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)