by Rudyard Kipling (1865 - 1936)
Translation by Otokar Fischer (1883 - 1938)

The first chantey
Language: English 
Mine was the woman to me, darkling I found her;
Haling her dumb from the camp, took her and bound her.
Hot rose her tribe on our track ere I had proved her;
Hearing her laugh in the gloom, greatly I loved her.

Swift through the forest we ran; none stood to guard us,
Few were my people and far; then the flood barred us --
Him we call Son of the Sea, sullen and swollen.
Panting we waited the death, stealer and stolen.

Yet ere they came to my lance laid for the slaughter,
Lightly she leaped to a log lapped in the water;
Holding on high and apart skins that arrayed her,
Called she the God of the Wind that He should aid her.

Life had the tree at that word (Praise we the Giver!)
Otter-like left he the bank for the full river.
Far fell their axes behind, flashing and ringing,
Wonder was on me and fear -- yet she was singing!

Low lay the land we had left.  Now the blue bound us,
Even the Floor of the Gods level around us.
Whisper there was not, nor word, shadow nor showing,
Till the light stirred on the deep, glowing and growing.

Then did He leap to His place flaring from under,
He the Compeller, the Sun, bared to our wonder.
Nay, not a league from our eyes blinded with gazing,
Cleared He the gate of the world, huge and amazing!

This we beheld (and we live) -- the Pit of the Burning!
Then the God spoke to the tree for our returning;
Back to the beach of our flight, fearless and slowly,
Back to our slayers went he:  but we were holy.

Men that were hot in that hunt, women that followed,
Babes that were promised our bones, trembled and wallowed:
Over the necks of the Tribe crouching and fawning --
Prophet and priestess we came back from the dawning!

Authorship

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

Text added to the website: 2009-02-10 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:01:44
Line count: 32
Word count: 320

Ona však pěla…
Language: Czech (Čeština)  after the English 
Má byla, jedině má. Snědou já shléd ji.
Němou jsem z ležení táh a za ruku ved ji.
Kmen její v patách nám byl, dřív než jsem vzal ji.
Slyše ji k jitru se smát, já miloval ji.

Zůstali průvodci mí v daleké dáli.
Rychle jsme proběhli les. V tom se to valí —
před námi vře to a řve v proudění tupém.
V hrůze jsme čekali smrt, lupič i s lupem.

Dřív než jsem vypustil zbraň, kterou jsem mával,
skočila na úzký kmen, v řece jenž plaval.
Srstnatý kasajíc šat, jenž nahotu kryl jí,
volala k bohu vichrů, by zachráncem byl jí.

Strom, jak by vydrou se stal — Bohu buď sláva —
od břehu do středu vod strhnout se dává.
Řinčíc a svištíc v klín vln, sekyra sjela.
Úžas byl ve mně i děs — — Ona však pěla!

Za námi zánik a zem. Vůkol se koupal
v azuru třpytivý mír, k nebi jak stoupal.
Nebylo šeptu ni slov, stenu ni stínů.
Náhle se rozlila zář po vodním klínu.

Docela v blízkosti nám nebe se vzňalo.
Slunce jak olbřímí rek z propasti vzplálo.
Před naším okem, kam žár plamen svůj metá,
řítí se ohnivý vůz do brány světa.

Žili jsme — přežili, div! — hořící závrať.
Stromu však nakázal Bůh: „Zvolna se navrať!“
Kázal mu v opačný směr k břehu nás hnáti,
zpět v našich nepřátel moc. A byli jsme svatí!

Muži, jež rozlítil hon, lísat se jali,
pokorně hrbili hřbet, chvěli se, káli.
K nohám se vrhaly nám děti a matky — —
Prorok a kněžka my šli z rozbřesku zpátky!

Authorship

Based on

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

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Researcher for this text: Andrew Schneider [Guest Editor]

Text added to the website: 2019-08-09 00:00:00
Last modified: 2019-08-09 00:07:38
Line count: 32
Word count: 264