Petr Bezruč

“ How if one day I should fling my accursed lamp into the pit,
And stiffen my bended neck,
Clench my left hand and stride forth and onward,
And in a sweeping curve from the earth to the skyline upwards
Should upraise my hammer and my flashing eyes,
Yonder beneath God's sunshine!“Silesian Songs” (1909) .
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1928.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1970, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 52 years or less. ”

“ So my eye blazes,
A bloodstained gown flutters from my shoulders,
In my right hand the pitman's hammer I bear,
My left was struck off by a boulder of coal,
My eye was scorched out by the blaze of a flame—
Upon my back squat a hundred murderers from Modrá
(Like savage rats they gnaw into my neck)
Upon my hips squat a hundred Jews from Polská— [1]
Jeer ye, my God, jeer ye! Such my array,
I, Petr Bezruč, Bezruč of Těšín,
Bard of an enslaved nation.
Why are the youth of Vltava [2] becomes as a captive flittermouse? ”

“ And bluntly we gaze in a flock
How they place our heads upon the block,
As ox at slaughter of an ox.
And marquis Gero is so rich:
Give casks to us for seventy,
Give casks for thousands seventy.
A half of us will Germanize,
A half of us will Polanize,
A hundred lips will peal for thee:
Hail, marquis Gero, hail to thee!
But first before we perish thus,
May ruddy wine intoxicate us,
Bond-woman, daughter, man and son,
Before Těšín, before Těšín.
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content. ”

“ The broad hammer I smite upon the pit;
At Salmovec I dig,
At Rychvald I dig, and at Petřvald I dig.
Hard by Godula my wife freezes and whimpers,
Famishing children weep at her bosom;
I dig, under the earth I dig.
Sparks flash from the pit, sparks flash from my eyes ”

“ The country round with ’bundance beams—blossom, grain and grape of vine;
And there in gratitude urgent work and merry song combine.
All hands are free from fetters, pleasant is the laborer’s brow,
Nowhere custodian with whip, nor sleek the slaveholder now;
Nowhere glistens the savage soldier’s lance and spear, nor appear
The white folds of the Brahman’s robe hypocritically near;
Nowhere is writ in colors diverse the mark of caste,
’Tis the happy native land of brothers equal and free at last. ”

“ The beggar does not wind in rags, nor wastes his wealth the idler;
Gone are the wretched huts, tidy homes though plain are everywhere;
And where a stately palace proudly towers to the skies, not there
Is a haughty egoist’s abode, opens wide its gates to all;
The people’s parliament deliberates free their rise and fall;
From there the glow of knowledge spreads about a benevolent light,
Ennobling the human feelings, there in art soul finds delight.—
The clash of chains has wakened me, the beautiful dream is effaced,
So sadly interchanged, by the present shame and woe replaced.—
But no! ”

“ When spurtings of heat ooze out from the boulders,
The Morávka torrent is parched in its courses,
Below are uplifted the arms of the miners,
The blacksmiths are pounding the iron in its redness,
On the fields that stretch onwards at Krásná, at Pražma,
Women bow down in the glow of the sunshine. ”

“ Slaves too will cast the handful of earth to my fetters in my grave.
But, you, O younger comrades, ere your course shall know time no more,
You shall ascend with happy tread upon freedom’s sunny shore.
Then may the rude fist with whip around about in darkness reign.
But let each cherish faithfully for the future that blessed refrain;
Let all minds be united by the bond of our great endeavor,
And till time bids thee to action, gather your forces together;
All peoples free shall fraternize, the bonds of slaves will fall,
And our flag too, O brothers, will wave in the clear heights o’er all. ”

“ Beneath Bohumín, where the speech of my grandsires has ceased to resound,
And amid Hrušov, where smoke issues from a red factory,
My lord's factory, where we breathe hard and hardly,
Thou liest, my hamlet, with the wooden chapel.
Decayed are the huts, upon whose roofs the moss grows rankly ”

“ Raise high our heads up from the dust,
And to the world in Freedom’s temples,
Proclaim Thy laws so true and just!
[22] XXIII
I stand at dusk upon a cliff, ’gainst which mid rumble of rain
And smoke is dashed in roaring spray the water’s vast hurricane.
Just as a bird that seeks in vain for rest the isle’s seclusion,
My gaze dips gloomily in mists, of clouds and waves confusion
Which dark extends ahead into unbounded space and which teems
Belike a witches’ caldron with waterspouts and seething streams.
As here I stand and backward gaze, in slav’ry groans the land there ”

“ An Old Man.—Disclose the deeds of ages long gone by.
The Bard.—Other themes by far to-day resound through my unhappy soul,
Like the roar and rumble of the storms that o’er the heavens roll.
Far from these are flowery adornment, girlish grace, and heroes’ pride: [13]
Sighs, groans, gnash of teeth and clash of chains now in my themes abide.
Slaves.—Clash of chains is but a common strain to us, yet play and sing;
Subdue thy voice, lest our sleeping lords and guard the whip to you bring. ”

“ Raging waterspouts and bursting clouds,—all are a bloody hue;
And crash and din deafen the ear, as when in the battle’s fray
Clash countless spears and lances of raving armies without array.
But anon the drumming of the storm grows still, the seething ceases,
The sun’s golden shield, peeping from the rosy vapors, increases.
Victorious day rends the clouds and mists in flowing tatters,
Just as in flying fringe are torn the battle-worn banners. [24]
The scattered hosts of darkness flee; silent grows the stormy scene ”

“ Tak jako to táhne z vonných rév,
tak jako ty kypíš, má sloko —
tak hoří ta ohnivá slovácká krev,
tak ret pálí a srší oko.
Kdo chce nás bít, kdo chce nás urazit?
My nevíme o pánu žádném —
jak vesele dovedem žít a pít,
tak vesele na poli padnem. ”

“ In dismal monotone abounds
For me the selfsame melody.
On my people's nape 's one dragon ill,
One fist about their throat is twirled;
And from my verses one dactyl,
One sorrow stares into the world. ”

“ Frigid's the cap I wear, with a visor on,
Orphans' lamenting prayers do not follow me;
Eaten up fields for them have hares of thine.
Heartless and soulless thou'rt, lightning smite thee!
I am from Bezkyd, thralldom and sorrow's son. ”

“ As is usually the case with a nation held in subjugation, so with the Czecho-Slovaks, their poets kept alive the national spirit until their liberation. The purpose of this little volume is not only to present a few specimens of Czecho-Slovak poetry, but also to show how Czecho-Slovak poets kept the “fires of Liberty” burning, while awaiting “dawn’s redemptory glow.” For, in the words of Jablonský,—
“Ask thou what’s more beautiful,—
Hither lay thy right hand:
’Tis the heart, beloved son,
Beating for native land.” ”

“ Of the poets herein represented, Jan Kollár, the Slovak poet, is known as the poet of Pan-Slavism. Vítězslav Hálek was the forerunner of the modern school of poets, instilling idealism and enthusiasm into the then newly resurrected national life. Svatopluk Čech has the distinction of being the most popular of all the Czech poets. ”

“ A spiral is a regular endless curve beginning at the center and running in diverging rings continually in a circle so that the distance of a point on any one revolution from the second is as great as the second from the third and so on.—A Definition of a Spiral. ”

“ Since the World War has resulted in liberating oppressed nationalities, and Czecho-Slovakia has again regained her ancient independence, undoubtedly a greater opportunity will be offered to learn more about the language and literature of that liberty loving people. ”