I
„Ej, Fatima, gromom izgojrela,
„Ej, Fatima, gromom izgojrela,
Što se primi mekije' kolača
Da hi pečeš, gromom izgojrela!
Što ćeš luga na sač nabačila,
Da te fata iz svog srca tuga!“
Kad Fatima sače podignula,
Sama sobom o tli udarila.
Ja sam došla Fatimu razgovoriti,
Kada Fata u mutvaku sjedi.
Šti bi medom kolače polila?
To hi Fata suzam' natopila!
English:
„O Fatima, may the thunder strike you,
For you tried to make sweet pastry,
To bake it, may the thunder strike you!
What was the use of putting wood in the stove,
That sorrow might seize your heart!“
When Fatima took out the pan,
She threw it to the ground.
I came to talk with Fatima,
And Fatima was sitting in the kitchen.
What need to put honey on the pastry?
Fata has drowned it with her tears!
(Almasa Zvizdić, Gacko, May 20, 1935)
II
Je li rano, je l' svanulo davno,
Mogu l' stići kud sam naumijo?
Pod Zagorje, pod Čengić dvore,
Đe boluje Čengić Smajilaga?
Više glave dva mu svjetla gore,
Niže nogu dvi' ga ljube dvore.
Niže nogu dvi' ga ljube dvore.
Mlađa plače, starija se smije.
„Što se smiješ, moja vjerna ljubo?
Što se smiješ? Umrijeću sada.“
„Umri, umri, da se udam mlada!
Ostaće mi češalj i pomada“.
„Ostaće mi češalj i pomada.“
„Češalj podaj tvojoj drugarici!
Češalj podaj tvojoj drugarici,
A pomadu tvom draganu mladu!
English:
Is it early, did dawn break long ago?
Can I arrive where I want to go?
To Zagorje, to the castle of Čengić,
Where Smajilaga Čengić lies ill?
At his head two candles are burning,
And at his feet his two wives attend him.
The younger is weeping, and the elder is smiling.
„why do you smile, my true love?
Why do you smile? I am dying now.“
„Die, die, that I may marry while I'm young.
My comb and powder will still be mine.“
Stanzas one to five inclusive are the same as above.
„My comb and powder will still be mine.“
„Give the comb to your friend,
Give the comb to your friend,
And the powder to young young lover!“
(Zejnil Sinanović, Bihać, April 1, 1935.)
III
U gori se zelen bajrak vija,
Pod njim leži ranjen bajraktare.
Na njemu se bijeli košulja,
Baš ko gruda u planini snjega.
Nit' ga pere majka ni sestrica,
Ni jubovca skoro dovedena.
Kiša pere, žarko sunce suši.
Njem dolazi siv zelen sokole,
Pa mu nosi u kljunu vodice,
I pod krilom bijele pogače.
„ A Boga ti, siv zelen sokole,
Kakvo sam ti dobro učinijo,
Pa mi nosiš u kljunu vodice,
I pod krilom bijele pogače?
Blago meni o' sad pa do vijeka,
Ka' sam takog steko prijateja,
Da odleti mome pustu dvoru,
Je li moja u životu majka,
Je li mi se juba preudala.
Da j' odveće, još dalje doleće!“
Majka ti je svijet preminula,
Tvoje seke basamake jube
„Ovud nam je Ale odhodijo!“
Ljuba ti se mamom pomamila,
Prodala ti doru iz ahara
Za bjelilo i za bakamilo.
Na ljubu ti svati navalili,
Ljuba tvoja hoće da se vodi.“
Kad se Ale u nevoji nađe,
Ode Ale gorom i planinom.
English:
On the mountain a green banner waves.
Beneath it lies a wounded warrior.
His shirt is gleaming white,
Even as a ball of snow on the mountainside.
Neither his mother nor his sister tend him,
Nor his newly-wed bride.
The rain washes hid; the warm sun dries him.
A light-gray falcon visits him
And brings him water in its beak
And white cakes under its wings.
„By heaven, light-gray falcon,
What kind deed did I do for you,
That you bring me water in your beak
And cakes under your wing?
Blessed am I for all time,
To have gained such a friend!
Let him fly to my deserted castle,
To see whether my mother is still alive,
Whether my true love has married another.
If he is an even better friend, he will fly still farther.“
Your mother has departed from this world,
And your sisters kiss the steps, saying:
„ This is where Ale trod when he went away“,
And your true love hast lost her reason.
She has sold your horse from the stable
For powder and rouge.
The wedding guests have come for your true love.
Your true love wants to be led away.“
When Ale found himself in trouble,
He fled to the mountains.
Bosnian:
Konja kuje Meho momče mlado
Nasred polja pod jelom zelenom.
Gledala ga vila iz oblaka. Gledala ga, pa mu govorila:
„Ne kuj konja, Meho momče mlado,
Ne kuj konja, a ne s' rosi, mlado,
Jerbo ti se Zlato preudalo.“
Kad to čuo Meho momče mlado,
Pusti konja u zelenu travu,
Pa on ide svom bijelu dvoru.
S rafa skida sedefli tamburu,
I oblači gospodsko odijelo,
Pa on ide Zlati pod prozore.
Tanko kuca, jasno popijeva,
I u svaku Zlatu pripijeva:
„Moje Zlato, kome si mi dato?
„Moje Zlato, kome si mi dato?
Moja vilo, uz kog si se knila?
Moje srebro, uz kog si mi leglo?“
Kad to čula u odaji Zlata,
Rukama je u džam udarila,
Vas je prozor na cestu sasula.
English:
Young Meho was shoeing his horse
Under a green pine tree in the field.
A vila watched him from a cloud.
She watched him and then said to him:
„Do not shoe your horse; do not perspire from laor, young man,
For your Zlata has married another.“
When young Meho heard that,
He let his horse go into the green field,
And he went to his white house.
From its peg he took his mother-of-pearl tambura,
And put on his best suit.
Then he went to Zlata's window.
Lightly he strummed and loudly he sang,
And ever he sang of Zlata:
„O Zlata mine, to whom are you given?
My vila, with whom have you...
Silver treasure mine, with whom have you lain?“
When Zlata heard that from her room,
She struck the window with her hands
And hurled it to the street.
(Hajrija Šaković, Gacko, April 22, 1935.)
Bosnian:
Gorom jašu kićeni svatovi.
Gorica him s lista progovara:
„Kud idete, kićeni svatovi,
Kud idete i konje morite?
Kad je bila na umoru mlada,
Svojoj majci vako govorila:
„Mila majko, kad mi svati dojdu,
Dobro moje svate dočekajte!
Sve him konje u podrume svež'te,
A svatove u gornje ahare,
Dragog moga u šikli odaju,
Đe no mu je zlato bolovalo,
I đe no je dušu ispustila!
Svakom svatu podaj limunatu,
Mome dragom grku limunatu,
Ko kad mu je grko i čemerno!
Svate ćeš mi, mati, nadariti,
Svakom svatu po boščaluk podaj,
Mome dragom dvanaes boščaluka!
Nek s' oporavlja dvanes godin' dana,
Nek s' oporavlja, nek mene spominje!
Ako bi ga smrca prevarila,
Kopajte mu kabur krajem moga!
Viž' glave mu ružu posadite,
Meni malu, a njemu golemu!
Ja sam žensko, pa je žalos mala,
On je junak, golema je žalos.
On je junak u majke jedinjak.
Njega majka u želju rodila,
A u njegi boljoj odgojila.
Ja sam mlada deveta u majke.
Istina je tu žalosti nema.
Ipak će me ožaliti majka.
Dosta sam joj ja hajirli bila.
Kako me je porodila majka,
Moj je babo kulu napravijo,
A prozore srmom okovao“.
English:
The wedding guests are riding along the mountainside,
And the leaves on the mountain speak to them:
„Whither are you going, wedding guests?
Whither are you going? Whither urge you your horses?
The young bride has died.
When she was on her deathbed,
She spoke thus to her mother:
„Mother, dear, when my wedding guests come,
Entertain them well.
Tie their horses in the stable,
And lead the guests to the upper chambers,
But take my beloved to the richly dight room,
Where his treasure lay dying,
And where she breathed her last.
Give each guest sweet lemonade,
But give my beloved unsweetened lemonade,
As his lot is bitter and sorrowful.
You will give gifts to the wedding guests,
To each guest a gold-embroidered suit,
But twelve to my beloved.
Let him bedeck himself for twelve years,
Let him bedeck himself and think of me.
And if death should quietly overtake him,
Dig his grave next to mine.
Plant a rosebush above his head,
A small one for me and a large one for him,
For I am a woman, and the sorrow is less;
But he is a hero, and the sorrow is mighty.
His mother bore him with rejoicing,
And brought him up with tenderness.
But I am young and the ninth daughter of my mother.
Truly there is not such sorrow here.
Yet my mother will mourn for me,
For I have brought her much happiness.
When my mother bore me,
My father built a house
And gilded the windows with silver.“
(Almasa Zvizdić. Gacko, April 23, 1935)
