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Umřela panna v době jarních let, jako když uschne mladé růže květ; umřela panna, růže v poupěti - škoda jí, škoda v zemi ležeti! „Nedávejte mne ve vsi na hřbitov, tam bývá nářek sirotků a vdov, tam slzí hořkých mnoho plynulo: srdéčko mé by hořem hynulo. Pochovejte mne vpod zelený les, tam na mém hrobě kvésti bude vřes; ptáčkové mi tam budou zpívati: srdéčko moje bude plesati." Neminul ještě ani rok a den, hrob její drobným vřesem povlečen; nepřišlo ještě ani do tří let, na jejím hrobě vzácný květe květ. Lilie bílá - kdo ji uviděl, každého divný pojal srdce žel; lilie vonná - kdo ji pocítil, v každém se touhy plamen roznítil. - „Hoj, moje chaso, vraného mi stroj! Chce mi se na lov pod zelenou chvoj, chce mi se na lov pod jedlový krov: zdá mi se, dnes že vzácný bude lov!" Halohou, halou! v chrtů poštěkot, příkop nepříkop - hop! a plot neplot: pán na vraníku napřaženou braň a jako šipka před ním bílá laň. „Halohou, halou! vzácná moje zvěř, nespasí tebe pole ani keř!" Zdviženo rámě, jež ji probije - tu místo laňky - bílá lilie. Pán na lilii hledí s údivem, rámě mu kleslo, duch se tají v něm; myslí a myslí - prsa dmou se výš, vůní či touhou? Kdo mu rozumíš? „Hoj, sluho věrný, ku práci se měj: tu lilii mi odtud vykopej; v zahradě své chci tu lilii mít - zdá mi se, bez ní že mi nelze byt! „Hoj, sluho věrný, důvěrníče můj, tu lilii mi střež a opatruj, opatruj mi ji pilně v den i noc - divná, podivná k ní mě pudí moc!" Opatroval ji jeden, druhý den; pán její vnadou divně přeblažen. Leč noci třetí, v plné luny svit, pospíchá sluha pána probudit. „Vstávej, pane můj, chyba v odkladě: tvá lilie se vláčí po sadě; pospěš, nemeškej, pravýť nyní čas: tvá lilie si divný vede hlas!" „Životem vratkým smutná živořím, co v poli rosa, co na řece dým: jasně slunečný svitne paprsek - rosa i pára, i můj zhyne věk!" „Nezhyne věk tvůj, tuť důvěru mám; před sluncem jistou ochranu ti dám: zdi pevné budou tvojí záštitou, ač, duše milá, budeš chotí mou." Vdala se za něj; blaze bydlila, až i synáčka jemu povila. Pán hody slaví, štěstí svého jist; tu mu královský posel nese list. „Můj věrný milý!" tak mu píše král, „chci, abys zejtra ke službě mi stál; chci, aby přijel každý věrný lech, potřeba velká - všeho doma nech." Smutně se loučil s milou chotí svou, jako by tušil svou nehodu zlou. „A když mi strážcem nelze býti tvým, svou matku tobě strážci zůstavím." Špatně mu matka vůli plnila, špatně manželku jeho střežila; na nebi slunce - pobořena síň: „Zhyn, paní noční, zhyn, obludo, zhyn!" Pán jede domů - dosti služby jest; tu mu žalostná v ústrety jde věst: „Tvé pacholátko již ti nežije a po tvé paní - zvadlá lilie!" „Ó matko, matko, ty hadice zlá, čím ublížila tobě žena má? Otrávila jsi žití mého květ: bodejž i tobě zčernal boží svět!"
Text Authorship:
- by Karel Jaromir Erben (1811 - 1870), "Lilie", appears in Kytice z pověstí národních [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Ladislav Basler (1874 - 1944), "Lilie", 1898, melodrama [sung text not yet checked]
- by Alois Hnilička (1826 - 1909), "Lilie" [sung text not yet checked]
- by Otakar Ostrčil (1879 - 1935), "Lilie", 1895 [ orchestra ], note: this piece was inspired by the poem but has no vocal parts [sung text not yet checked]
- by Karel Risinger (b. 1920), "Lilie" [sung text not yet checked]
- by Eugen Miroslav Rutte (1855 - 1903), "Lilie", 1879, melodrama [sung text not yet checked]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2025-07-31
Line count: 84
Word count: 493
A young girl died in the spring of her years, as when the young bloom of a rose withers; the young girl died, a rose fresh in its bud— such a great pity she lies in the ground! "Bury me not in the village church yard, amidst sad widows’ and orphans’ lament, where so many bitter tears have been shed: my dear heart would grieve and perish, all spent. Bury me in the green forest, rather, for there on my grave will grow fine heather; and when the birds sing to me in full voice, my dear heart will hear them and will rejoice.” Scarcely has yet passed a year and a day, and fine heather is covering her there; not even three years have so far gone by, upon her grave blooms a flower most rare. There bloomed a white lily—those who saw it, were all overcome by a strange sadness; a fragrant lily—in all who sensed it, was aroused a desire for love’s caress. “Hey there, my lads, go saddle my raven! Along greenwood trails I will hunt away, I will go hunting amid fir and pine: I think there will be a fine bag today!” Hey there, halloo! Hear the hounds, hear them bay, ditch no ditch, fence no fence—just leap away!— a rider’s on his black horse, taking aim, white doe, swift as an arrow, before him. “Hello, hello, hello, my precious prey, be it in field or bush, you’re caught today!” The arm is poised, ready to strike her dead— no doe is here—a white lily instead. The huntsman views the lily in wonder, his breath taken away, his arm just fell; he’s confused, his breast fair bursts asunder— from fragrance or from longing—who can tell? “Hey good servant, do as you are bidden: dig up the lily and take it from here; I will plant this lily in my garden, I must have it, for to me it’s so dear. Hey, good servant, be my true confidant, guard this lily and cherish it for me, day and night care for this lily you plant, some strange power draws me to her, you see. He cared for her one day, and the next one; her charm strangely overawed the master. Come the third night, brightly a full moon shone, the servant has to wake him from slumber. “Get up now, sir, and come with me at once, your lily is trailing all round the place; do not delay, there is no time to lose; your lily is speaking in a strange voice!” “I live a sad life, always uncertain, with dew on the fields, mist on the river: but when there come those rays of bright sunshine dew and vapour go—my time is over!” “For sure, now is not the end of your days; I will protect you from the sun’s bright rays: strong walls shall be built here to guard your life, and you, my dear soul, you will be my wife.” She married him and happily lived on; in good time she bore him a little son. He celebrates, sure of their happy lives; but then from the king a message arrives. “My dear faithful man!”—came the king’s command— “ride tomorrow, join the soldierly band; all faithful subjects my summons must heed, abandon all at home, great is the need.” He parted from his dear wife right sadly, fearing that for him all would end badly. “Now if I cannot keep guard over you, my mother shall do so, caring in lieu.” To fulfil his wishes his mother failed, let him down; his wife she badly guarded; the hall’s a ruin, sun’s high in the sky: “Die, lady of the night, die, monster, die!” Now, his duty done, homewards he’s riding; where he hears a lamentable tiding: “Your toddler is no longer of this life, this withered lily used to be your wife!” “O mother, mother, you wicked old snake, surely my wife never caused you heartache? You have poisoned the flower of my life: may you too suffer in God’s world such strife!”
Text Authorship:
- Translation from Czech (Čeština) to English copyright © 2025 by Patrick John Corness, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in Czech (Čeština) by Karel Jaromir Erben (1811 - 1870), "Lilie", appears in Kytice z pověstí národních
This text was added to the website: 2025-08-08
Line count: 84
Word count: 681