BURSKI GOLC Z TEGO
SERBSKEG LANDU
THE PEASANT LAD FROM THE
SORBIAN COUNTRYSIDE
Anon. (T.K.) trans. Robert Elsie (from Sorbian)
Jak ja we brožnje źinsa ležach
slyšach te gercy a tam bĕžach,
jak rowno burske worali,
a tež tu rolu wobsali.

Och źiwy, źiwy, co ja wiźim!
Ta nowe śule, ta za tyźeń
juž swĕśone we Frankfort ma,
co wosebnjc mĕ spodoba.

Laj, chytra jes ta sama weža
tam tegodla tež kuždy bĕžy
a woglĕda se. Ja cu hyś
tež tam a fromny śulańć byś.

Lĕc njemam nana, pana, mutra;
ni chlĕba, twaroźka a butra;
mam gnadneg knĕza, ten co daš,
co jemu buźe spodobaś.

Hyś za tu śulu ja mĕ bojim,
a nabok teke, jak k tym swojim
te gniłe cynje: wosebnje
cu wuknuś, co jes potrjebne.

Wuknujśe ze mnu tež, wy chłopy,
až wordowali wakre popy:
Ja wĕm, až burski, což njespał,
jeden redlich kjarl jes wordował.
As I lay in the barn today
I was awakened by the chiming of bells,
The peasants were already out ploughing
And sowing the seed in the fields.

Oh, wonder of wonders, what do I see?
A new school in Frankfurt
Already opened a week ago,
Which greatly pleases me.

Look, everyone knows about it
And is rushing off to have a look.
I am also making my way,
I'll become a pious student, too.

Although I have no father, master or mother,
Nor bread, nor cheese nor butter,
I have a merciful lord who gives me
Whatever he deems fit.

I am afraid to go to school,
But far more afraid simply to stand around
With the others outside. I myself
Will learn what everyone needs to know.

Learn with me too, lads,
We will make stout-hearted ministers.
I know that a peasant who does not drowse
Can make a sound man.

Trans. Copyright © Robert Elsie 1990 - publ. Forest Books


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