František Ladislav Čelakovský

“ And the splendor of thy gifts brightens our life;
When songs of gladness in our hearts find place,
And when with joy and peace our soul is rife.
Or when dark tempests gather overhead,
And want or grief cast shadows on our days;
When our earthly paths are crossed by foes we dread
And tragic sorrow against our courage plays. ”

“ Beneath a mountain, in a tree,
Where high above, the tall oaks seem
To weave a shady roof for me.
When the stillness, soft, appealing,
Settles in yon airy height,
When the passing day is stealing
Over hill and dale in fright.
Holy stillness . . . nearer, nearer,
O’er my head I hear it clearer,
’tis the flow of time that stole
Through my languid, dreaming soul.
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content. ”

“ MY dearest, dearest mother!
⁠Come tell, O tell to me,
What that, which in my bosom
⁠Unceasing plays can be?
It playeth and it singeth,
⁠Sometimes about it springs;
Sure shut up in my bosom’s
⁠A little bird with wings. ”