white horse seated,
He who bears so high aloft the banner,
On whose chin that sable beard is growing?”
And the leader answers thus the maiden:
“He’s the hero Suko of Urbinia;
He who for thee with thy brother struggled,—
Struggled well indeed, but could not win thee.”
When the lovely maiden heard the leader,
On the black, black earth, anon she fainted:
All to raise her, hastening, gather round her,
And the last of all came Mustaph Aga;
None could lift her from the ground, till Suko
Sticks into the earth his waving banner,
Stretches out his right hand to the maiden.
See her, see her! from the ground upspringing,
Swift she vaults upon his steed behind him;
Rapidly he guides the courser onwards,
Swift they speed across the open desert,
Swift as ever star across the heavens.

When the old man saw it, Mustaph Aga,
Loud he screamed with voice of troubled anger:
“Look to this, ye bidden to the wedding!
He, the robber! bears away my maiden:
See her, see her borne away for ever.”
But one answer met the old man’s wailings:
“Let the hawk bear off the quail in safety,—
Bear in safety—she was born to wed him;
Thou, retire thee to thy own white dwelling!
Blossoms not for thee so fair a maiden!”

ILLNESS OF PRINCE MUJO.

To the baths the noble Turks are going;
From the baths are coming Turkish ladies.
Lo! before the Turks Prince Mujo marches;
Mahmoud Pasha’s bride before the ladies.
O how wond’rous fair is princely Mujo!
Fairer yet the bride of Mahmoud Pasha!
How magnificent their flowing dresses!
There the Tzar’s son, princely Mujo sicken’d,
Smitten by the bride of Mahmoud Pasha.
Ill he wended to his own white dwelling,
Threw him down upon his silken pillow.
All the ladies to the Prince’s mother,
All in order to the Tzaress crowded;
All, except the bride of Mahmoud Pasha.

Then the Mother-tzaress thus address’d her:
“Noble woman! bride of Mahmoud Pasha!
Think’st thou then thyself of higher lineage?
In death-sickness is my Mujo lying:
All the ladies of the court have sought him:
Thou, and thou alone, of all, art absent!”

When the bride of Mahmoud Pasha heard it,
Soon she girt her raiments—in her sleevelets
She prepared medicaments the choicest;
Rosy-sweets, wrapp’d up in golden vestments;
Yellow honey-comb in silver dishes,
And spring-cherries all preserv’d in honey;
Peaches with the earliest dew-drops gather’d;
Figs of Ocean, and the grapes of Mostar: [36a]
These she hid beneath her richest garments,
And she hasten’d to the Prince’s dwelling.