From Jerusalem, the holy city,
Lo! there flew a gray and royal falcon;
With him came a little flitting swallow.
No! it was no gray and royal falcon;
’Twas Elias! ’twas the holy prophet;
And he brought no little flitting swallow,
But a letter from God’s holy mother
To the Emperor, from Polje Kossova; [76]
At the Emperor’s feet he drops the letter:
And the letter thus address’d the Emperor!
“Tzar Lasar! thou tzar of noble lineage!
Tell me now, what kingdom hast thou chosen?
Wilt thou have heaven’s kingdom for thy portion,
Or an earthly kingdom? If an earthly,
Saddle thy good steed—and gird him tightly;
Let thy heroes buckle on their sabres,
Smite the Turkish legions like a tempest,
And these legions all will fly before thee.
But if thou wilt have heaven’s kingdom rather,
Speedily erect upon Kossova,
Speedily erect a church—of marble;
Not of marble, but of silk and scarlet; [77]
That the army, to its vespers going,
May from sin be purged—for death be ready:
For thy warriors all are doom’d to stumble;
Thou, too, prince, wilt perish with thy army!”
When the Tzar Lasar had read the writing,
Many were his thoughts and long his musings.
“Lord my God! what—which shall be my portion,
Which my choice of these two proffer’d kingdoms?
Shall I choose heaven’s kingdom? shall I rather
Choose an earthly one?—for what is earthly
Is all fleeting, vain, and unsubstantial;
Heavenly things are lasting, firm, eternal.”
So the Tzar preferr’d a heavenly kingdom
Rather than an earthly.—On Kossova
Straight he builds a church, but not of marble;
Not of marble, but of silk and scarlet:
Then he calls the patriarch of Servia,
Calls around him all the twelve archbishops,
Bids them make the holy supper ready,
Purify the warriors from their errors,
And for death’s last conflict make them ready.
So the warriors were prepared for battle,
And the Turkish hosts approach’d Kossova.
Bogdan leads hit valiant heroes forward,
With his sons—nine sons—the Jugovichi,
Sharp and keen—nine gray and noble falcons.
Each led on nine thousand Servian warriors;
And the aged Jug led twenty thousand.
With the Turks began the bloody battle.
Seven pashas were overcome and scattered,
But the eighth pasha came onwards boldly.
And the aged Jug Bogdan has fallen—
Fallen with his sons—nine Jugovichi,
Nine gray noble falcons—all have fallen;
And the host has fallen with its leaders!
Forward press the Mrljashevich warriors,
Ban Uglesha and the Voivode Goiko;
And with them the monarch Tzar Vukashin:
Each one leads full thirty thousand warriors.
With the Turks begins the bloody battle;
Eight pashas are soon o’erwhelm’d and perish,
But the ninth pasha comes boldly onwards—
Brothers Mrljashevich twain have fallen,
Ban Uglesha and the Voivode Goiko,
With a grievous wound sinks down Vukashin,
He is trodden on by Turkish horses,
And the warriors perish with their leaders.
Now the ducal Stephan presses forward:
Strong and mighty is the ducal army;
Strong and powerful; sixty thousand warriors.
And the battle with the Turks is raging;
Nine pashas are soon o’erwhelm’d and perish;
But the tenth pasha comes boldly onward;
And the ducal Stephan is o’erpower’d,
And his warriors perish with their leader.
Then Lasar, the noble lord of Servia;
Seeks Kossova with his mighty army;
Seven and seventy thousand Servian warriors.
How the infidels retire before him,
Dare not look upon his awful visage!
Now indeed begins the glorious battle.
He had triumph’d then,—had triumph’d proudly,
But that Vuk—the curse of God be on him!
He betray’d his father at Kossova.
So the Turks the Servian monarch vanquish’d,
So Lasar he fell, the Tzar of Servia—
With Lasar fell all the Servian army.
But they have been honour’d, and are holy,
In the keeping of the God of heaven.