NOTES

[Footnote 1: This song as also those signed "S. J. B." has been transversified and published by (Sir) John Bowring, "Servian Popular Poetry," London, 1827.]

[Footnote 2: The Serbian peasants, especially women, firmly believe that saints, parents, rulers, bishops and clergymen have the privilege of cursing and that the person to whom the curse is addressed is bound to undergo the consequences p.r.o.nounced by the curser. There are several instances in the Serbian heroic ballads by which it is proven that the national Serbian bards, and indeed all the peasants who partic.i.p.ated in the composition of their epic poetry, believe that curses p.r.o.nounced by privileged persons always come true. Thus in the ballad _Uros and Mrnjavcevici_ King Vukasin of Macedonia, angry with his son Marko Kralyevich because the latter, when chosen for arbiter, said that the imperial crown belonged to Carevic Uros and not to him (Vukasin), exclaimed:

"O son Marko, may G.o.d smother thee!

Mayest thou have no tomb, nor progeny May thy soul not leave thy body Before thou hast served the Turkish emperor!"

While Marko's kingly father cursed him, Carevic Uros blesses him thus:

"O my k.u.m Marko, G.o.d second thee!

Thy face shine at divan Thy sabre smother in duels!

May no one excel thee in heroism Thy name be reverently remembered.

As long as Sun and Moon shine!"

And the bard finishes his poem with, "Whatever they said, it came true."

Another oral tradition tells us how a n.o.bleman _Velimir Bogati_ (Velimir the Rich) who once refused hospitality to Knez Lazar, the emperor of Serbia (1389), was cursed by the n.o.ble prince and how Velimir's first son indeed drowned himself in the river Lepenica, his second son fell from his horse and died in consequence of the accident and how his third, and now only son, was imprisoned by his father in one of the remotest towers of his castle in order to avoid any danger of experiencing the prince's curse. One day, however, Velimir Bogati brought to his imprisoned son some grapes from his own vineyard, in order that the poor young fellow should at least know what time of the year it was, and lo! while the boy was eating the grapes a small viper jumped out of the bunch and mortally bit him. The news of the sudden death of the young n.o.bleman spread rapidly amongst the neighboring villages and fortified the peasants in their belief that one cannot escape the curse.

Par extension a _kletva_ (curse) can be effective even if p.r.o.nounced, as in the above song, by other persons than those privileged.

Another saga narrates how a peasant greedily coveted and wished to appropriate a corn field that belonged to his neighbour and, in order to attain his evil end, he buried in the middle of that field his only son whom he had previously taught what to say when interrogated. The judge and the plaintiffs came with the defender to the spot and the mischievous peasant in order to mystify those present, exclaimed: "O black earth, speak of thy own free will, to whom dost thou rightly belong?"

"I belong to thee," the voice from below was heard.

The lawful owner, hearing this, started aback. And the judge's verdict appointed the field to belong to the covetous and wrong claimant. And the parties dispersed in wonder.

Then the father began to dig the ground in order to disinter his son.

But--there was not the shadow of one! He called loudly and the child answered the call but the voice from beneath the earth was ever fainter and fainter. Finally the child turned to a mole.

Thus became, according to Serbian tradition, the first mole. (Edit.)]

[Footnote 3: Sir John Bowring, although a remarkable transversifier and at times a true interpreter of popular songs of the Slavs, has taken too much of that _licentia poetica_ in his rendering of this, one of the most beautiful lyrics ever composed by Serbian peasant women. The reader may judge for himself, when comparing Sir John Bowring's liberal transversification with the following _verbatim_ translation (which he, himself, felt absolutely indispensable to reproduce) what a great injustice is inflicted upon the popular songs of any people by even the most conscientious transversifier and how infinitely less untrue to the original a rendering can be. (Edit.)

Of this little poem, which Goethe calls "wonderful," the following is an almost literal translation:

Full of wine, white branches of the vine-trees To white Buda's fortress white had clung them: No! it was no vine-tree, white and pregnant!

No! it was a pair of faithful lovers, From their early youth betrothed together.

Now they are compell'd to part untimely.

One address'd the other at their parting, "Go! my soul! burst out and leave my bosom!

Thou wilt find a hedge-surrounded garden, And a red-rose branch within the garden; Pluck a rose from off the branch, and place it, Place it on thy heart, within thy bosom; Then behold!--ev'n as that rose is fading, Fades my heart within thy heart thou loved one!"

And thus answer'd then the other lover: "Thou, my soul! turn back a few short paces.

There thou wilt discern a verdant forest; In it is a fount of crystal water; In the fount there is a block of marble; On the marble block a golden goblet; In the goblet thou wilt find a snow-ball.

Love! take out that snow-ball from the goblet, Lay it on thy heart within thy bosom; See it melt--and as it melts, my lov'd one!

So my heart within thy heart is melting."

(S. J. B.)