ALEKSA SANTIC - OSTAJTE OVDJE

ALEKSA SANTIC - OSTAJTE OVDJE

Ostajte ovdje!... Sunce tuđeg neba
Neće vas grijat k'o što ovo grije;
Grki su tamo zalogaji hljeba
Gdje svoga nema i gdje brata nije.

Od svoje majke k'o će naći bolju?!
A majka vaša zemlja vam je ova;
Bacite pogled po kršu i polju,
Svuda su groblja vaših pradjedova.

Za ovu zemlju oni bjehu divi,
Uzori svijetli što je branit znaše,
U ovoj zemlji ostanite i vi,
I za nju dajte vrelo krvi vaše.

Ko pusta grana kad jesenja krila
Trgnu joj lisje i pokose ledom,
Bez vas bi majka domovina bila;
A majka plače za svojijem čedom.

Ne dajte suzi da joj s oka leti,
Vrat’te se njojzi u naručja sveta;
Živite zato da možete mrijeti
Na njenom polju gdje vas slava sreta!

Ovdje vas svako poznaje i voli,
A tamo niko poznati vas neće;
Bolji su svoji i krševi goli
No cvjetna polja kud se tuđin kreće.

Ovdje vam svako bratski ruku steže –
U tuđem svijetu za vas pelen cvjeta;
Za ove krše sve vas, sve vas veže:
Ime i jezik, bratstvo, i krv sveta.

Ostajte ovdje!... Sunce tuđeg neba
Neće vas grijat k'o što ovo grije, –
Grki su tamo zalogaji hljeba
Gdje svoga nema i gdje brata nije...



ALEKSA SANTIC - OSTAJTE OVDJE ENGLISH TRANSLATION

STAY HERE!

Stay here! … The sun of strangers’ sky
Won’t warm you like this one does
Bitter are the bites of bread over there
Where there’s no one close and no brother.

From their own mother, who will find better?
And your mother is this land
Look around at the karst* and the fields
Everywhere are the graves of your grandfathers.

For this land, they were great ones*
Bright models, that knew how to defend it
In this land, you stay too
Give the spring of your blood for it.

Like a deserted branch, when autumn’s wings
rip off her leaves and slash her with ice,
Without you your motherland would be
And mother cries for her child.

Don’t let tear to fall from her eye,
Come back to her in her sacred arms;
Live for the chance you could die
On the silent field where glory awaits for you!

Here everyone knows you and loves you
And there, no one will know you,
Our own karsts are better even bare
Then the flower fields where stranger walks.

Here everyone shakes your hand like a brother
In strangers world absynth* blooms for you
For this karsts everything, everything ties you:
Name and language, brotherhood, sacred blood

Stay here! … The sun of strangers’ sky
Won’t warm you like this one does.
Bitter are the bites of bread over there
Where there’s no one close and no brother

* Karst is the most often type of landscape in Herzegovina (where poet lived, in Mostar) –
it is just bare rock, with little vegetation
*great ones isn’t exact translation, its “giant” (or “div” as we say)


Translation: AZRA