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We worship you, oh God Almighty!
The sun came up, the moon was golden,
What were the maids of the Kingdom doing?
Thirty maidens had assembled,
Having left their mothers’ kulla,
Left behind their grannies’ spindles,
Left the lambs on noonday pastures,
In the shade were sleeping shepherds,
On the peaks stood guard the zanas,
The nightingales sang in the beech trees,
What is it they turned and said now?
“Where’ll we rest, oh Earthly Beauty?”
“Under the plane tree in that meadow.”
They spread out ferns and sat upon them,
Took out drinks and started drinking,
Each one talked about her lover,
Each one did commend her lover,
Jevrenija did stay silent,
With her head bowed did she sit there.
The maidens mocked and ridiculed her:
“You who are the fairest of us,
Are like a tree trunk now abandoned,
Why do we hear nothing from you?
Woebegone is your expression,
You don’t even look up at us,
Won’t you tell us of your lover,
Is your boyfriend some relation,
Is your boyfriend from your in-laws,
Is your boyfriend’s head all scurfy,
Does your honour keep you silent?”
“May God slay you, my companions,
If I had no mouth for speaking,
You’d force me through my ribs to tell you,
I’m no tree trunk now abandoned,
Far away’s Sokol Halili,
All day long he’s doing battle,
I know not if he thinks of me.
Whenever I now think about him,
If I’m eating, I stop eating,
If I’m drinking, I stop drinking,
If I’m sleeping, I go sleepless,
For three days I haven’t spoken.”
Then her mother did approach her,
Slapped the maiden’s face and uttered:
“How could you e’er love a Muslim?
Of our faith you’ve soiled the honour.”
To the king rushed off the mother:
“Which is it, king, your child or honour,
Shame or honour on your doorstep?
If you’d rather keep your honour,
Take a rope and hang her swiftly,
For your daughter loves a Muslim.”
What did the Captain King do now?
He locked his daughter in a chamber,
Sent the black gumans a message:
“I’m going to give my daughter to you,
In two weeks’ time you’re going to take her.”
Despair and horror seized the maiden,
She found paper for a letter,
But to write she had no ink, so
With her blood she wrote the letter,
The maiden prayed to the Almighty,
That the swiftly flying letter’d
Fall into the hands of Mujo.
A bird alighted at her window,
Saw the letter in blood written,
Saw the maiden there lamenting:
“Will you, bird, take pity on me
And bear this letter off to Mujo
So he can free me from my suffering?”
Quickly did the bird dispatch it,
Even quicker Mujo read it,
But he did not understand it,
So he ran up to his tower,
And with his rifle gave a warning
To call the Agas of Jutbina.
Arnaut Osmani with them
Took the letter and perused it,
Read the contents of the letter:
“This is from young Jevrenija,
Please inform Sokol Halili
I spoke of him to my companions,
My father’s locked me in a chamber,
To the black gumans he’ll give me,
In two weeks as a bride they’ll get me,
My body’ll find no rest among them,
Halili, don’t desert me. Save me!”
The Agas searched for a solution,
Then spoke Gjeto Basho Mujo:
“The black gumans, we’ll attack them,
Thirty gumans will we slaughter,
And dress ourselves in guman garments,
Teach our steeds to ride like Tatars,
Sheathe our swords as do Crusaders,
On our heads we’ll put their headgear,
Reach the king before the deadline,
And be the ones to get the maiden.”
A wise old man spoke up and countered:
“I’m afraid the king will know us
And will lead us to perdition,
For he’ll send us off to mass, and
There will make us say a blessing,
These are things we can’t do ever.
He’ll put a candle on the table,
Will not let it flame or flicker
While we slice the thing asunder,
Only gumans have this power.”
Then spoke Arnaut Osmani:
“Do not fret about the matter,
At saying mass I’m quite an expert,
And won’t let the candle flicker
While I slice the thing asunder.”
The black gumans, they attacked them,
Thirty gumans did they slaughter,
And dressed themselves in guman garments,
Taught their steeds to ride like Tatars,
Sheathed their swords as do Crusaders,
On their heads they put the headgear,
To the king did they then travel.
“God slay you, gumans,” did he utter,
“Why’ve you come before the deadline?”
Well spoke Gjeto Basho Mujo:
“We’ve come here, king, ‘fore the deadline,
For if the Agas of Jutbina
Heard the deadline you had set us,
Mujo would have tried to stop us.
He’d have got the bride and escorts,
He’d have taken us his prisoners.”
The king believed they were the gumans,
He placed a candle on the table.
What of Arnaut Osmani?
He did not let the candle flicker
While he sliced the thing asunder.
Well they drank and well they feasted,
Well they spent the night there sleeping,
When the day broke, bringing fortune,
The king to mass did send the heroes.
Mass said Arnaut Osmani,
And the Muslims said the blessing,
The heroes left when mass was over,
Taking, too, the maiden with them.
To see them off the king did follow.
When they reached the guman highway,
They took the road off to Jutbina.
“God slay you, gumans,” did he utter,
“Since you forsook the guman highway,
You took the road off to Jutbina!”
Then spoke Gjeto Basho Mujo:
“Oh Captain King, God damn and slay you,
We, my lord, are not black gumans,
We are Agas of Jutbina,
Look, we’re Mujo and Halili,
And here is Zuku Bajraktari.
By the God, oh king, who made us,
If it were not for your daughter,
I would make you one head shorter,
For you’ve caused much pain and trouble.”
To them the king lied: “Pleasant journey,
May we all be friends and allies!”
But really, he did not forgive them. |