Serbia in Light and Darkness Part 12

The headache is worse than a pain in the hand, a toothache than a headache, crucifixion than toothache, and hopeless slavery than crucifixion.

A gipsy, asked what pain is greatest, said: "To be hungry and to see bread before the householder's dog."

A mother, asked what pain is greatest, said: "To see a snake coming from the grave of one's child."

A man, asked what three things he did not like, said: "To be compelled to cut down the tree planted by his own hands, to be on the watch for a blow, and to go hunting with a deaf man."

Economise in speaking, but not in thinking.

Only an oath to do evil may you break with G.o.d's permission.

If you have fixed to-morrow as a day for revenge, do not sleep but talk with death, and see if it were not better to postpone your vengeance.

If you help a beggar, you wipe out the fault of your ancestors.

When will the world become better? When the a.s.s stops competing with the nightingale.

When will the world become better? When men build two bridges--one to G.o.d and one to nature--and when rich men learn to consider themselves great debtors to G.o.d.

G.o.d is more silent than silence in observing sins, and more audible than a cart in punis.h.i.+ng them.

G.o.d and sinners wish to annihilate one another.

A Turk asked a Serb what there would be at the end. The answer was: "I know not what there will be, but I know what there will not be--there will not be Turkish dominion over Serbia."

The imitator remains in the shadow of him whom he imitates. The imitated lives in the suns.h.i.+ne, but the imitator remains always in shadow.

PART III

FRAGMENTS OF SERBIAN POPULAR POETRY

JAKs.h.i.+CH'S PARt.i.tIONING.

Hark! the moon is to the day-star calling: "Morning star! say, where hast thou been wandering; Tell me where thou hast so long been lingering; Where hast white days three so wasted,--tell me?"

To the moon, anon, the day-star answer'd: "I have wander'd, moon! and I have linger'd, Lingered o'er Belgrad's white towers, and wondered At the marvellous things which I have witnessed: How two brothers have their wealth part.i.tioned, Jaks.h.i.+ch Dmitar and Jaks.h.i.+ch Bogdana.

They had thus arranged the shares allotted, Well their father's substance had divided: Dmitar took Wallachia[5] for his portion, Took Wallachia and entire Moldavia;[6]

Banat also, to the river Danube.

Bogdan took the level plains of Sermia, And the even country of the Sava; Servia, too, as far as Ujitz's fortress.

Dmitar took the lower fortress'd cities, And Neboisha's tower upon the Danube; Bogdan took the upper fortress'd cities, And the church-possessing town, Rujitza.

Then a strife arose about a trifle,-- Such a trifle; but a feud soon follow'd,-- A black courser and a grey-wing'd falcon!

Dmitar claims the steed, as elder brother Claims the steed, and claims the grey-wing'd falcon.

Bogdan will not yield or horse or falcon.

When the morning of the morrow waken'd, Dmitar flung him on the sable courser, Took upon his hand the grey-wing'd falcon, Went to hunt into the mountain forest; And he called his wife, fair Angelia: 'Angelia! thou my faithful lady!

Kill with poison thou my brother Bogdan; But if thou refuse to kill my brother, Tarry thou in my white court no longer."

When the lady heard her lord's commandments, Down she sat all sorrowful and gloomy; To herself she thought, and said in silence, --'And shall I attempt it?--I, poor cuckoo!

Shall I kill my brother--kill with poison!-- 'Twere a monstrous crime before high heaven, 'Twere a sin and shame before my people.

Great and small would point their fingers at me, Saying,--'That is the unhappy woman, That is she who kill'd her husband's brother!'

But if I refuse to poison Bogdan, Never will my husband come to bless me!'

Thus she thought, until a thought relieved her; She descended to the castle's cavern, Took the consecrated cup of blessing.

'Twas a cup of beaten gold her father Had bestow'd upon his daughter's nuptials; Full of golden wine she fill'd the vessel, And she bore it to her brother Bogdan.

Low to earth she bow'd herself before him, And she kiss'd his hands and garments meekly.

'Lo! I bring to thee this cup, my brother!

This gold cup, with golden wine o'erflowing.

Give me for my cup a horse and falcon.'

Bogdan heard the lady speak complacent, And most cheerfully gave steed and falcon.

Meanwhile through the day was Dmitar wandering In the mountain-forest; nought he found there; But chance brought him at the fall of evening To a green lake far within the forest, Where a golden-pinion'd duck was swimming.

Dmitar loosen'd then his grey-wing'd falcon, Bade him seize the golden-pinion'd swimmer.

Faster than the hunter's eye could follow, Lo! the duck had seized the grey-wing'd falcon, And against his sides had crush'd his pinion.

Soon as Dmitar Jaks.h.i.+ch saw, he stripp'd him, Stripp'd him swiftly of his hunting garments;-- Speedily into the lake he plung'd him, And he bore his falcon from its waters.

Then with pitying voice he ask'd his falcon: 'Hast thou courage yet, my faithful falcon!

Now thy wings are from thy body riven?'

Whispering, said the falcon to his master: 'I without my pinions nought resemble, But a brother riven from a brother.'

Then the thought pierced through the breast of Dmitar, That his wife was charged to kill his brother.

Swift he threw him on his mighty courser-- Swift he hurried to Bijograd's[7] fortress, Praying that his brother had not perish'd.

He had hardly reached the bridge of Chekmel,[8]

When he spurr'd his raven steed so fiercely That the impetuous courser's feet sank under, And were crushed and broken on the pavement.

In his deep perplexity and trouble, Dmitar took the saddle off his courser, Flung it on the courser's nether haunches, And he fled alone to Belgrad's fortress.

First he sought, impatient, for his lady-- 'Angelia! thou my bride all faithful!

Tell me, tell me, hast thou kill'd my brother?'

Sweet indeed was Angelia's answer: 'No! indeed I have not killed thy brother; To thy brother have I reconciled thee.'"

JELITZA AND HER BROTHERS.

Nine fair sons possessed a happy mother; And the tenth, the loveliest and the latest, Was Jelitza,--a beloved daughter.

They had grown together up to manhood, Till the sons were ripe for bridal altars, And the maid was ready for betrothing.

Many a lover asked the maid in marriage; First a Ban;[9] a chieftain was the other; And the third, a neighbour from her village.

So her mother for the neighbour pleaded; For the far-off dwelling ban her brothers.

Thus they urged it to their lovely sister: "Go, we pray thee, our beloved sister, With the ban across the distant waters: Go! thy brothers oft will hasten to thee; Every month of every year will seek thee; Every week of every month will seek thee."

So the maiden listened to her brothers, With the ban she crossed the distant waters: But, behold! O melancholy marvel!

G.o.d sent down the plague, and all the brothers.

All the nine, were swept away, and lonely Stood their miserable sonless mother.

Three long years had pa.s.s'd away unheeded; Often had Jelitza sighed in silence: "Heaven of mercy! 'tis indeed a marvel!

Have I sinn'd against them?--that my brothers, Spite of all their vows, come never near me."

Then did her stepsisters scorn and jeer her: "Cast away! thy brothers must despise thee!

Never have they come to greet their sister."