void

void

вторник, 2 юни 2015 г.



 Hadji Dimitur
 by Hristo Botev 1873
О he lives! He lives! There on the Balkan
bathed in blood, lies and moans
a hero with a wound deep in his chest
a hero in youth and manly strength

One on side lies thrown his gun
on the other his sword lies broken in two pieces
 eyes  blurred,  head swings
mouth swears all universe!

A hero lies, and on the sky
Stopped the sun and scorches with anger
a cropper woman sings somewhere in the fields
and the blood violently streams.


Its harvest-time...Sing, slave women
sing this woeful songs! Shine forth and you Sun,
in this land of slavery! And this hero will die
too...But fall silent ,Heart!

The one fallen in battle for liberty
cannot die,  he is morn by
land and sky ,nature, beast
and singers songs for him will sing...

By the day his shadow guarded by a hen -eagle
a wolf gently licks his wound
above him a falcon, a heroic bird
 for a brother ,for a hero cares!

Night falls, moon rises
stars scatter Heaven's arch
forest whispers, wind blows
The Balkan sings a hero's song!

And nymphs all dressed in white
strange, beautiful –singing,
 silently wading in the green grass
 by  the hero they come and sit

One with herbs binds his wounds
other sprinkles him with frosty water
the  third softly kisses his lips
and he stares at her-she's smiling and kind

Tell me, my sister-Where is the Karadja?
And where are my loyal fellows
Tell me, and then take my soul
I want, my sister ,here in death to repose

They clap their hands, clasp one another
And flit into the heavens above
They fly and sing until first light finds them
Searching for the soul of The Karadja!

But day breaks! And in the Balkan
The hero still lies, his blood streams
The wolf his bitter wound licks and
the sun  still scorches and scorches  in flames!

my translation