If I knew that I would hold myself proudly Poem by Matija Bećković

If I knew that I would hold myself proudly
In prison and before courts:
I would roast and burn but still bear all
Resisting everything with my bare limbs!

If I knew that I would push away
The table with my feet, myself put on the noose
My soul would earn itself eternity
And my hangman weep after me.

But I fear that I would entreat
And weeping, kneel, betraying all.
So as to keep at least my naked life
And spit on everything, agree to anything.

Translated by Bernard Johnson