ŠTO TE NEMA (Aleksa Šantić)
Kad na mlado poљsko cvijeće
biser niž e ponoć nijema,
kroz grudi mi žeљa lijeće:
što te nema, š to te nema?
Kad mi sanak pokoj dade
i du ša se miru sprema,
kroz srce se glasak krade:
š to te nema, š to te nema?
Vedri istok kad zarudi
u trepetu od alema,
i tad duš a pjesmu budi:
što te nema, š to te nema?
I u času bujne sreće,
i kad tuga uzdah sprema,
moja љubav pjesmu kreće:
što te nema, š to te nema?
E moj koњiću bijeli, moje desno krilo!
Gdje je doba ono, gdje su dani oni, kad je
srce puno rahatluka bilo? Znaš li čase
one: pozno sunce grije, vrhovi munara
kao vatra gore; a svuda iz baš ča miris
đula vije. Mi se povraćamo iz lova, iz
gore; a ona na svojim demir-penџerima
stoji љepš a od večeri i od sabah zore:
na me čeka, gleda i časove broji kad ću
proći. A ja, kad bih blizu bio, slao bih joj
pozdrav kuburlija svojih. Ona sa penџera
đul i behar mio prosula bi hitro, i ko
snijeg na me pahuљice meke padale su
tiho, kao da su sevdah ćutile i same.
O kako je tada puno sunca bilo! A sad?
Svuda mutni oblaci i tame
Kako mi je srce jadno, kao da ga neko
bode, te sve plače i sve pita: kuda moja
mladost ode? Je li griješ na sabah zora,
il nebeska sjajna zvijezda; je li griješ na
љubav moja, kao ptica iz gnijezda, ko glas
ptice iz gnijezda? Je li greš na sabah zora,
il nebeska sjajna zvijezda; đe mi to prođe
љubav moja, kao ptica iz gnijezda, ko glas
ptice iz gnijezda?...
Za englesko govorno podrucje bujrum odje:
WHY YOU AREN'T HERE
(Aleksa Šantić)
When on the young field-flowers
mute midnight strings the pearl,
desire flies through my chest:
Why aren't you here, why aren't you here?
When a dream gave me repose
and the soul is preparing for peace,
through heart the voice is sneaking:
Why aren't you here, why aren't you here?
When the serene east glows
in the wink of knowledge,
and the soul is awaking the song:
Why aren't you here, why aren't you here?
And in the moment of dense happiness,
and when the sorrow's preparing a sigh,
my love is starting a song:
Why aren't you here, why aren't you here?
O thou my horsee bright, my right-hand wing!
Where have those times gone, where are those
days, when a heart was full of sweetness either?
Do you know those hours: late sun is warming,
tops of minarets lighting like a fire, and everywhere
from the gardens smell of the roses swirling. We are
returning from hunting, from a mountain; and there
she stands at her oriels prettier than evening and
the morning dawn: waiting for me, overlooking
and counting hours when I will pass by. But me,
when I was nearby, I would send her a regards
of my holsters. And from her windows she will
dear rose blossom quickly spill, and like a snow
soft flakes were falling down silently on me,
as if they feel the blues of itself. Oh, it was much
sunshine then! And now? All hazy clouds and darkness...
How my heart is miserable, like someone is sticking
into it, it cries and asks all over again: where my
youth did go? Is it the mourning dawn sinfull, or
a sky shining star; is my love sinfull, like a bird
from a nest, like a voice of a bird from a nest?
Is it the dawning gold sinfull, or a sky shining
star; where my love did go, like a bird from
a nest, like a voice of a bird from a nest?...