Prolećna Pesma
Prolećna Pesma Osecam veceras dok posmatram laste
i pupoljke rane
kao srce moje polagano raste
k’o vidik u lepe, nasmejane dane;
kako s mladim biljem postaje sve vece
i lako k’o krilo,
i kako mu celo jedno nebo srece
i pakao bola ne bi dosta bilo;
kako cezne za svim sto bi zivot mog’o
lepog da mu dade,
i da mu nicega ne bi bilo mnogo;
tako su velike ceznje mu i nade.
Osecam, da dosad sve je bilo sala
moga srca vrela;
da jos nikom nisam ljubav svoju dala
koliko bih mogla i koliko htela.
Da ima u meni cela nezna plima
reci nereceni’,
da bih srce mogla poklanajti svima
i da opet mnogo ostane ga meni.
Spring Poem
While watching all these early buds and swallows,
I can feel tonight
that my heart’s slowly growing over sorrows
as someone’s horizon on smiley days might;
That it’s getting bigger like all plants around
and as light as feather,
and that all happiness that’s above the ground
and a Hell of pain wouldn’t really matter:
It’s longing for all things that a life as such
could give nice to thy,
and completely nothing wouldn’t be too much--
it’s eager desire and hopes are so high.
Everything that’s happened has been just a play
of my heart on fire;
my true love has never been given away
as much as I could and as I desire;
There are, in my deeps, gentle tides of words
never let outside;
I could give my heart to everyone on worlds,
yet, it would remain a lot of it inside.
(Translation: Dragana Konstantinovic)