Serbian poetry,prose and songs lyrics ...

[crnitrn]

"Himna Kosovskih junaka", or in English "The Hymn of the Kosovo Heroes", is a medieval Serbian folk song depicting the Battle of Kosovo that occurred in 1389. The lyrics of this song changed over time, so there are several versions of it.

The Hymn of the Kosovo Heroes

Christ our Lord crucified and holy,
Serbian land is flying through the skies.
It is flying in the heavenly heights,
Its wings are Morava and Drina 1

Farewell my first, unborn son,
farewell roses, farewell rosemary.
Farewell summers, autumns and winters,
We are leaving never to return. 3

On three holy and three unified,
we are going to Kosovo field.
we are going to our destined place
farewell my mother, farewell my sister and farewell my bride.


Farewell my first unborn son,
farewell roses, farewell rosemary.
Farewell summers, autumns and winters,
we are leaving never to return. 3

When my darling heard that I'm going,
she put a flower of marigold in my coat. 2
Farewell my first unborn son,
farewell roses, farewell rosemary.
Farewell summers, autumns and winters,
we are leaving never to return. 3


1 Older version of the song feature river Ibar instead.
2 Older version of the song feature helmet instead.
3 Some versions of the song have changed that entire line with: "We are leaving to defeat them".

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Himna_kosovskih_junaka

[crnitrn]

Milan Rakic- Na Gazimestanu

 Milan Rakic- At Gazi-Mestan

   


The Mighty  Armadillos , without  fault and fear,
Cold as your armor and  grim view,
You Assaulted then  in a cloud of dust
And there was a slam and a bloody race.




Shaky empire toppled up with you
When the storm passes over Kosovo field
Kosovo became a vast pit
Terrible ossuary and glorious from defeat.




Kosovo heroes, merit is yours,
Because you were the last. In the bloody horror,
When rotten empire take arms.
Every corpse is aware victim, real hero.


Today they  say to us , children of this century
That we are unworthy of our history,
That we are flooded by Western river,
And  our souls are afraid of the dangers.



Good my country , that's a lie! Who loves you
Nowadays, it loves you.
Because before us, nor fields  nor bedrock
Could not give a  conscious love to  another.




And today, when it comes to the last battle,
Irradiant from glow of old aureole,
I will give my life, to you my fatherland
Knowing what I give, and why I give!



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milan_Raki%C4%87

[crnitrn]

Dobrica Erić


Defiant poem

Me,
servant of  G-d,
Serbian
with a graying beard
I assert freely
through the chain and wire
before witnesses:
Force, Suffer and Injustice
I'm guilty, and I confess

I'm guilty, because I am someone
rather than nobody and  noone .
I'm guilty, because  in this Serb – hating time
I do pray in  Orthodox church,
though, rarely,
and I am crossing oneself  like this
with three fingers!

I am guilty of existing
instead of being unreal.
I have a long standing guilt
of standing upright
and looking up to the sky
instead of down at the grass!
I am guilty of daring
to challenging injustice!
I am guilty again of celebrating
my family patron saint!

I am to blame for reading and writing
in Cyrillic.
I am guilty of singing,
laughing and cursing
(and sometimes barking).
I'm guilty, I admit :
I do not know what I know and I know what  I do not know.


I am guilty, and to finish
With greatest guilt
(before I die laughing).
I`m guilty, stubborn as I am,
of being Orthodox and
devoted to St. Sava
and of not believing in
the holy crime and the absolution!

My sins and my guilt is,
therefore,  
that I exist  
and when I already exist, and brazen – faced I stand,
Why , at least , I do not admit that I do not exist!



If I confess that
to save my life,
I will lose the sacred cross and the patron saint.
If I do not confess that
does not bode well
the whole world will be swoop on my land

Mob of former men,
Thieves and punks.
Herd of robots and other monsters
will swoop on my orchards and fields,
and my little white house by the road
were like a most beautiful  brides
blossom cherry, apple and plum trees.

So here
I confess,
 for the sake of salvation of my kin,
I do not exist,
take me off  list!
From now on I am only
light, air and water.
The three elements that you can exploit.
What you see speaking and walking before you
is what you've turned me into.

My ugly image
with monstrous features
that you multiply morning and evening.
It`s the image of your conscience and subconsciousness
That`s not me, on the outside
That`s you - on the inside.



My foe, with thousand hands,
with thousand servants of fabrication,
you plucked my sun like an apple,
and my pure joy like a red poppy from a rye field.
My descendants will be rage and sorrow
but yours already are drinking the bitter mead
for the bloody money
from selling off the land of my forefathers.

Destiny will pull a straitjacket over you
so that the daybreak could start,
or the planet will split from shame
and bury all of us in the same abyss.

We are very important, my dear beloved land,
we and our sisters
Truth and Justice
for such mighty forces have rallied against us
and Wrong and Injustice are fliping at us.

Mob of former men.
Thieves and punks.
Herd of robots and other monsters
will swoop on my orchards and fields,
and my little white house by the road
were like a most beautiful  brides
blossom cherry, apple and plum trees.

What are they doing here, mujahideens
crusaders, farmers
Those who lacerating our sons and daughters
Most be that foreign hordes have heard
that we have golden hearts
and they are ripping them out
to replace their own
hoping to become human.



Gentlemen prosecutors,
judges and executioners,
you've written your commandments
on the pupils,
finest glass
as hard I live, the easier I will die!
You have entered in  dark night,
But in vain you will lynch
most hospitable people on the planet!
(which is why you will burn in hell),
 the human heart,
is  miracle of miracles,
will not be implant in your chest.


We are not afraid of death
but slave life and long illness.
Death is common among us Serbs
such as spring, summer, autumn, winter.
And it's not terrible.
especially during the day,
of droughts, floods, earthquakes, frost
when a man is happy on his estate
consecrated soul and bright cheeks.

Malicious
full-fed and frenzied men ,
you forbid me all in my own house
but noone can forbid me to
singing and laughing as I am dying!
For you no longer laugh or sing
neither on weddings
nor when a child is born!

Spare me the rope and the spear
and crucify me on a mountain top
as your forefathers did to my forefather
Jesus Christ of Nazareth.

I will look on
and you close your eyes
or they might shatter
in the brightness of my face,
but hurry,
the sooner you crucify me
the sooner I will,
resurrect!"
This is a song  for serbian enemies(Vatican, Islamic fundamentalist, NATO...). I can't describe to you how these three poem sounds powerfully on serbian language. First one is from Wikipedia two others is mine translation!

[crnitrn]

http://www.scribd.com/doc/25150672/Serbski-Pesme-or-National-Songs-of-Serbia-1861-Owen-Meredith

[crnitrn]

Marš na Drinu / March on the Drina

This is incomplete popular version of the song.

Serbian

У бој, крените јунаци сви,
Крен'те и не жал'те живот свој,
Цер нек види строј, Цер нек чује моја река Дрина,
Славу храброст и јуначку руку оца сина.

Пој, пој, Дрино водо хладна ти,
Памти, причај кад су падали,
Памти храбри строј који је пун огња, силе, снаге,
Протерао туђина са реке наше драге.

Пој, пој, Дрино, причај роду ти,
Како смо се храбро борили,
Певао је строј, војево'о се бој,
Крај хладне воде,
Крв је текла,
Крв се лила Дрином због слободе.

English

To battle, go forth you heroes,
Go on and don't regret your lives
Let the Cer see the front, let the Cer hear the guns
and the river Drina's glory, courage!
And the heroic hand of the father and sons!

Sing, sing, cold water of Drina,
Remember, and tell of the ones whom fell,
Remember the brave front, full of fire and mighty force
Whom expelled the invaders from our dear river!

Sing, sing, Drina, tell the generations,
How we bravely fought,
The front sang, the battle was fought
Near cold water
Blood was flowing,
Blood was streaming by the Drina for freedom!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mar%C5%A1_na_Drinu

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Cer



- instrumental

complete :

- complete original composition

Tiho, spuštala se letnja noć
Na Cer, na tu gordu planinu.
Čak i divlja zver gubila je smer
Zbog čudnog straha -
Da će smetat' četama što kreću se bez daha.
 
Drini, Savi, svuda gde je plač,
Tamo hita britak, srpski mač,
Samo laki bat
Niko nikog zvat' te noći neće
Dok se vojska proplancima i brdima kreće.
 
Sred tog mraka
Preko obronaka
Svakog srce mori
Svakom vatra u grudima gori
Da se odmah bori.
 
U toj zemlji gunja, opanka
Gde su zore večno crvene
Nikad boj ne spi
A kad žito zri
Tad bez prestanka
Svuda se čuje pesma tanka, pesma od uranka.
 
Jedan rat tek što je prošao
Drugi je sa letom došao
Tuđin je za tren
Kao neka sen iz mrklog mraka
Prekinuo letinu i pesmu devojaka.
 
Nije teško
Za seljaka, đaka
Za pravog junaka
Iz veselja, kola devojaka
Latit' se pušaka.
 
Borac svaki nema pušku, ne
Ali nosi srce planine.
Borče, drži steg
Tuđin će u beg se brzo dati
Ponovo će sunce Šumadiju obasjati.
 
Zov junaka s bojne Drine te
Sve se ori, sve do daljine.
Svuda, svaki puk
Puške, trube zvuk i juriš pravi
Pevala se pesma rata, slobodi i slavi.
 
Pucaj, momče
Majka ti ne plaka
Jer je kuća svaka
Dala Ceru po jednog junaka
Oca, sina, brata.
 
Na Cer, pođite sa snagom svom
Znajte, vi branite rod i dom
Svud' je poklič, zov
Taj viteški kov starca, momaka
To je oganj što ga nose od svojih predaka
 
U boj, krenite junaci svi
Kren'te i ne žal'te život svoj
Cer da čuje tvoj, Cer nek vidi boj
Reka Drina - slavu, hrabrost
I junačku ruku srpskog sina.
 
Napred borče
Brani svoju zemlju
Ne daj, nikad ne daj
Za nju život uvek rado predaj
Ali je nikom ne daj!
 
Poj, poj, Drino, vodo hladna ti
Pamti priče kad su padali
Pamti hrabri stroj
Koji je pun ognja, silne snage
Proterao tuđina sa reke naše drage.
 
Poj, poj Drino, pričaj rodu mi
Kako smo se hrabro borili
Pevao je stroj, vojevo se boj kraj hladne vode
Krv je tekla
Krv se lila Drinom zbog slobode.

How good  is this song telling that this song is liked by many nation, including many of  Croats !
There is a story that in the wwii Japanese  used this composition,to improve  moral of soldiers!

[crnitrn]

Tamo daleko

Original Lyrics

Зар је морала доћ, та тужна
несрећна ноћ,кадa си драгане мој,
отишaо у крвави бој.
Ајдемо драга, нeсретно
живимо ми, јер младост пролази
журно, и живот таj несретни.
јер младост пролази журно, и живот
таj несретни.
Тамо далеко, далеко крај мора,тамо
је село моје, тамо је љубав моја,
тамо је село моје, тамо је љубав моја.
(Spanish)
Allá a lo lejos, a la orilla del mar,
Allá está mi pueblo, allá está mi amada,
Allá está mi pueblo, allá está mi amada,.

Version 2

Тамо далеко, далеко од мора,
Тамо је село моје, тамо је љубав моја.
Тамо је село моје, тамо је љубав моја.
О зар је морала доћ', та тужна несрећна ноћ,
Када си драгане мој, отиш'о у крвави бој.
Тамо далеко, где цвета лимун жут,
Тамо је српској војсци једини био пут.
Тамо је српској војсци једини био пут.
Тамо далеко, далеко од мора,
Тамо је село моје, тамо је Србија!
Тамо је село моје, тамо је Србија!
Без отаџбине, на Крфу живех ја,
и опет весело кличем, живела Србија!
и опет весело кличем, живела Србија!

in English

There, far away, far away from the sea,
There is my village, there is my love.
There is my village, there is my love.
Oh should it have come, that sad, unhappy night,
When you, my dear, went to bloody fight.
There, far away, where the yellow lemons flower,
There was the Serbian Army's only path.
There was the Serbian Army's only path.
There far away, far away from the sea,
There is my village, there is Serbia!
There is my village, there is Serbia!
Without my homeland, on Corfu I live,
And still I happily cheer, Long Live Serbia!
And still I happily cheer, Long Live Serbia!

Version 3

Oh, why should it come, that sad and unhappy night,
When you, my love, went to bloody fight.
There, far away, far away from the sea,
There is my village, there is my love.
With my fatherland far, far away I lived,
But I shout loudly again, long live my homeland!
Oh, why should it come, that sad and unhappy night,
When you my love, went to a bloody fight.
There, far away, where flowers never end,
There are my dearest ones, there is heaven.
There, near the Sava, the Sava and the Danube,
There is a my village, there is my place of birth!

Version 4

There, far away, far from the sea,
There is my village, there is Serbia.
There is my village, there is Serbia.
There, far away, where the yellow lemon blooms,
There was the Serbian Army's only path.
There was the Serbian Army's only path.
There, far away, where the white lily blooms,
There, together, father and son gave their lives.
There, together, father and son gave their lives.
There, where the silent Morava travels,
There my icon remained, and my family saint.
There my icon remained, and my family saint.
There, where the Timok hails Veljko's city,
There they burned down my church, where I married when I was young.
There they burned down my church, where I married when I was young.
With my homeland far away, I lived on Corfu,
but I proudly cheered: Long Live Serbia!
but I proudly cheered: Long Live Serbia!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tamo_daleko

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Serbian_Campaign_(World_War_I)

[crnitrn]

Milutin Bojić

Plava Grobnica / Blue tomb

Hail to you, imperial galleys! Restrain your mighty rudders!

Stroke your oars silently!
I'm proudly officiating a sublime Requiem in the chill 
of the night 

Upon these sacred waters.
Here at the bottom, where seashells tire in sleep

And upon the dead algae peat falls,
Stretch the graves of the brave, couched brother
beside brother,
 Prometheuses of Hope, Apostles of Pain.
Don't you feel the wafting sea,

That it may not trouble their holy repose?

From the deep abyss peaceful slumber ebbs,

And in tiring flight the moonlight slowly passes.
This is a mysterious temple and a sad graveyard
With decaying carcasses, unfathomably real.
Silent like the night on the tip of the Ionian Sea 

Dark as a conscience, cold and despairing.
Don't you feel from your most depressing moods

 That piety grows over this benediction
And the air fills with curious gentleness?

That great soul of the fallen roams
Hail to you, imperial galleys! Upon this tomb 
my dear kindred ones 

Veil the trumpets in mourning black.

Let your sentry, upright, chant the holy dirge 

Here, where waves come to an embrace!
For the centuries will pass as the white foam 

vanishes upon the sea without a trace,

And a new and great age will come in its place,

 To create a splendid home upon this grave.
But these waters, in which was shrouded
the terrible mystery of the Epic,
these waters will be a cradle in Time of legends revealed,

Where the soul will seek out its Destiny.
Buried are here once ancient garlands

And the passing joy of more than one generation,

That's why this cemetery lies in the shadow of waves
Between the bosom of the sea and the vault celestial.
Hail to you, imperial galleys! Extinguish the torches,

Let the oars come to a blustering rest,
And when the Requiem prayers are said, steal away 
into the dark night

inaudibly and with reverential awe.
I wish for the eternal silence to rule

and for the glorious dead to hear the noise of Battles,

 And rejoice in our cries of victory, as we cast ourselves beneath 

the wings of Glory upon the fields vermillion with blood.
For, there far away, battles sway 

With the same blood that emanates from this resting-place:

Here above the eye of the resting lords,
There before the son's history is made.
That's why I seek peace, to officiate a Requiem

without words, without tears and quiet sighs,
Mingle with the odor of powder, the perfume of incense

 As we hear resound the far noise of the cannon.
Hail to you, imperial galleys! In the name 
of a conscientious fast
Glide lightly upon these sacred waters.

A Requiem I'm officiating, one that heavens
have yet to see upon these sacred waters!
(Translated by Mihajlo M. Petrović)

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plava_Grobnica

[crnitrn]

Sorrow, Zare, let's Sorrow

Sorrow[1], Zare, let's sorrow, how shall we separate,
you from me, me from you, I shall go far away.
I shall go far away, to far away white[2] Vranje,
I shall sign up for the komita (3), for the komita, a young komita.

Then shall I take a kingly saber and all those kingly weaponry,
then shall I go away to Pčinja, away to Pčinja in Preševo kaza,
then shall I cross Vardar water, Vardar water so large,
I shall fight with those Turks, with those Turk Arnauts.

Sorrow[1], cry, let's sorrow, when the sun will warm,
when the sun will warm you think it's from G-d,
you shall know that it is mine, it is mine white[2] face,
you shall know that it is mine, it is mine white[2] face.

When the wind blows you think it's from G-d,
then you say it's mine, it's mine kind soul.
When the dew shows you think it's from G-d,
then you say these are mine, these are mine tiny tears.

References

↑ 1.0 1.1 Verb
↑ 2.0 2.1 2.2 White also means "beautiful".

http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Sorrow,_Zare,_let%27s_Sorrow

(3) Komite are special guerrilla forses of serbian army !They existed before the First Balkan War as a way of fighting against the Turks in the still occupied territories of Serbia (Kosovo, Macedonia...)! They had to change its name to ''Chetniks'' because of the Bulgarian predatory  unit that also broke into the present-day Macedonia and did a great atrocities on the Turks and the local population, which are also called themselves Komita! Probably deliberately used the same name in order for these crimes were blamed Serbs! This would reduce the impact of Serbia in Macedonia and  is more likely to Bulgarians occupythis land  after the liberation from the Turks, what ater in the Balkan wars (1912-1913), and the First World War proved to be true! Komite (Chetniks) after the Balkan Wars, entering into the composition of the regular army as Serbian special forces and after the First World War do not exist! Consequently, in the Second World War '' Yugoslav Army in the Fatherland'' or '' Ravna Gora movement" was called Chetniks''

[serbian army]

Great topic.

[crnitrn]

Great topic.

thnx

[crnitrn]

Dry land, is so dry
Thirsty like a dog, and the wind blows
To mine colorful thoughts,let carry me
To feel the rain, bare feet

Thunder a beat, my heart is not there
All the wants and wishes is river to cheer him
Up on the mountain, the hands towards the valley
I pray to silence
I waiting for you

St. Elijah Day ...

St. Prophet Elijah Day is Serbian 'Slava' (is the Serbian Orthodox tradition which is celebrated individually, in which every family has its own Patron Saint.) celebrated on 2. August. In Serbian tradition there is a believe that If there is no rain around St. Elijah Day , that  means that there will be drought! This year that belief become the true there is no rain 45 days and question is whether it will be  rain soon!

[crnitrn]

http://www.vesti011.com/2011/12/antologija-srpskih-epskih-pesama-na-engleskom/

http://www.tanesi.co.rs/details_serbianepic.html