Plava grobnica

Стојте, галије царске! Спутајте крме моћне!

Газите тихим ходом!

Опело гордо држим у доба језе ноћне

Над овом светом водом.

Ту на дну, где шкољке сан уморан хвата

И на мртве алге тресетница пада,

Лежи гробље храбрих, лежи брат до брата,

Прометеји наде, апостоли јада.

Зар не осећате како море мили,

Да не руши вечни покој палих чета?

Из дубоког јаза мирни дремеж чили,

А уморним летом зрак месеца шета.

То је храм тајанства и гробница тужна

За огромног мрца, к'о наш ум бескрајна.

Тиха као поноћ врх острвља јужна,

Мрачна као савест, хладна и очајна.

Зар не осећате из модрих дубина

Да побожност расте врх вода просута

И ваздухом игра чудна пантомима?

То велика душа покојника лута

Стојте, галије царске! На гробу браће моје

Завите црним трубе.

Стражари у свечаном опело нек отпоје

Ту, где се вали љубе!

Јер проћи ће многа столећа, к'о пена

Што пролази морем и умре без знака,

И доћи ће нова и велика смена,

Да дом сјаја ствара на гомили рака.

Али ово гробље, где је погребена

огромна и страшна тајна епопеје,

Колевка ће бити бајке за времена,

Где ће дух да тражи своје корифеје.

Сахрањени ту су некадашњи венци

И пролазна радост целог једног рода,

Зато гроб тај лежи у таласа сенци

Измеђ недра земље и небесног свода.

Стојте, галије царске! Буктиње нек утрну,

Веслање умре хујно,

А кад опело свршим, клизите у ноћ црну

побожно и нечујно.

Јер хоћу да влада бескрајна тишина

И да мртви чују хук борбене лаве,

Како врућим кључем крв пенуша њина

У деци што кликћу под окриљем славе.

Јер, тамо далеко, поприште се зари

Овом истом крвљу што овде почива:

Овде изнад оца покој господари,

Тамо изнад сина повесница бива.

Зато хоћу мира, да опело служим

без речи, без суза и уздаха меких,

Да мирис тамјана и дах праха здружим

Уз тутњаву муклу добоша далеких.

Стојте, галије царске! У име свесне поште

Клизите тихим ходом.

Опело држим, какво не виде небо јоште

Над овом светом водом!

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 Michael M. Petrovich)

The Blue Sea Tomb

Hold on, Imperial galleons! Hamper your oars!
Tread with a silent trotter!
A proud mass, I hold, in the creep of night,
Above this Holy water.

Here on the seabed, among the sleepy shells,
Where algae cover'd by peat moss burrow,
Lays a graveyard of heroes, lays brother beside brother,
The Prometteuses of hope, the Apostles of sorrow.

Don’t you notice how the sea is slow-moving,
Not to disturb the eternal rest of the fallen?
From the Deep trench peace is softly dreaming,
While tired Moon rays fall in.

This temple of mystery and the graveyard of sorrow
For the giant corpse as endless as our mind
As calm as the midnight above the south islands is
Yet dark as consciousness, cold and in despair.

Can’t you feel from these livid depths
That piety rules this sea
And the air is rife with pantomime?
It’s the soul of the fallen that roams with ease.

Hold on Imperial galleons! On the grave of my fallen brothers
Veil your trumpets in mourning black!
And let men-at-arms sing the mass
Here where the waves smack.

For many centuries will pass
Unnotic'd will remain the sea waves
A new generation will come to build
A shiny home over these very graves.

But this graveyard in which lies
The tragic secret of an epic deed
Will cradle the immortality of glory
Where the spirit will search for its lead.

Resting here are the laurels of the past
And the transient joys of a whole nation
In this sombre grave under the blue waves
Between the Earth and the sky dome.

Hold on Imperial galleons! Put out your torches
Cease the splashing of your oars
When my requiem is done, glide into the dark night
In piety and silence.

For I want an endless silence to rule
For the dead to hear the battles’ furore
How their boiling blood sparks in their sons
Under the wings of glory.

For there far away, the battlefields are flood'd
With the same blood that is at rest here to fade
Here, over the fathers the peace reigns,
While there, over the sons, the history is made.

That’s why I need peace for this requiem
Without words, without tears or quiet sighs
To unite the clouds of incense and gunpowder
With the mut'd rumbling of far-away drums.

Hold on Imperial galleons! In the name of respect!
Tread with a silent trotter!
A proud mass, I hold, like heaven hasn’t seen yet
Above this Holy water.

(translated by Boost Pty Ltd)