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     Sunday, April 23, 2017


      'Marina' by     Andrej Sládkovi? (101-200)
     (English translation - red text)

    101

    Nehoden srdca, rozumu, hlasu,
    ni o?í, uší a ?asu,
    kto v svetoch duší nenájde krásu,
    ju? by za?úbil v svätom ú?asu;
    a ku sláve sa iste prebije,
    kto v jednej kráse pre všetky ?ije
    a za ?u horí, o nej hovorí,
    z nej si ?innosti hory otvorí.
    Z nej borí, tvorí, jej sa pokorí,
    zlos? z jej priestoru vymorí!

    Unworthy of the heart, reason, voice
    of eyes, ears and time     ,
    is he who doesn’t find beauty in the world of souls
    that he would love in holy astonishment     ;
    and surely will he break through to glory     ,
    who lives in one beauty for all the beauties,
    flaming for her, talking about her     ,
    opening all his activities to her     .
    He destroys in her name, he creates in her name,
    he reveres her , killing all the evil in her presence !

    102

    Moja je ona! z ?ela svitajú
    zálohy srdca vrelosti,
    z líc krásnych, z hviezdnych o?í volajú
    pamiatky mojej ?úbosti:
    Na sladké ústa primreli,
    aby oboje zjavne vedeli,
    ?o sa srdcami ozvalo:
    Dušu mi dala, ruku s?úbila,
    všetko objatím verným stvrdila:
    tak ?o?e sokom ostalo? —

    Mine is she ! Beaming from the forehead
    are the armies of the kindness of heart     ,
    from the cheeks so beautiful,     from the starry eyes are calling the memories of my loving :
    The lips frozen to the sweet     ,
    so that they both apparently know     ,
    what has echoed in the hearts     :
    She gave me her soul, promised her hand     ,
    confirmed everything with a firm embrace     :
    so what has left for the rivals     ? —

    103

    „Mária milá, vsta?, uchy? krásne
    die?atko, poklad náš drahý;
    Jeruzalema mesto neš?astné
    svoje na? vysiela vrahy!
    Vsta?, milá! chví?a ?ím neodbije,
    srdce sa naše bezpe?ne skryje
    v tichých dolinách Siona!“
    A duša matky hrôzy pocíti,
    perlu ?ivota svojho uchytí,
    tajdú: die?a, on a ona.

    „ Dear Mary, stand up, and grab the beautiful
    baby, our precious treasure     ;
    The unfortunate town of     Jerusalem
    is sending its murderers upon it     !
    Stand up, beloved     ! Until the moment passes,
    our heart will safely hide
    in the silent valleys of Zion     !“
    And mother’s soul shall feel the terrors     ,
    she will grab the pearl of her life     ,
    and there they go     : the child, him and her.

    104

    Na púšti krotká samota stojí,
    cédrový chládok tam vonia,
    tu je syn útly azda v pokoji,
    pútnici verní sa sklonia,
    jeden i druhý die?a ustíska. —
    No hrom Heroda ?aleko blýska —
    rodinka, ?alej od neho! —
    Vstanú, závistnej dia?ke neveria,
    kroky splašené rovno zameria
    na brehy Nílu svätého.

    A tame seclusion standing in the desert,
    scented with cedar cool     ,
    here, the tiny son may perhaps be in peace     ,
    the faithful pilgrims bow down     ,
    one after another, they cherish the child     . —
    But the thunder of Herodes roars in the distance     —
    family, stay away from him     ! —
    They stand up, distrusting the envious distance     ,
    their steps, frightened, aim directly
    to the banks of the holy Nile     .

    105

    A ke? u? umrel tyran psohlavý,
    k ot?ine zas zatú?ili,
    šli a od srdca die?atko slávy
    na svätozemi zlo?ili:
    a s podivením sa ?udovali
    nad tým, ?o kryli a vychovali,
    ?o v staji hrialo hoviadko. —
    Tak, drahá, straší aj nás lós ?ierny:
    tys’ mati útla, ja ot?im verný,
    svet Herod, ?úbos? die?atko. —

    And when the dog-headed tyran died,
    they longed for their fatherland     ,
    they went and put the child of the heart of glory
    down on the holy ground     :
    Astonished, they were wondering
    about what they were covering and raising     ,
    what was warmed up by the cattle in the barn     . —
    So, my dear, the dark fate scares us as well     :
    you’re the tiny mother, I’m the faithful father     ,
    the world is Herodes, our love is the child     . —
    106

    Vek náš je taká próza netrebná,
    ?e ni? v ?om nemáš svätého;
    idea mu je snárstvo velebná,
    a vo fabrikách boh jeho:
    Do šiat lásky sa sotva oblieka,
    krása v otroctve potrieb narieka
    a vernos? ka?dý vysmeje.
    To je tón ?asu! povieš. Mne ?úto,
    lebo tón tento veku tomuto
    špatne na pohreb zazneje.

    Our age is  such a useless prose,
    that there is nothing holy in it     ;
    it deeds a glorious idea mere dreaming     ,
    its god is in the factories     :
    It hardly dresses in the dress of love     ,
    beauty is lamenting under the slavery of needs
     and faithfulness is being laughed out.
    That‘s the tune of times! you say. I regret,
    because this tone will toll an evil sound
    on the funeral of this age     .

    107

    Ku krásam slávnym ideálu,
    obraz môj drahý, primrime!
    Na biednych hanu lebo chválu
    vyšším citom zabudnime:
    Nech š?astie svoje tí si majú,
    ?o vo hmlách svojich nepoznajú
    rozdiel medzi zemou, nebom!
    ?o v krásach ?ijú mnohotvárnych,
    tí nevá?ia si krikov márnych,
    tých, ?o ?ijú samým chlebom. —

    With the ideal of glorious beauties ,
    shall my dear picture be merged     !
    Let us forget scolding or praising

    those poor in higher emotion :
    Let those have their own happiness     ,
    who cannot tell, while in their fogs,
    the Earth from the very skies     !
    Those who live in manifold beauties     ,
    they do not value the screams     of
    those living on pure bread     . —

    108

    „?o?e ten potô?ik pod tou skalou hu?í,
    ?i hádam tú svoju skalu ?úbi? u?í?
    U? len, u?, potô?ik, ?úbospevným hlasom:
    ?o sa nedá chví?kou, to sa podá ?asom.
    ?úbosti, ?úbosti, mala som ?a dosti,
    a teraz ?a nemám ani za dve hrsti:
    ?úbos? moja zvädla, ale ona skvitne,
    ke? milý zastane pri vysokom Sitne.“

    „What is the creek under the rock humming,
    does it perhaps teach the rock to love     ?
    Teach it, just teach it     ,little creek, with your love-singing voice:
    what cannot be done in a moment, that will yield in the course of time     .
    Love, my love, I had plenty of you     ,
    and now I don‘t even have two handfuls of you:
    My love has fainted, but it shall flourish again     ,
    when under the rocks of Sitno my lover will stand     .“

    109

    Pamätáš, drahá, ke? s’ tak spievala,
    kvet medzi kvetmi milými?
    Vetríkov chladných ihra prestala
    šuš?a? lístkami útlymi,
    a nezábudky tieto slúchali,
    fialky vonné dýcha? prestali,
    východné zore ?iarili,
    a z o?í na tvár, na kupku z tvári,
    ?o kvetom ?erstvé doniesla dary,
    v ligote jasnom jastrili.

    Do you remember, dear, when you were singing ,
    you flower among the flowers beloved     ?
    The cold winds stopped playing
    with the tiny leaves     ,
    the forget-me-nots were listening     ,
    the scented violets stopped breathing     ,
    the Eastern skies were shining     ,
    and from the eyes to the face, from face to the jar
    that brought fresh presents for the flowers     ,
    were shining in glorious light     .

    110

    U? sa ti rtíky boli objali,
    slová zrete?né odzneli,
    ešte sa hlasy kies’ ozývali,
    akoby dia? spieva? chceli.
    Ústa milostné, u? ste ustali?
    ?i by ste ozaj na to nedbali,
    ?e srdce ?alej chce spieva?? —
    Nie, k slu?bám srdca v?dy sme hotové:
    ?o teraz spieva srdce, nepovie,
    tajomstvá nechce previeva?.

    Your lips have embraced each other already ,
    clear worlds have sounded     ,
    someone’s voices were still echoing     ,
    as if they wanted to sing     .
    Beloved mouth, are you tired     ?
    Would you really not care     ,
    that the heart still wants to sing     ? —
    No, we are always ready to serve the heart:
    what the heart is singing now, it won’t tell     ,
    it doesn’t want to disclose its secrets     .

    111

    Tak si len nôti tá moja drahá,
    a vetrík vôkol nej šustí,
    a z kupky prší krištá?na vlaha,
    zo stromov kvetodá?? hustý;
    a kvety zase vonne dýchajú
    a v?aky peknej panej dávajú
    za bystrú vlahu ?ivota. —
    Blýskavú kupku ona odlo?í
    v paseke hustej, v zakvitlom hlo?í,
    a zas sa vzdiali od plota.

    So is she singing, the dear love of mine,
    and the wind swishing around her,
    crystals of moist are raining from the jar     ,
    off the trees falls a thick rain of flowers     ;
    and the flowers breathing with scents
    and giving thanks to the beautiful lady
    for the pouring water of life     . —
    She puts the shining jar aside
    in dense bushes, in blooming hawthorns     ,
    and she recedes from the fence again     .
    112

    Zrakma tajnýma okolo hodí,
    nôti? si nemo prestane,

    trávou sa bujnou skokom prebrodí,
    nad kruhom milým zastane:
    a biele ru?e milú poznajú
    a korunkami ctivo kývajú,
    po?uješ? ka?dá sa núka!
    T?? ju upichnú? ka?dý sa bojí,
    lebo v suchotách bôle ich hojí
    jej dobrá, pe?livá ruka.


    Secretly, she looks around ,
    stops singing and remains silent     ,
    she wades the dense grass with a jump     ,
    stops at the place  so loved     :
    and the white roses do know the lover
    honoring her with waving of their crowns     ,
    can you hear them? Each of them offers itself     !
    All of the thorns are scared to harm her     ,
    as she is easing their pains in the draughts
    with her good, caring hand     .

    113

    Ru?i?ky moje, kvety ?istoty,
    ?o sa vy ráno rosíte?
    ?i o zbavenie t??ovej psoty
    v slzách perlových prosíte?
    Ja som vás prísnych, pich?avých pánov
    a vetrov divých, kvetín tyranov,
    na ve?né veky zbavila:
    abych vás lásky svojej k ozdobe,
    k obeti v?a?nej na otca hrobe,
    do vencov krásnych zavila.

    Roses of min, flowers of purity ,
    why are you crying dew in the morning     ?
    Are you asking to be deprived of the plague of thorns
    with your pearl-like tears     ?
    I have deprived you of the strict, stingy masters
    of the wild winds, the tyrants of flowers     ,
    until the end of times     :
    so that I can, in order to decorate my love     ,
    as a thankful offering on the father’s grave     ,
    wrap it up in the beautiful garlands     .

    114

    ?e ste slobodu svoju stratili?
    Zo m?a si príklad vezmite:
    Na? by ste v divej slobode zhnili?
    Slávne otroctvo prijmite.
    ?e krása vaša skoro uvädne?
    Š?astný, kto lásky v obe? zapadne,
    prach jeho bude poctený!
    To osud krásnych krásu vystavi?,
    v okam?ení sa jednom oslávi?
    a padnú? v svetov premeny. —

    Have you lost your freedom?
    Follow my example     :
    Why would you rot in the freedom wild     ?
    Accept the slavery gloriously     .
    Will your beauty quickly fade     ?
    Happy is he who falls victim to love     ,
    his dust shall be dignified     !
    It’s the fate of the beautiful, to show beauty     ,
    be celebrated in one moment
    and fall to the changes of the worlds     . —

    115

    Tam si do tône lipy sadneme
    na lono bujnej trávi?ky,
    objíma? jedna druhú budeme
    vo vencoch lásky, ru?i?ky!
    Vernos? si ve?nú s?úbite sväte,
    vernos? do smrti si zachováte,
    zradky?a, ktorá odpadne!
    Ten smutne zhynie, kto sa rozlú?i:
    š?astný, kto v sladkom lásky náru?í,
    jak vy, milené, uvädne!

    There shall we sit down in the shade of lime
    in the lap of lush grass     ,
    we shal be hugging each other
    in the garlands of love, my roses     !
    Make the holy vow of eternal faithfulness     ,
    you will remain faithful till the death     ,
    a traitor shall be the one who fails     !
    Sadly shall die he who shall part     :
    Blessed is he, who in the sweet arms of love
    withers like you do, my beloved     !

    116

    S tým si sa, švárna, pekne sklonila,
    ru?e si lonu zverila,
    sama si sebe v pamä? vodila,
    komus’ tie vence ur?ila:
    a ru?u k ru?i svorne si vila,
    ku ka?dej slovo s’ prehovorila,
    o zväzkoch lásky si snila;
    vtom si zrak bystrý nabok hodila,
    sebou si trhla — skríkla — sko?ila —
    ?o si to za div zo?ila? —

    Saying so, my beautiful, you bent nicely,
    entrusted the roses to the lap     ,
    and you remembered yourself     ,
    for whom have you made the garlands     :
    wound them, rose by rose, together     ,
    you said a word to each one of them     ,
    dreaming of the bonds of love     ;
    then suddenly, you looked sharply to the side     ,
    you twitched     — screamed — jumped —
    What kind of wonder have you seen     ? —

    117

    Oj, ty mátoha! hadisko škúli
    v blízkosti šumnej Maríny,
    hlavu si k chvostu pokojne túli,
    má miesto o?í rubíny;
    ko?a sa na ?om jasne ligoce,
    na hlave sa mu tuho blyskoce
    po?iar diamantov východu:
    Kto to u? teraz snadno rozsúdi,
    ?o ten Indián pod Sitnom blúdi?
    ?i osoh nosí, ?i škodu? —

    Oh, you wraith ! An ugly snake squints
    next to the pretty     Marína,
    his head resting calmly upon his tail     ,
    rubies instead of eyes     ;
    his skin is glittering clearly     ,
    on his head, brightly flashing
    there’s fire of the diamonds of the East     :
    Who of you can easily say     ,
    below Sitno, why has the Indian gone strayed     ?
    Does he bring good, or bad     ? —
    118

    Smelé má srdce moja diev?ina,
    ostatne oddaná Bohu,
    a dvojjazy?ník krotký za?ína
    satanskú svoju úlohu:
    „Dcéra krásoty! never tvárnosti,
    ktorú na seba anjel milosti
    pre š?astie tvoje prijíma;
    on ti priate?skú donáša radu,
    ke? dušu tvoju spanilú, mladú
    neš?astie tvoje objíma.“

    Brave heart has my maid ,
    completely devoted to God     ,
    and a tame split-tongue starts to play
    his evil, Satanic role     :
    „Daughter of beauty! Do not trust the face,
    that your merciful angel wears
    for your own bliss     ;
    he brings a friendly advice     ,
    when your young, virgin soul
    is embraced by your misfortune     .“

    119

    „ Budúcnos? tvoja zrete?ne le?í
    pred duchom mojím odstretá,
    cez ?adier tvojich pätoro mre?í
    zrak môj mohutný prelieta;
    na dno sa srdca krásneho dívam,
    ?úto mi, ?e tá, ktorej cnos? vzývam,
    bi? vlastnej biedy bozkáva,
    a právo svoje, právo ku blahu,
    otroku svojmu a svojmu vrahu
    v láske zblúdilej podáva.“


    „Your future lies ahead clearly
    unveiled in front of my spirit     ,
    through the fivefold bars of your breasts
    my powerful sight is flying     ;
    to the very bottom of the pretty heart I look     ,
    sorry am I, for she whose virtues I worship     ,
    is kissing the whip of her own misery     ,
    and the right of hers, right for happiness     ,
    she hands to her slave and her murderer
    in twisted affection     .“

    120

    „ Mocnosti divé, katov ?ivota
    v?dy nenávidím a haním:
    kde duše ?isté napadne psota,
    jej jedy mocne odstránim:
    Ne?iadam ?iadnu zlatú náhradu,
    len po?uj hlas môj a moju radu,
    chrá?, chrá? sa slepej ?úbosti! —
    Strašné osudu víchrice dujú, —
    v besnote svojej sa nezmilujú
    nad kvetom útlym mladosti.“

    „You, the wild powers, I always hate
    hate the murderers of life and scold them     :
    where pure souls are attacked by misery     ,
    I powerfully remove her poisons     :
    I don’t ask for any compensation in gold     ,
    just listen to my voice and to my advice     ,
    beware, beware of love that is blind     ! —
    Terrible storms of fate are blowing     , —
    they have no mercy in their darkness
    over the tiny flower that is young     .“

    121

    Devu nevinnú jaksi zmútili
    slová tajného zlosyna,
    ?ahy jej tváre tie? zasmútili
    nad tým, ?o satan spomína.
    Vidiac jej zmätok, zvodca sa teší,
    a v srdci jeho rados? peleší,
    rados? satanskej zábavy.
    „Len si nevernos? pripus? do duši,
    oslepí láska ?a aj ohluší!“
    a nahlas ?alej zas vraví:

    Innocent maid got quite worried
    by the words of the secret villain     ,
    her face has got also very sad
    about what Satan is mentioning     .
    Watching her confusion     , the tempter is happy,
    and in his heart, clawed hands are clapping     ,
    over the joy from his satanic fun     .
    „Just let unfaithfulness creep into your soul,
    it will make you blind, my love, and deaf     !“
    and aloud, he goes on again:

    122

    „Mraky neš?astia, ?ier?avy bojov
    nad milým tvojím vstávajú,
    nad budúcnos?ou jeho a tvojou
    havrany veštiac kvákajú:
    Jestli osud svoj k jeho pripojíš,
    tak rany svoje nikdy nezhojíš,
    zahynieš v búrkach bo?astí!
    ?i ten lós tvoje zaslú?ia krásy,
    aby si mrela ?ivota ?asy
    so synom tisíc neš?astí?“

    „Clouds of misfortune, darkness of fights
    are rising above your lover ,
    over the future, his and yours
    the ravens caw their prophecies     :
    Should you bind your fate with his     ,
    your wounds shall be never healed     ,
    you perish in the storms of pains     !
    Do your beauties deserve such a fate     ,
    by which you would be dying all life long
    with a son of thousand misfortunes     ?“

    123

    „Odriekni sa ho! povedz len slovo,
    spas ty m?a, spasím ja teba;
    zhodím hne? rúcho toto hadovo,
    do svojho vstúpime neba:
    V slávy úslní budeš tam býva?,
    všetky radosti ?itia po?íva?
    v rukách pekného milenca:
    a ?o bych celé mal schodi? svety,
    poznášam všetkých radostí kvety
    do tvojho bla?enstva venca!“

    „ Repudiate him! Just say a word,
    save me and I shall save you     ;
    at once shall I drop down this skin of a snake     ,
    and we shall rise to your heaven     :
    You shall be living there, in glorious light     ,
    enjoying all the good things of life
    in the arms of handsome lover     :
    and even if I had to walk all the worlds     ,
    I shall bring the flowers of all joys
    for the garlands of your blissful life     !“
    124

    A krása tvoja, milá, zastala
    jak socha Lady nitrianskej
    a dušu svoju ta si poslala
    svetom výstrahy satanskej:
    Ona sa zasa skoro vrátila,
    strach tvoj a smútok mocne sklátila
    a slovo viery preriekla;
    srdce preniklo ve?ké nadšenie,
    hlas jeho statný tak sa roz?enie
    k zradnému poslovi pekla:


    And your beauty, beloved, just stood
    like a statue of Lada of Nitra
    and you have sent your soul
    way through the world of satanic warning     :
    But the soul returned very soon     ,
    your sorrow and fears she has knocked down
    saying a word of faith     ;
    great enthusiasm flashed through the heart     ,
    its mighty voice is being cast
    right to the treacherous messenger of hell     :

    125

    Duch dobrý duši mojej sa zjavil,
    ty zloboh v hada zakliaty!
    Na skale viery tvoj sa zastavil
    kúko? do p?s mi rozsiaty. —
    ?o bys’ pozbieral hrôz všetkých hromy,
    ?o bys’ vyhrnul ohne Sodomy
    na pole mojej ?úbosti:
    hlas tvoj len srdce slabé naplaší,
    ale, ver, nikdy on neprestraší
    nezvratnos? mojej vernosti! —

    A good spirit appeared in front my soul ,
    you evil god hiding in this snake     !
    The bad seed you sowed into my breasts
    has stopped on the rock of faith     . —
    Even if you gathered thunders of all terrors     ,
    even if you cast the fires of Sodoma
    over the fields of my loving     :
    your voice only scares a faint heart     ,
    but, trust me, it shall never scare
    the firmness of my faithfulness     ! —

    126

    Zavolaj všetky šelmy satanov
    s pokladmi ?i so strelami:
    mocnejší vládne svojou obranou
    nad panenskými prsami! —
    Ja som sa jemu ve?ne oddala,
    prísaha srdcia naše zviazala,
    zruši? ju nieto mo?nosti;
    a nech svet vojská, delá posiela
    na lós môj, ja som mocná, veselá
    na známku mojej vernosti!

    All all the satans‘ beasts
    with treasures or with bullets:
    someone mightier comes to defend
    to protect the virgin breasts! —
    I have devoted myself to him forever,
    an oath has tied our hearts together,
    no way it could be taken back;
    and even if the world sent troops or canons
    upon my fate, I am powerful and merry

    in display of my faithfulness!
    127

    Strhnú? ti špatnú larvu obludy
    a vráti? ?udskú podobu
    chcela bych, ?o by v odmenu ?udi
    ?iadali moju porobu;
    ja bych rabky?ou bola ?loveka,
    duch tvoj v temnici diabla narieka,
    ?o sa otroctvom nadýma;
    le? to je právo duší a ?asu:
    láska len lásku, krása len krásu
    v obetiach ve?ných objíma.

    To rip off the ugly larva of the beast,
    bring back your human shape
    I would like, even if I should
    be enslaved in compensation for doing that     ;
    I would be the slave of a man     ,
    your spirit weeping in the devil’s jail
    that is swelling up with slavery     ;
    yet that is the right of souls and time     :
    love only embraces love, beauty embraces beauty
    in the eternal sacrifice     .

    128

    Aké?e blesky sú tvojho blaha?
    Východných perál hromady?
    Hrozien Madeiry prevzácna vlaha?
    ?i peruánske poklady?
    Hodvábnych postie? mäkká lahoda?
    ?i jedál chutných hojná pohoda?
    ?i hnát sa šarláty kryje? —
    Láska spa? na svoj pokoj chodieva,
    láska sa v krásy svoje odieva,
    láska lásku je aj pije! —

    What are the flashes of your bliss?
    Heaps of Eastern pearls     ?
    Or the precious moist in the grapes of Madeira     ?
    Or the treasures of Peru     ?
    The soft comfort of silky beds     ?
    Of tasty meals an abundance     ?
    Or is it the limb covered in scarlet     ? —
    Love goes to sleep upon her peace     ,
    love dresses in her own beauties     ,
    love only eats and drinks love     ! —

    129

    Aké sú hromy zlostných vlád sveta?
    ?i jesto aké neš?astie?
    Asná? jazykov zlostných klebeta?
    Asná? kde citrón nerastie?
    ?e len daktorí berlou vojvodia?
    ?e me?e v krvi ?ivej sa brodia?
    ?e kto sa zrodí, umiera?
    Hádam temnica, centové putá?
    A ?i nevinnos? v ohe? obutá? —
    Láske je bieda chiméra! —

    What are the thunders of the evil forces of the world ?
    Is there any misfortune at all     ?
    Is there a gossip of poisonous tongues     ?
    Does lemon not grow everywhere     ?
    Do only some of them rule with a crosier     ?
    Do swords bath in blood of the living     ?
    Does he who is born also die     ?
    Is there a dark cell, heavy shackles     ?
    Or is there innocence, dressed in fire     ? —
    Misery is nothing but a chimera to love     ! —
    130

    Trasie sa vina pred prísnym súdom,
    ?aká sa maznák chudoby,
    bojí sa slabos? bori? s osudom,
    strach nevie nazrie? za hroby,
    báze? pred vlastnou tô?ou sa chveje,
    ve?kos? malému strachu naleje,
    zúfalec nezná ve?né nádeje,
    otrok sa ?aká ru?nej poroby,
    telom zimni?né zvládnu choroby:
    láska sa strachu vysmeje! —

    The guilt is shaking in front of the strict trial,
    afraid is the spoiled of the poverty     ,
    weakness is afraid to fight the fate     ,
    fear is unable to look beyond grave     ,
    awe is fearing its own shadow     ,
    greatness pours fear into the small     ,
    desperate man knows no eternal hope     ,
    a slave is scared by work slavery     ,
    the body is wrecked by feverish illnesses     :
    love only laughs loud at fear     ! —

    131

    A ?ím vie peklo zdarnejšie hrozi?,
    ako ke? hroby spomína?
    Mô?e sa satan na smrtiach vozi?,
    mne je nesmrtnos? rodina:
    a moja vernos? a ?úbos? moja
    ?iada si chvíle, ?o duše spoja,
    ke? lásku ve?nos? zavije. —
    ?o je nesmrtnos?? Hrob všetkých hrobov,
    osoby milé jednou osobou:
    láska smr? ?itím zabije! —

    How better the hell can pose a threat,
    than with mentioning the graves     ?
    Satan may be riding on the deaths     ,
    immortality is my family     :
    and my faithfulness and my love
    asks for the moments that tie souls together     ,
    when love is wrapped in eternity     . —
    What is immortality     ? Grave of all grave,
    all persons loved by one person     :
    love shall defeat death by living! —

    132

    Milý môj! s tebou ?ije, umiera
    v?dy verná tvoja Marína,
    nech ju v objatí tvojom udiera
    jak chce bolesti hodina! —
    Ty ale, peklom vyslaná špata,
    vi? prste? tento — ?i je zo zlata,
    ?i z dreva, mne všetko jedno:
    Nezábudka tá, ?o na ?om svieti,
    so mnou ?asnosti brány preletí —
    uzri sa, aké si biedno!

    My beloved, with you, your Marína
    always faithful, lives and dies
    She cannot be hit in your arms
    by the hour of pain     ! —
    but you, ugly beast sent by hell     ,
    look at this ring     — be it made of gold,
    or of wood, I do not care     :
    Forget-me-not that is shining next to it     ,
    shall fly with me through the gates of mortality     —
    look at yourself – how miserable you are     !
    133

    A to prste? môj, môj prste?, milá,
    spod ru?e bielej s’ odkryla,
    vernosti vraha ním s’ oslepila,
    zrada sa lásky zdesila! —
    O?i sa šelme besno ziskrili,
    pysky sa jedom divým spenili,
    ale sila v ?om vymrela;
    ešte sa zvíja, ešte sa krúti —
    dobrota tvoja nad ním zasmúti —
    a noc ho ve?ná po?rela. —

    And it is my, ring, my ring, my beloved,
    that you have uncovered from underneath the white rose     ,
    you blinded the murderer of faithfulness with it     ,
    treachery was scared with love     ! —
    The eyes of the beast have sparkled wildly     ,
    the mouth got full of poisonous foam     ,
    but its power has gone     ;
    he is  still swirling, still turning      —
    your goodness will mourn him     —
    and the eternal night has swallowed him     . —

    134

    Vy, géniovia jasných ?úbostí,
    zrušte ?as, zrušte priestory,
    hodiny zmorte v mori ve?nosti,
    zvá?ajte protivné hory!
    Alebo hláste, bite na zvony,
    ?e láska nové dáva zákony,
    oby?aj m?tva ?e padá:
    Nech chýr ten š?astný svetom zazneje,
    ?e u? š?achetných duší nádeje
    nemorí osudov zrada!

    You, genii of clear loves,
    cancel the time, cancel the space     ,
    kill the hours in the sea of eternity     ,
    tear down the nasty mountain     !
    Or call out loud, toll the bells     ,
    that love gives new laws     ,
    that the dead habit is falling apart     :
    May the happy message sound in the world     ,
    that the hopes of noble souls
    shall no more be tortured by betrayal     !

    135

    Hron môj, Hron silný! rozká? tým vodám
    koryto rúba? cez hory,
    ku tým kvetnatým, zlatým dolinám,
    ktoré raj vysoký tvorí!
    Potom ja sadnem v ?lnka kolísku,
    vozi? ma budeš na lúku blízku,
    kde ona blúdi? chodieva;
    ona ti ka?dú vlnku pozdraví,
    spýta sa ka?dej: ?i je ten zdravý,
    ?o na tvojich brehoch spieva.

    My Hron, My mighty Hron! Tell those waters
    to make their way through the mountains     ,
    down to the flowering, golden valleys     ,
    created by highest paradise     !
    Then I shall sit down in the cradle of a boat     ,
    and you will row me to the close meadow     ,
    where she always comes to stray     ;
    she will greet every single wave     ,
    asking every wave if the one is safe     ,
    who comes singing upon your banks     .
    136

    A vy, sitnianskych skalín ozveny!
    krídla si bleskov pripnite
    a ka?dý jej vzdych mne zasvätený
    ku sestrám Holiam pošlite:
    Ona vás za to, ke? snehy zašli,
    vencami z kvetín vašich okrášli
    a s ka?dou zorou pozdraví:
    a ja s rados?ou k vám chcem chodieva?
    a v chválospevoch hlasných slávieva?
    vrch slávny rodinám Slávy!

    And you, echoes of the rocks of Sitno!
    Put on the wings of lightnings
    and every sigh she utters for me
    bring to the sisters mountains:
    when the snow is gone, she will
    decorate you with garlands of your flowers
    and greets you with every single dawn:
    and I want to be coming with joy to you

    and sing and celebrate in loud hymns

    the famous peak in the family of the Slavs
    137

    Ha! ?o to chy?ou mojou letelo? —
    Lampa sa dvojmo zjasnila,
    ako holúbka let zašumelo,
    krv sa mi k srdcu stesnila,
    kýsi cit blahý v srdci mi skvitol:
    ?o to? ?i nocou blesk slnca svitol?
    ?i je to pohronská Víla? —
    Nie je to ligot Fébovho syna,
    nie to šum devy od Lu?atína: —
    spomnela na m?a si milá.

    Hey ! What did just fly through my room? —
    the lamp shone twice as brightly     ,
    the sound resembled the flight of wings of a  dove     ,
    my blood rushed to the heart     ,
    such a pleasant emotion started blooming in my heart     :
    What’s that?     Did a flash of sunlight come in through the night?
    Is it the fairy living near Hron     ? —
    No, it’s not the glitter of the son of Phoebus     ,
    and it’s not the sound of the fairy     : —
    my beloved has just remembered me     .

    138

    Spomnela? Ha, ty zrada vernosti,
    nepriate? s tvárou anjela!
    ?i láska láske kvety ?úbosti
    len na okamih posiela? —
    Je to tá vernos?? Je to prísaha?
    Vzbúri ?a, zmámi a tu ?a nahá,
    nedbajúc tvoje náreky! —
    ?úbos? chce ve?nos?, spomienkam k?aje! —
    Ale ?o blud môj jej cnostiam laje?
    Ve? ja som pri nej naveky! —

    Remembered ? Oh, you betrayer of faithfulness,
    enemy with the face of an angel     !
    Does love send love the flowers of love
    only for a moment     ? —
    Is that the faithfulness     ? Is it an oath?
    It lifts you up, makes you blind  and leaves you here     ,
    not caring about your laments     ! —
    Love wants eternity, it curses the memories     ! —
    But why is my delusion scolding her virtues     ?
    For I am with her eternally     ! —

    139

    Na? bys’ ty, drahá, za hory tieto
    v spomienkach verných chodila?
    Ve? tu milého tvojho ti nieto,
    tým by si vernos? zhubila. —
    Nad Hronom jeden mládenec býva,
    kto zná, ?i ?ije, ?i sa len kýva,
    s de?mi sa hráva a sníva:
    Tam necho?, lebo to vás rozdvojí,
    ke? sa spomienka k nemu vystrojí,
    milý tvoj pri tebe stojí.

    Why would you, my dear, go past those mountains
    in your faithful memories     ?
    Your lover is not here     ,
    with that, you would kill the faithfulnes     . —
    There is one young man, living above Hron     ,
    who knows if he’s alive or if he’s just swaying     ,
    with children playing and dreaming     :
    Do not go there, as this will make you part     ,
    when a memory reaches him,
    your beloved is standing right next to you     .

    140

    Jednota duší, tá ?istá, vrelá,
    ona je, ?o v nás sa ?úbi,
    ke? zákon ?itia rozplaší telá,
    tým zväzok verný nezhubí:
    ale neš?astné vy, o?i moje!
    a úst vysmädlých tú?iace dvoje,
    vás rozlú?enie znivo?í!
    Srdce spanilé rado sa delí;
    š?astný, kto s pekným srdcom spriatelí
    aj med úst a slávu o?í! —

    Unity of souls , so pure, so warm,
    that is what is loved inside us     ,
    when the law of life turns bodies to dust     ,
    it does not kill a faithful bond     :
    unhappy are you, my poor eyes     !
    And you, two pairs of thirsty, longing  lips,
    for separation will destroy you     !
    A graceful heart likes to share     ;
    happy is he who makes a graceful heart friends
    with the honey of mouth and glory of eyes     ! —

    141

    Milo je ve?nom o jare sníva?,
    v myšlienkach svetmi sa nosi?,
    blaho od zeme k nebu sa dvíha?,
    slobodným re?aze nosi?,
    sladko je tú?i?, sladko spomína?,
    sladko je v nádejach sa pohýna?
    k skuto?nej bla?enstva zemi;
    slávno je, ke? zem s nebom sa spojí,
    kde si duch s telom krásne pristrojí
    nebesko-zemské objemy! —

    It is nice, dreaming about eternal spring ,
    walking among flowers in thoughts     ,
    it is blissful, rising to the heavens from earth     ,
    it is easy for the free to be wearing chains     ,
    it’s sweet to desire, sweet to remember     ,
    it’s sweet to move forward with hope
    towards the true glorious land     ;
    it’s a celebration when heavens meet the earth     ,
    when the spirit and the body both merge
    in a heavenly-earthly embrace     ! —
    142

    Neznáte doby, v ktorých slabosti
    sa v mohutnosti prerodia?
    Neznáte doby, v ktorých trpkosti
    cit sladký s sebou privodia?
    Neznáte rany, ?o uzdravujú?
    Neznáte š?astných, ktorí bedujú?
    Sebca, ?o sa obetuje? —
    Na moc ?úbosti tak si spomnite,
    a divnú dvojjednotu vidíte,
    kde sa duša dušu miluje.

    Don‘t you know the times in which

    weakneses turn into great virtues?
    Don‘t you know the times in which

    bitterness brings a sweet emotion with it?
    Don‘t you know wounds that heal?
    Don‘t you know happy ones who lament?
    A selfish man who sacrifices himself? —
    So remember the power of love,
    and you see a strange duality,
    where a soul loves another soul .

    143

    Ale všetkému hodiny bijú,
    ?itie za ?itím umiera,
    krásy sa v bezdnú minulos? kryjú,
    ?as, ten Skýt, svety zo?iera;
    ?as, nenápelník, pomníky zvá?a,
    ?as prachu poddá paláce krá?a,
    ?as kvety milé otrávi,
    ?as hviezdy zrá?a, more vysuší,
    ?as city stiera z bla?ených duší,
    ?as všetko zhubí aj spraví. —

    But the clock is ticking for everything,
    living after living passes away     ,
    beauties hide in a bottomless past     ,
    Time, that Scythian     , is swallowing worlds;
    time     ,  so reckless, pulls monuments down,
    time will yield the royal palaces to dust     ,
    time poisons lovely flowers     ,
    time shoots down the stars, dries the sea     ,
    time wipes away emotions from blissful souls     ,
    time kills and heals everything     . —

    144

    Ty pla?eš, krásna? — ?o bys’ smútila?
    Barbarstva ?asov sa neboj!
    Tvoja sa krása v duši mi skryla,
    ví?azstvo tebe a mne boj!
    ?ím duša moja ?ije a cíti,
    poklad krás tvojich mi neuchytí
    D?engis hodín, vekov Batu!
    A ke? raz dychom ostatným zdýmam,
    skelet tvoj ešte raz poobjímam
    a zlo?ím kos? suchú blatu. —

    Are you crying, beautiful? — Why would you be sad?
    Do not be afraid of the times of barbarism     !
    Your beauty has hidden inside my soul     ,
    victory to you , and fight to me     !
    What makes my soul live and feel     ,
    the treasure of your beauties shall not be stolen
    by Genghis of hours, ages of Batu     !

    And once I breath out my very last breath,
    I shall embrace your skeleton once again
    and then I lay my dry bone down in the mud     . —
    145

    Svet vraví, ?e mám diamanty v o?iach,
    anjelské farby na lícach,
    ka?dý vlas v mojich vraných vrko?iach
    ?e má krás vo stách, v tisícach,
    ?e v spevoch mojich nebo sa javí,
    ?e vládnem krásou ?arnou, svet vraví:
    Bárs je komusi to sláva,
    bárs posmech z chvál sa týchto ozýva,
    ?adrá diev?enské úzkos? prerýva,
    duša moja v ?ia?och pláva. —

    The world says  I have diamonds in my eyes ,
    angelic colours on my cheeks     ,
    and every single hair in on my raven-black head
    they say it has beauties of hundreds, thousands     ,
    that in my hymns, heaven appears     ,
    that I have magical beauty, they say     :
    May anyone find that glorious     ,
    may those praises  just laugh at me     ,
    the girl’s breasts are tortured with anxiety     ,
    my soul is swimming in sorrow     . —

    146

    V ?ia?och ?e krása krásy devinej
    slávy má len okam?enie,
    ?e ?as, ten divoch, slasti nevinnej
    raj z duše mladej vy?enie:
    ?e ako hlasy ve?erné zvona,
    ako šum tajný šumného Hrona,
    spev môj v prsia hluché bije,
    alebo ke? aj do ?ujných padá,
    i tam len svoje ?iale rozkladá
    a ich pokoj len rozryje. —

    In sorrows, the bauty of the pretty maid
    has only a moment of glory     ,
    time, the savage, will cast the paradise

    out of the young soul:
    Like the voices of the evening bell     ,
    like the mysterious song of the waters of Hron     ,
    my singing beats upon deaf chests     ,
    or even if it hits a hearing chest     ,
    it only spreads its sorrows there
    disrupting their peace     . —

    147

    V ?ia?och sa topí srdce diev?iny
    a bledý tie? zalieva tvár,
    ?e partu mladú strhnú hodiny
    a svadba je slobody kar;
    lebo mládenských krás vo?né krá?e
    svätá jej vernos? ?úbi? zaká?e;
    a starostí hrudnatý svet
    zahace peknú prázdnotu duší
    a búra hrubých robôt ohluší
    citov diev?ích pekný predmet!

    In sorrows drowns the heart of the maid
     and a white shade covers her face,
    that the young pack shall be torn down by hours
    and wedding is freedom’s burial-feast     ;
    because the jolly times of youthful freedom
    will be forbidden by the holy faithfulness     ;
    and that the world full of concerns
    will end the beautiful emptiness of souls
    and a storm of rough labour     will
    impair the  object of those high emotions     !
    148

    Duch devy pla?e, horko narieka
    nad ?úbosti svätej skazou,
    ?e kvet jej s po?ným kvietím uteká,
    krahne ostrím divých mrazov;
    ?úbos? devina je cit bez hlasu,
    vyšvihnú? nesmie sa nad zvyk ?asu,
    vyzna? musí, ?o neverí;
    poslušnú dušu úbohej dcéry
    s chlapom cudzím, ba odporným zverí
    studený prste? materi. —

    The spirit of the maid is crying, weeping sadly
    over  the doom of the holy love     ,
    that its flower vanishes with the field flowers     ,
    and faints upon the edge of wild frosts     ;
    the maid’s love is an emotion without a voice     ,
    it must not get above the habit of time     ,
    it must declare what it does not believe     ;
    obedient soul of a poor daughter
    with a strange, even repulsive man
    gives a cold ring to the mother. —

    149

    Bôle zaplavili ?adrá devy
    a krásy jej smútok stiera,
    ?e duše peknej sväté výlevy
    v medze úzke svet zaviera:
    ?o mô?e deva v sebe zalo?i??
    Ke? druh jej umrie, ako mô?’ o?i??
    Ach, pre devy cnos? po?a niet!
    Slu?ba jej panstvo, pokora hrozba,
    zbra? jej sú slzy, právo jej prosba,
    a ví?azstvo devy? — Obe?! —

    Pains have flooded maid’s breasts
    and her beauties are wiped off by sorrow     ,
    that the holy emotions of a beautiful soul
    are tightly restricted by the world     :
    What can a maid do for herself     ?
    When her lover dies, how can he revive     ?
    Oh, there is no virtue of dying in the field for maids     !
    Her kingdom is service, humility her menace     ,
    her weapon are her tears     , her right is her plea,
    and the maid’s victory     ? — Sacrifice! —

    150

    Oj, drahá moja, sestra spanilá,
    zotri slzy z hviezdnych o?í!
    Ver, ruka, ktorá krásu ranila,
    ranou vlastnou sa znivo?í:
    Obetuj sa len! — Ve? v tom sa snuje
    všetko, ?o ?lovek ?itím menuje:
    ?e moc ?udská, nástroj duší,
    skrze bezprávie právo dostáva,
    ke? padá svetu, Bohu povstáva,
    nebo stavia, ke? zem ruší! —

    Oh, my dear, my graceful sister,
    wipe the tears off your starry eyes     !
    Believe     , the hand that harmed the beauty,
    shall perish by its own power     :
    Just sacrifice thyself     ! — for it comprises
    everything the man calls living     :
    that human power, the tool of souls     ,
    gets its right through injustice     ,
    what falls in the world rises to God     ,
    heaven builds when the earth terminates     ! —

    151

    Peknoty tvoje vzlietnu do svetov,
    kde ?riedla sú bla?enstva krás,
    tam oven?í ?a z nezvädlých kvetov
    rukou svätou pletený pás:
    Tam tvoja krása v slávu sa zmení,
    pekný duch hrudou tu ob?a?ený
    v priezra?ný tie? sa zahalí;
    jasný šat duše zore obstanú
    a duše slncia, o?i, dostanú
    vzývania miesto pochvaly. —

    Your beauties shall ascend into worlds ,
    where the gracefulness of beauty springs     ,
    there it will wreath you with non-withered flowers
    a wreath made by a holy hand     :
    There, your beauty shall turn into glory,
    beautiful spirit, burdened with soil here
    shall veil into translucent shadow     ;
    glorious dawn shall surround the bright dress of the soul

    and the suns of the soul, the eyes, will get
    adorations instead of praise     . —

    152

    Ale na? spievam tomuto svetu
    krás jej nebeské zjavenie?
    Ve? on za pravdu dr?í klebetu,
    skuto?nos? mu je mámenie. —
    U? kri?í: „?udia! tento je v blude,
    takých krás nenie, ani nebude!“
    A listy tieto rozdrapí: —
    Dobre máš! ve? tie moje piesenky
    sú proti krásam mojej milenky
    vskutku len tône a strapy!

    But why am I singing to this world
    about the heavenly appearance of her beauties     ?
    This world takes a mere gossip for truth     ,
    delusion is reality in it     . —
    It’s shouting     : „People! This man is in delusion,
    there are no such beauties, and will never be     !“
    And it tears into pieces these pages: —
    Well done! For these songs of mine are,
    compared to the real beauties of my love,
    nothing but shadows and fragments     !

    153

    Bratko! krkavec diamant ukradne,
    do smetí hniezda ho skrýva:
    ?i on, ?e poklad je to, uhádne,
    ke? na? sa, mrcho?rá?, díva? —
    Prázdny bo?skosti Boha neslávi,
    a o ideách medve? mumlavý
    v zápaloch svätých nevraví;
    krása krásy sa len krásnym zjaví,
    len láska chápe lásky výšavy,
    sláva len slávnych oslávi.

    Brother ! A raven steals the diamond,
    hides in in the trash of his nest     :
    does it reckon that it is a treasure     ,
    scavenger, while it’s observing it     ? —
    Empty one does not celebrate the greatness of God     ,
    and a murmuring bear does not talk about ideas
    in frenetic speeches     ;
    the beauty of beauty only appears to the beautiful     ,
    only love can understand the heights of love     ,
    and only glory celebrates the glorious ones     .
    154

    To some of them, love has appeared
    as a pair of pigeons or doves     ;
    to others it was a flaming emotional fire
    burning from heart to mouth     ;
    to some, it appeared as a divine shot     ,
    to some, it became a golden bond     ,
    to others, it hides in flowers     :
    And to me, love comes in terrible signs     ,
    in thunder-stormy glorious pictures
    echoing with glory and grace     ! —

    Jedným sa ?úbos? v holúbkov páre

    lebo v hrdli?kách zjavila;

    druhým v plamennom citov po?iare

    od srdca k ústam pálila;

    tým striel podobu na seba vzala,

    týmto sa putom zlatým zazdala,

    inším sa v kvietky ukrýva:

    A mne sa ?úbos? v strašných úkazoch,

    v hromo-bleskových ve?kých obrazoch

    ú?asno-slávne ozýva! —

    155

    Osudy moje kryjú ?ier?avy,
    svet je studený, my vrelí;
    v bití jej srdca hrom sa mi javí,
    v blesku jej o?í blesk strely.
    Vernos? jej prsiam mojim podala
    magnet Franklinov, aby blýskala
    len mne v srdce ohne lásky. —
    Porekadlo, ?e dia? je od hroma,
    kto ?alej býva vraj od Paroma:
    mne je tá pravda v otázky.

    My fates are covered by dark clouds,
    the world is cold, we are hot     ;
    I hear thunders in her heartbeat     ,
    I see a flash of a shot in the flash of her eyes     .
    To my chest, her faithfulness has given
    Franklin’s magnet, so that she could flash
    the fires of love only into my heart     . —
    The saying goes, that the further from thunder

    is he who lives further from Parom:
    I happen to question this truth     .

    156

    ?ím dia? ma nesie moje ur?enie,
    tým vä?šmi blesk jej ma páli,
    tým mohutnejšie tú?by búrenie
    do ?adier mojich sa valí:
    Ale ke? pri nej — ke? pri nej stojím,
    ?e uho? spravia zo m?a, sa bojím,
    jej krásot blýskavé prasky;
    a ke? ju ruka moja objíma,
    všetky mi údy lomiac prejíma
    moc elektri?ná jej lásky.

    The further my destiny is taking me ,
    the more I am burnt with her flash     ,
    the more desire for her I get
    into my very chests     :
    But when I’m standing     — standing next to her,
    I am afraid that I will be burnt to ashes     ,
    by the crackling flashes of her beauties     ;
    and when my hand wraps around her,
    through my whole body, I can feel
    the electrifying power of her love     .
    157

    Ku jej vernosti moja primrela
    v nekone?ný jednoty ráz,
    môj ?ivot ona v svojom zavrela,
    ona, vidím mojich obraz!
    A nech dnes padne sveta opona,
    bárs bych ja mohol, bárs chcela ona,
    ni?, ni? zväzok náš nezruší!
    A ke? zhu?í hlas smrtného zvona,
    v krajoch zazvoní Orióna
    harmónia našich duší.

    With her faithfulness, mine has merged,
    in the infinite unity     ,
    she has enclosed my life within hers     ,
    in her, I can see my own picture     !
    And even if today the world‘s curtain fell,
    even if I could and and even if she wanted to     ,
    nothing, nothing can break our bond     !
    And when the voice of the death bell screams,
    within the realms of the Orion
    the harmony of our souls shall sound     .

    158

    ?i vidíš, drahá, tie vodné hory?
    ?i vidíš ?ivlov divý boj?
    Vlna sa s vlnou zúfale borí:
    kde tu tichos?, kde tu pokoj?! —
    Ty zosta?, moja, na brehoch milých,
    v kvetinách teš sa hájov spanilých
    a snívaj tiché sny ?itia:
    U? veslom klope ?ln nedo?kavý,
    m?a nech ?i k hrobu, ?i k brehom slávy
    búrne moci tieto schytia!

    Can you see, my dear, those mountains of water ?
    Can you see the fierce fight of the elements     ?
    A wave is desperately fighting other waves     :
    where is silence here? Where is peace?     ! —
    You stay, beloved, upon the lovely bank     ,
    enjoy the flowers in the blossoming groves
    and dream the silent dreams of living     :
    Impatient boat knocks with the paddle     ,
    Either to grave or towards glory
    those stormy powers shall bring me     !

    159

    ?i vidíš, moja, tie divé vody?
    ?i vidíš ten príchodzí ?ln? —
    Hoj, more, pekný obraz slobody,
    navrch vezmi ma svojich v?n! —
    A strašný ohlas oceán hu?í:
    Mládenec devu v svojom náru?í
    túli ku srdcu vernému:
    a ona rukou hrdlo objíma
    a ústa k vrelým ústam prijíma
    a vrúcne vinie sa k nemu.

    Can you see, beloved, those raging waters?
    Say, can you see the incoming boat     ? —
    Hey, sea, a beautiful image of freedom ,
    take me on the back of your waves     ! —
    And the ocean casts a terrible echo     :
    The young man holds the maid in his arms
    cuddles her to his faithful heart     :
    and she puts her hand around his neck,
    her mouth kisses his passionate lips, 
     and she firmly cuddles to him.
    160

    Jak ke? po?ovník srnku by zduril
    spod kvetného kruhu chladu,
    tak rozlú?enia ohlas pobúril
    myse? hrdú, dušu mladú:
    Odvia? ten ?lnok! spolu sadnime,
    padajme spolu, aj spolu ?ime,
    jedno to, ?i boj, ?i pokoj!
    ?o je ru?iacich v?n týchto sila?
    Vyššia moc s tebou m?a zjednotila,
    s tebou, milý mládenec môj!

    As if the hunter scared a deer
    out of the cold circle of flowers     ,
    so the voice of parting has inflamed
    the proud mind and the young soul     :
    untie that boat     ! Let us row together,
    let us fall together, and live together     ,
    it doesn’t matter if there’s fight or peace     !
    What is the power of the roaring waves     ?
    Much higher power has united me with you     ,
    with you, my beloved lover!

    161

    Mohutný je hlas tvojej ?úbosti,
    drahá duša mojej duši!
    Ale ?i hlasy diev?ej útlosti
    osudov hrom neohluší?
    Tys’ lásky slasti u? okúsila,
    ale nenávis? si neskúsila,
    ktorá v divých svetoch brojí.
    Tak osta?, milá, v tichom pokoji,
    na ?as nás osud porozdvojí,
    na ve?nos? nás potom spojí. —

    Mighty is the voice of your love ,
    you, the soul dearest to my soul     !
    But won’t the tiny maiden’s voice
    be interrupted by the thunders of fates     ?
    You have experienced the pleasures of love     ,
    but you have not met hatred yet     ,
    which grudges in wild worlds     .
    So stay, my dear, in a silent peace     ,
    for a time, the fate will make us part     ,
    and then it binds us for eternity     . —

    162

    O?i švárnej sa hnevom ziskrili,
    ruku strhla z mu?ských väzov:
    ?i máš ty milú, zradca môj milý,
    z pokolenia zemeplazov? —
    Nehodná som ja za veci slávy
    aj ?i?, aj umiera?? — Chlap ostýchavý,
    v ?lne ty cho?, ja viem pláva?! —
    Azda tie ruky, ?o vzia? ma nechcú,
    ke? nad mrúcou sa vody zarehcú —
    pozde — budeš mi podáva?! —

    Her graceful eyes have sparkled with ange ,
    she ripped her hand off the manly neck     :
    Do you gave a lover, you ugly traitor

    of the family of earth crawlers? —
    I am not worth living and dying
    for the sake of the glory     ? — You bashful man,
    you take the boat, I can swim     ! —
    Perhaps those hands, unwilling to take me     ,
    when the waters will laugh over my dying     —
    it will be too late to stretch them to me     ! —
    163

    Podaj mi ruku, ve?kocitá,
    k vysokým tým duší horám,
    kde sláva v zlatých bleskoch svitá
    slobodných srdcí priestorám!
    Z výšin tých h?a?me v zmätok nízky,
    ?o ?itím k hrobu od kolísky,
    ?itím slabých duší vládne:
    Kde srdce za krásu horí,
    ?úbos? svet vlastný si stvorí,
    nech potom prach v prachu schladne.

    Give me your hand, you of immense emotion ,
    stretch it to the mountains of the souls     ,
    where the glory dawns in golden lightnings
    in the spaces of free hearts     !
    From that height, let’s look down to the turmoil     ,
    that reigns with living from the cradle to the grave     ,
    reigns with the living of weak souls     :
    Where the heart flames for beauty     ,
    love creates its own world     ,
    so that then the dust shall get cold in the dust     .

    164

    Vsta?, ?itia môjho pekná dru?ica,
    polm?tvych snov sa sprostime!
    U? ru?oprstá kýva zornica,
    šírym svetom sa pustime!
    Vsta?, moja! vi?me tvár zeme, neba;
    pod seba, kolo seba, nad seba
    zrakmi ?úbosti pozrime!
    Vsta? drahá! smelo nad ?udské biedy,
    nad zemských bô?ov odporné jedy
    na krídlach lásky vzlietnime!

    Get up, you pretty companion of my living,
    let us get rid of those half-dead dreams     !
    The morning star is twinkling already     ,
    let us go in the wide, wide world     !
    Get up     , my dear! let‘s see the face of earth and skies;
    let us look around us, below us above us
    through the eyes of love     !
    Get up, my precious     ! Let us boldly fly above human miseries,
    above disgusting poisons of earthly sorrows -
    let’s fly on the wings of love     !

    165

    Kde ma to vedieš, kde, druh môj milý?
    Ve? nám zem z o?í zmizela!
    Tam, ke? cit pekné hviezdy vábili,
    nad hlavu v?dy som pozrela:
    Teraz sa všade vôkol nás trasú,
    jak sa pod Sitnom jahnence pasú
    vôkol bystrého pastiera. —
    Vidíš tých svetov nebeských zväzky?
    Ako milostne tie zlaté vlásky
    jedna na druhú prestiera!

    Where are you leading me, my beloved man?
    The land has vanished from our sights     !
    When the nice stars evoked my emotion     ,
    I have always looked above my head     :
    Now, they are shivering all around us     ,
    resembling the lambs grassing under Sitno
    around a clever shepherd     . —
    Can you see the bonds of the heavenly worlds     ?
    One star spreads her golden hair
    upon another, filled with love     !
    166

    Zdá sa, ?e jestli jedna z nich padne,
    celý ich k?de? zahynie,
    zato z nich ?iadna nezblúdi zradne

    a jedna k druhej sa vinie:
    Práve tak naše srdcia tie? ?ijú,
    vjedno sa vinú a vjedno bijú.
    Kto  zráta tie milióny? —
    ?o planét nový, to nová sláva! —
    Tu ?udským dušiam bo?stvo podáva
    ?ivota sväté zákony!


    It seems that when one of them falls ,
    the whole flock of them will die     ,
    but none of them can go astray
     and one cuddles to another:
    This is how our hearts do live as well     ,
    they merge in one, beat in unison     .
    Who can count those millions     ? —
    Every new planet means new glory     ! —
    here, the divine being is handing to humans
     the sacred laws of life !

    167

    To bo?ie slnce vprostriedku stojí,
    cár ve?ký v svojich rodinách,
    okolo neho všetko sa rojí,
    krúti vo ve?ných krajinách:
    Tak v ?itia nášho spolku premilá
    rozmanitos? sa tie? rozlo?ila
    v obec zázra?nej šírosti;
    svätá cnos? v centre srdca horuje,
    vôkol nej viera, láska koluje,
    jak hviezdy prvej ve?kosti.

    This divine sun is standing in the middle,
    a great Czar within his big families     ,

    Everything is swarming around him ,
    turning in the eternal land     :
    So the unity of our living, my beloved,
    has become manifold
    and magically wide     ;
    the holy virtue in the centre of the heart     ,
    love and faith are orbiting around it     ,
    like the stars of the greatest magnitude     .

    168

    ?o majú tieto svetov lampady
    s mokrou Adrie hladinou?
    ?i v zrkadle tom vidia sa rady?
    ?i blankyt mora rodinou? —
    Pozri, tam hviezdy si posadali,
    akoby nebom dia? nevládali
    a novú by pili vládu:
    Pozri tam, drahá, spus?me sa zhora,
    tam moci neba a moci mora
    v jednom vidíme poh?adu.

    What do these worlds have in common
    with the wet level of Adria     ?
    Do they like their reflections in that mirror     ?
    Or is the azure of the sea their family     ? —
    Look, the stars are seated there     ,
    as if they couldn’t go any further in the sky
     and they drank a new power:
    Look there, my dear, let’s descend from above     ,
    there, we can see the powers of heaven and of the sea
    through one sight     .

    169

    Vodný ty obor! aby ?a z Ríma
    bohy?a lásky strestala!
    Z jednej ?a strany Turcia objíma,
    z druhej ohnivá Itala!
    Vi?, moja! Sultán tento neverný
    milenec dvoch je krások mizerný,
    obidvom poklady nosí:
    Vernejšie Atlant Angliu ?úbi,
    on ju, vidiac ju v dlabe záhuby,
    slzou ?útosti porosí.

    You water giant, may the Roman
    goddess of love punish you     !
    From one side, Turcia (Turkey) is hugging you     ,
    from other side, the fiery Italia (Ttaly)     !
    See, my dear     ! This unfaithful sultan
    is a miserable lover of two beauties,
    bringing the  treasures to both     :
    The Atlantic loves Anglia (England) much more faithfully     ,
    seeing her in the paw of doom     ,
    he sprinkles her with a pitiful tear     .

    170

    Tie pekné brehy jaro bozkáva,
    jaro, útlosti zrkadlo,
    tisíc ?ivotov z m?tvych povstáva,
    tisíc ich od zimy padlo.
    Môj, ?i po?uješ? Hrdli?ka v háji
    hrkúta, h?adá v zelenom kraji
    tú?obne svojho milého. —
    Marína tvoja teba h?adala,
    ke? ?a jej dia?ka ukrutná vzala
    z rukú do sveta šíreho.

    Those pretty banks are kissed by spring,
    spring, the mirror of subtleness     ,
    thousands of lives arise from the dead,
    thousands have fallen from cold.
    My dear     , can you hear? A dove in the grove
    cooing, looking in the green land
    longing for her lover     . —
    Your Marína was seeking you     ,
    when the merciless distance took you
    from her hands into the wide world     .

    171
    Na?o ty, drahá, chváliš tie doby
    detinstva mdlého obrazy?
    Na ne ja vediem smutné ?aloby,
    oplakal by ich sto razy.
    ?o som znal v jarnom ?ivota ?ase
    o láske tvojej, o tvojej kráse? —
    V jari sa krása len rodí:
    Ten leta ohe?, tá vrelos? mladá,
    tá mladých duší nadšená vláda
    ovocie z kvetu vyvodí. —

    Why are you, dear, praising the times
    images of the faint childhood     ?
    I am sadly complaining about them     ,
    I would cry for them hundred times     .
    What did I know in the springtime of life
    about your love, about your beauty     ? —
    in the spring, the beauty is only born     :
    That fire of summer, the young flame     ,
    the enthused reign of young souls
    shall bring the fruits out of flowers     . —
    172

    Ke? sme pod lipou našou sedeli
    v ten ve?er, pamätáš, moja?
    O?ltlé lístky šumno leteli
    na hodváb tvojho závoja;
    ?ia? sa rozlo?il po tvojej tvári,
    ?e jese? chladná kvetiny marí,
    stromy z ich rúcha zodiera;
    a lipa vtedy moc lístkov spustí
    a v páde lístkov divo zašustí:
    š?astný, kto v obe? umiera! —

    When we were sitting under our lime
    that evening, remember, my dear     ?
    The yellow leaves were flying
    down on the silk of your veil     ;
    sorrow has spilled over your face     ,
    that the cold autumn was killing the flowers     ,
    ripping trees off their own clothes     ;
    and the lime lets down a bunch of leaves
    and the sound of the falling leaves goes wildly     :
    blessed is he who dies in sacrifice     ! —

    173

    Ka?dý de? nové slnce vychodí
    a z m?tvych vstáva príroda;
    bolestí duch, ke? ve?kos? sa rodí;
    z otroctva kvitne sloboda:
    Zúfal by ?ivot v ve?nej jednote,
    premeny plodia sladkos? v ?ivote,
    umrie? chce, ?o zostará,
    sladký zisk nosí aj horká strata:
    tak smr? ?ivotom len slávne vráta
    do nesmrtnosti otvára.

    A new sun rises every day
    and nature rises from the dead;
    the spirit aches when greatness is born     ;
    freedom flowers from slavery     :
    Desperate would be the life in eternal unity     ,
    the changes bring sweetness to life     ,
    what grows old , it wants to die     ,
    even a bitter loss brings a sweet gain     :
    so the death only opens
    the glorious gates to  immortality     .

    174

    Vy, naše Hole, na vašich horách

    jak slávne sneh ten sa belie!

    S ?úbos?ou h?adia v ra?ajších zorách

    na vás doliny veselé:

    Kvetom vy bielym v zime kvitnete,

    a hory menšie ven?ia sa v lete:

    ve?kos? má zvláštne koleje. —

    Na sne?né jedle obzri sa, milá!

    Pod bielos? tam sa zelenos? skryla:

    pod svätos? naše nádeje.

    You, our hills , how graceful is the white
    snow on the mountains tall     !
    In the morning glow, they look with love
    upon the merry valleys of yours     :
    In winter you bloom with white flower     ,
    and smaller mountains get garlands in summer     :
    greatness has truly strange ways     . —
    Look back at the snowy firs, my beloved     !
    The green has hid under the white     :
    underneath holiness have hid our hopes     .
    175

    Jak sa de? zimný v tom svojom jasne
    s ob?ubou tajnou uzerá: —
    tak ?ahko dýcha, tak le?í š?astne
    svetov zmrznutých medzera! —
    Drobné kvap?i?ky sa objímajú,
    sne?né iskri?ky bleskmi f?kajú:
    ?úbos? ohe? je, a nie mráz? —
    Kollár ju „oh?om chladným“ menuje.
    Aj v ?adoch ešte sa mi zjavuje,
    krásna, tvojho srdca obraz! —

    Like the winter day in its brightness
     secretly admiring itself: —
    So easily breathing, so happily lying
    is the gap between the frozen worlds     ! —
    Tiny droplets are hugging each other     ,
    sparkling snowy sparks, flashing     :
    love shall be fire     , not frost? —
    Kollár has called her „a cold fire“.
    Even in ice, it still appears     ,
    my beautiful, the image of your heart     ! —

    176

    Ach, zlomky drahé krásnej postavy!
    Kde vrah ten, ?o vás rozmetal?
    Len skamenelé ?asti jej hlavy! —
    Kto takú vra?du pamätal? —
    Tu diamant o?í — tu úst rubíny,
    tu opál z ?ela mojej Maríny,
    tu zo šiat smaragdov kusy! —
    Jej srdce, jej cit nebo si vzalo,
    mne strašné tieto zvleky nechalo!
    ?i tu si, anjel môj? — Tu si!

    Ah, precious fragments of pretty body !
    Where is the murderer who cast you all around     ?
    Only some petrified parts of her head     ! —
    Who has ever seen such a murder     ? —
    Here diamonds of eyes     — there the ruby lips,
    here’s the opal from my Mar     ína‘s forehead,
    here are some bits of emeralds from her dress     ! —
    Her heart, her emotion was taken by heaven     ,
    leaving only those terrible remnants for me     !
    Are you here, my angel?     — Here you are!

    177

    Ty sa usmievaš, moja? — Pokojne
    na zmätok druha sa dívaš?
    po?kaj, odplatím ja ti to dvojne,
    ke? sa do hrôzy zasnívaš.
    A v tom úsmešku tvojom zdá sa mi
    zúbok satiry hýba? ústami,
    myslíš si: Tento je sprostý! —
    Svet celý zvolaj! Ak je nie slepý,
    nu? s podivením o?i vylepí
    na tieto o vlas rovnosti. —

    You’re smiling, dear ? — Peacefully

    observing the confusion of your partner?
    Just wait, I pay you back double     ,
    when you will be dreaming of terrors     .
    And in your scoff, I can see
    a thorn of satire moving its lips     ,
    you may think     : This man is stupid! —
    Call all the world     ! If it isn‘t blind,
    it will be gazing in wonder
    upon these close matches     . —
    178

    Na Sitne vlajú krásy Maríny. —
    Pozri v tie kraje, môj milý,
    ku Ke?kemétu, kde pustatiny
    divé si stany rozbili:
    Kedy tie našej vlasti Sahary
    ohreje láska, krása o?iari? —
    Oj, má tu láska tie? hody!
    Tichos? pokoja sa tuto skryla
    pred svetom a v nej bozkáva milá
    rtom vrelým syna prírody.

    The beauties of  Marína are flying over Sitno. —
    Look at those lands, my dear     ,
    down to Kecskemet     , where the wastelands
    have opened their wild camps     :
    When will the Saharas of our homeland
    be warmed by love, lit by beauty     ? —
    Oh, here, love is also feasting     !
    Silence of peace has hidden here
    from the whole world and my beloved
    kisses here with warm lips the son of nature     .

    179

    V húš?ach bakonských temnoty smútia,
    ?e v nich je m?tvo, bez citu
    a ?e nerosí slza pohnutia
    zem v tô?ach vekov ukrytú.
    ?i vetrík s lístím tam nezahráva?
    Na svoju pekný vták nevoláva?
    Blesk ?i tam k tôni netú?i?
    Aj tam sa trávka jaru usmieva,
    aj tam sa východ v zlato odieva,
    ku kvietku zora pridru?í.

    In the dense bushes, the darkness and sorrow,
    lamenting that they’re dead, emotionless
    and that the tear of emotion
    won’t water the soil hidden in the shades of times     .
    Doesn’t the wind play with the leaves there     ?
    Doesn’t a nice bird there sing for his mate     ?
    Doesn’t a lightning desire for water     ?
    The grass has a green smile in the spring     ,
    also there, the East dresses in gold     ,
    and the sun shines upon flowers     .

    180

    Syn Anadira na hlas ?úbosti
    hory snehové prebrodí
    a na ?adové brehov výsosti
    silou sa orla vyhodí:
    Z Ázie brehov na milú volá
    na kraj druhého sveta polkola,
    ohlas sa vráti láskavý;
    a jakby Romeo vernú Júliu
    u? na rozlu?né ku prsiam túlil,
    tak divoch devu pozdraví.

    The son of Anadir wades snowy mountains
    upon the calling of love
    and he flies with eagle’s  strengt     h
    up to their icy heights     :
    Calling his beloved from the shores of Asia
    to the other part of the world half around the globe     ,
    a loving echo comes back to him     ;
    And like Romeo would greet his faithful Juliet
    cuddling her before leaving her goodbye     ,
    so does the savage greet the maid     .
    181

    No, ?o mám h?ada? na Himaláji,
    na Kordillerách svet lásky!
    Po peknom našom tatranskom kraji
    nájdem ho vcelku i s?iastky:
    A na? bych k Havranici letela?
    ?o bych na Krivá? vznáša? sa chcela? —
    Sitno je ?úbosti hora!
    Len tvoje, milý, prsia otvorím,
    a tu sa dušou celou zanorím
    do vlastnej ?úbosti mora!

    Well, why shall I look in Himalayas,
    In Cordilleras for the world of love     !
    Around our pretty country at Tatras
    I can find it in pieces and as a whole     :
    Why would I fly to Havranica     ?
    Why would I fly to     Krivá?? —
    Sitno is the mountain of love!
    Only your chest, my beloved, will I open,
    and I immerse my whole soul
    into the sea of my own love     !

    182

    Tie ?asy tajdú. ?itia obrazy
    miznú jak tône blankyta
    a hne? zabúria víchrice skazy,
    hne? š?astia výslnie svitá.
    Za letom leto prudko sa valí,
    a kto dnes ešte tvár svoju chváli,
    zajtra u? padá bez vlády;
    hodina ka?dá pás v ?elo ryje:
    ale kto láske a kráse ?ije,
    ten ve?ne zostane mladý.

    Those times are ending. Images of life
    disappear like the clearness of blue sea
    and the winds of doom are raging     ,
    and then the sunshine of happiness dawns     .
    Summer after summer, rolling wildly     ,
    and he who is praising his own face today     ,
    he falls tomorrow, powerless     ;
    Every hour carves a line in the forehead     :
    but he who lives for love, beauty instead     ,
    he shall remain eternally young     .

    183

    Mlados?, ot?ina horiacej túhy!
    Mlados?, vrelých citov skala!
    Mlados?, ty obraz nádejnej dúhy!
    Mlados?, ty lásky Valhala!
    Mlados?, ty prero? ?ivota brehy
    a zápalom stop m?tvosti snehy,
    ?o chladných srdcí moc kryjú!
    Ty duchom svojím vzkries aj tie telá,
    na ktorých schladlé starobou ?elá
    smutné Hóry vrásky ryjú!

    Youth, fatherland of burning desire !
    Youth,  rock of flaming emotions     !
    Youth, you image of hopeful rainbow     !
    Youth, you Valhalla of love     !
    Youth, you transform the shores of life
    and melt the dead snows ardently     ,
    that cover the power of cold hearts     !
    You, with your spirit, resurrect also the bodies     ,
    upon which foreheads, cold with age,
    the sad hours are carving wrinkles     !
    184

    Mlados?! ?i tvoje milé zápaly
    nie sú ohne svetlonosov?
    Mlados?! ?i tvojich tú?ob kryštály
    nie sú slabou rána rosou? —
    Oj, na? by nebo mohutnos? dalo,
    keby mladistvé len sníva? malo
    ?udstvo zlaté kiesi hory! —
    Mladosti vädnú, mlados? je ve?ná,
    ona je v zvratoch ?asov bezpe?ná,
    lebo z ?asov ve?nos? tvorí.

    Youth! Aren‘t your beautiful ardencies
    the fires of light-bearers     ?
    Youth     ! aren‘t the crystals of your desires
    drops of the mild morning dew     ? —
    Oh, why would heavens grant us greatness     ,
    if the youthful should only be dreaming
    about somebody’s golden mountains     ! —
    The young ones wither, but youth is eternal     ,
    she is safe in the twists of times     ,
    because she creates eternity from times     .

    185

    A ?o je mlados?? — Dvadsa?pä? rokov?
    Ru?ových tvárí hla? jará?
    ?i údov sila? ?i strmos? krokov?
    Toto sa všetko zostará!
    Mlados? je tú?ba ?ivá po kráse,
    je hlas nebeský v zemskom ohlase,
    je nepokoj duší svätý,
    je tá mohutnos?, ?o slávu h?adá,
    je kvetín lásky rajská záhrada,
    je anjel v prachu zaviaty!

    And what is youth ? — Twenty five years?
    The vivid smoothness of pink cheeks     ?
    Or the power of limbs     ? Or steepness of the walk?
    All this shall just grow old     !
    Youth is a living desire for beauty     ,
    it’s heavenly voice in earthly echo     ,
    it’s the holy unrest of the souls     ,
    it’s the greatness that seeks glory     ,
    it’s the garden of Eden with flowers of love     ,
    it’s an angel, covered in dust     !

    186

    Nezverte, ?udia, tô?am letiacim
    zázra?né tieto poklady,
    údom nad hrobom pozdným k?a?iacim
    útechu daj, anjel mladý!
    Špatný mládenec, ?o šedín mdloby
    po kvetoch svojej jarnej podoby
    ako mrazné hmly rozlo?í!
    Pekný to Nestor, ?o ve?nos? mladú
    nedá si zaklia? osudov ?adu,
    ani zastrie? obraz bo?í. —

    People, do not entrust these magical treasures
    to the shadows that are flying by

    to the limbs kneeling above grave
    oh bring them consolation, youthful angel     !
    A wicked young man is he who lays his faints of gray     hair
    around the flowers of his earlier image
    like the freezing fogs     !
    Pretty is the Nestor, who does not let the young eternity

    to be bewitched with the ice of fates,
    neither does he let the divine image to be covered     . —
    187

    Na brehoch Hrona šuhaj sa brodí
    po lúkach kvetných, rodinných,
    sviato?né slnce slávne zachodí
    do mrakov, do krajov iných;
    a hlavu kloní mládenec tichý,
    akoby lie?ne kvetín kalichy
    prezeral ranám k obleve;
    a zas o?ma sa nesie k oblakom,
    akoby bô?no mladým tým zrakom
    bolo hni? v zemskosti pleve.

    Young man is walking at the bank of Hron
    on meadows familiar, flowering     ,
    festive sun sets down gloriously
    into the clouds, in different lands     ;
    and the silent young man bows his head,
    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
    to rot down here in the earthly chaff     .

    188

    Ach, sladké sú to mladých hodiny,
    v ktorých ?ia? sladko hovorí,
    v ktorých hne? v nebies lietaš výšiny,
    hne? v ?ivlov zemských priestory,
    a cítiš naraz i nebies slasti,
    i pekných svetov vábne priepasti
    a v tej vo?nosti umieraš:
    Nádejí tisíc k duši ti letí,
    a hviezda slávy nová ti svieti,
    ke? na tej západ pozeráš.

    Oh, sweet are the hours of the young ,
    in which sorrow speaks sweetly     ,
    in which you fly into heavenly heights     ,
    and in the realms of earthly elements     ,
    and at the same time, you feel the pleasures of heavens     ,
    and the luring abyss of pretty worlds

    and you die within that freedom:
    thousands of hopes flying to your soul     ,
    and a new star of glory shines for you     ,
    when you’re looking at her going down     .

    189

    Ach, smutné sú to mladých hodiny,
    v ktorých slas? smutno hovorí,
    v ktorých z pozemských svetov ní?iny
    srdce k ve?nosti zahorí,
    zahorí tú?bou, vylietne mocou,
    ale pod hluchou podlosti nocou
    vrstovník jeho zostáva:
    Jak ?i? pri hrobnom milenky krí?i?
    Jak vznies? sa, ke? ?a ve?nos? poní?i?
    Oj, svetov neslávna sláva! —

    Oh, sad are those hours of the young ,
    in which the pleasure sadly talks     ,
    in which the heart flames for eternity
    from the lowlands of the earthly worlds     ,
    flames with desire     , flies with power,
    but in the deaf treachery of the night
    his fellow comrade stays     :
    How to live at the tombstone of your lover     ?
    How to fly when eternity humiliates you     ?
    Oh, the infamous glory of the worlds     ! —
    190

    A vlny Hrona stíchli, zastali,
    ctiac si myšlienky šuhaja,
    a šumie? šumom vábnym prestali
    lístky z jelšín jarých hája;
    a ako pastier ?ujný sa schytí,
    ke? hlas liatovcov ?ltých necíti,
    z vo?avej kvetín posteli:
    tak sa mládenec trhol, zastavil,
    ke? sa šum rieky v tichosti preplavil
    a jelše šuš?a? nechceli.

    And the waves of Hron stood silent, still,
    honouring the thoughts of the young man     ,
    and they stopped hissing with their luring noise
    them leaves of the  green alder groves     ;
    and like the alert shepherd stands up     ,
    when he cannot hear the voices of the cast bells
    lying on his scented bed of flowers     :
    so the young man twitched and stopped     ,
    when the river waters silently     swam
    and the alders refused to sound     .

    191

    Hron sa zas valí k skale od skaly,
    zašplechtal o breh k rozchodu,
    a tri sa jelše šumno zhýbali
    nad jasnú slovenskú vodu,
    a zdvihli ?osi, vetry zaviali,
    a jelše kladú ?osi na skaly —
    bola to krásna mladucha.
    Šuhaj ten stojí divom zajatý,
    hlasom strieborným zdá sa oviaty
    ka?dý ?uv zvedného ucha.

    Hron keeps on rolling from stone to stone ,
    it splashed the bank goodbye     ,
    and three alders bent nicely
    over the clear Slovak water     ,
    and the lifted something, the winds have blown     ,
    and the alders are putting something on the rocks      —
    it was a beautiful bride     .
    The young man stands there, astonished     ,
    the silver voice seems to have enchanted
    the young man’s listening ears     .

    192

    A šumia jelše a šumia šaty

    bielu?ké ako ?alia,

    a hrdlom jasným k ?adrám sa zlatý

    vlások diev?iny rozvíja:

    Ide, prichádza a poletuje,

    ?ahká jej nô?ka kvety ?utuje

    a trávku mladú nedlávi;

    v ruke má veniec bieloru?ový,

    ten vábne podá šuhajovi

    a zlietne do bujnej trávy.

    And the alders hiss, and the dress, too
    as white as the lilies     ,
    and through her clear throat, down to her bresats
    a golden hair of the maid spreads     :
    It spreads, coming and flying around     ,
    her light foot fells sorry for the flowers
    and it does not tread on the young grass     ;
    a garland of white roses in her hand     ,
    she hands it to the young man seductively
    and flies down to the lush grass     .
    193

    V prsiach mládenských vrie po?iar citov
    a blýska zrakma jasnýma,
    na ?ele jeho de? dávny svitol,
    pamiatky sladké objíma.
    Blýska o?ima na krásy Víly,
    bo v tých krásach mu city o?ili,
    ktoré u? v mohyle tleli:
    O?ili, ale na kraji hrobu
    vlajú, aby sa v smrti ?a?obu
    hádam naveky zavreli.

    The fire of emotions burns in the young chest
    and flashes with its bright eyes     ,
    on his forehead, an ancient day has dawned     ,
    he is embracing sweet memories     .
    He casts his eyes a the beauties of the Fairy     ,
    as in her beauties, his emotions revived     ,
    that were already rotting in tomb     :
    revived, but at the very edge of the grave
    they are balancing, perhaps to fall down
    forever into the heaviness of death     .

    194

    Zo zabudnutia zahmlených svetov
    drahá sa deva vrátila,
    a z ?alších ?itia jeho predmetov
    šuhaja Víla vzbúrila:
    Ach, ale Víla nádeju nedá
    ?úbosti, ktorej raz sudba bledá
    ukrutne hrdlo zakrúti;
    cíti to junák, deva to sníva,
    a z úst oboch sa ?ia?ne ozýva
    skrahlej lásky spev labutí. —

    From the forgotten realms of foggy worlds
    beloved maid has come back     ,
    and form another matters of his living
    the Fairy has awakened the young man     :
    Oh, but the fairy gives no hope
    to the love which once will have
    her throat dreadfully broken by the pale fate     ;
    the young man feels that     , the maid dreams that ,
    and from the mouths of both, there sadly echoes
    the death toll of the numb love     . —

    195

    Kde?e si bola, nevesta moja?
    Biela tvár tvoja divná mi;
    kde?e ti je z líc ru?a pokoja?
    ?o máš s hronskými vlnami? —
    Aj krásna si mi — ale tie krásy
    zastiera cudzia bytnos? akási —
    prázdna je tvoja mohyla —
    zdá sa, ?e ?ivly zemské ti slú?ia,
    ale zemš?ana prsia sa ú?ia
    pri tebe: kto si? „Ja? Víla!“ —

    Where have you been, my bride ?
    Your pale face seems weird to me     ;
    Where is the peaceful rose from your cheeks     ?
    And what do you have to do with the waves of Hron     ? —
    Yes, you are beautiful to me     — but your beauties
    seem to be shaded by some alien being     —
    your tomb is empty     —
    it seems that the earthly elements do serve you     ,
    but the chest of an earthly man narrows
    near you     : who are you? „Me? The Fairy!“ —
    196

    Blí?ite sa zas, obrazy dávne,
    do mládenských hájov duši!
    ?a?ké ste mi, a predsa zábavné,
    ?ia? váš ?iale moje ruší:
    Nu?, po?te, prsia cele roztvorím,
    aspo? raz ešte citom zahorím,
    ktorý raj mi kedys’ tvoril;
    onemiem, ešte raz prehovorím,
    chrám ten ?úbosti ešte raz stvorím,
    abych naveky ho zboril! —

    You are coming again, ancient images
    back into the groves of my youthful soul     !
    You are so heavy, and yet so funny     ,
    your sorrow disturbs my sorrows     :
    Well, come on, I open my chest wide     ,
    and I shall flame with emotion one last time     ,
    that was a paradise to me once     ;
    I go speechless, then I shall speak once again     ,
    and I shall once again create the temple of love     ,
    so that I can tear it down forever     ! —

    197

    „Zboril, zboril!“ to strakavé Hole
    dva ráz za ním opakujú:
    a od severu dolinou dole
    hlasy v prudkých vetroch dujú;
    po?úva junák tieto ohlasy,
    a dupkom jeho je?ia sa vlasy:
    tak myslíte aj vy, hory? —
    Zbori?? — Neverím sprostej prírode,
    cudzia je ona v ducha slobode: —
    duch môj chrám ten nerozborí! —

    „Tear down, tear down!“ echoing mountains
    repeat after him for two times     :
    and from the North, down the valley
    voices blown in fierce winds     ;
    the young man listens to these echoes     ,
    and he gets goosebumps all over his body     :
    so do you think, too, mountains     ? —
    Tear down     ? — I don‘t believe stupid nature,
    it is strange to the spiritual freedom     : —
    my spirit shall not tear the temple down     ! —

    198

    Ale nebude to chrám ?úbosti,
    oj, tejto niet v mojej moci!
    Spadla u? hviezda mojej milosti,
    dala „zbohom“ mojej noci:
    Ale vystavím kolibu malú
    a v nej ulo?ím osiralú
    dušu vo snov ?ahkých vienky:
    a pod kolibkou tiché sklepenie,
    tam odpo?inie moje tú?enie
    v hrobe spiacej rozpomienky. —

    But it shall not be the temple of love ,
    for I have no power over love     !
    The star of my mercy has fallen already     ,
    giving      „farewell“ to my night:
    But I shall build a small hut
    and inside, I shall lay my orphaned
    soul into the garlands of light dreams     :
    and under the cottage, a silent cellar     ,
    there shall my desire lay to rest
    in the grave of the sleeping memory     . —

    199

    Toto preriekol a drie?na Víla
    po?úva v ?om city svoje;
    a vábnos? devy zas obrátila
    k sebe zrakov mu?ských dvoje:
    Kde?e si bola, Víla-Marína?
    Aká je tvojej vlasti krajina?
    Aké sú tam tvoje ?asy?
    ?o chceš s tým vencom, ktorýs’ mi dala?
    Kde si tie ru?e do?ho nabrala?
    Kde sú tvoje vrané vlasy? —

    So he said, and the beautiful Fairy
    can hear her emotions inside him     ;
    and the beauty of the maid has turned
    the two maly eyes back upon herself again     :
    Where have you been     , Fairy-Marína?
    What is the country that you call homeland     ?
    What are your times back there     ?
    What do you want to do with the garland you gave me     ?
    Where have you taken the roses for it     ?
    Where is your raven-black hair     ? —

    200

    Mládenec milý! ach, rada by ja
    ešte s tebou ?udsky cíti?,
    ale obledlá u? raz ?alia
    farbu ru?í nemô?’ chyti?:
    Líca moje sa nezabronejú
    a ústa moje u? nezaznejú —
    hádam nikdy — citom lásky; —
    m?a osud vyrval z tvojho náru?ia,
    a ?o ma teraz od teba lú?ia,
    sú ?ivotov vyšších ?iastky.

    Beloved young man! Oh, I would love
    to feel human emotions for you once again     ,
    but a lily that once withered
    cannot get the colour of the roses again:
    My cheeks will no more turn red
    and my lips shall sing no more  —
    never ever — with the emotion of love; —
    the fate has torn me from your arms,
    and what is now separating me from you,
    are the fragments of higher lives.
    Read More...

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