France Preseren Poems

O happier half of days decreed to me,
My early years, so soon you passed away:
Few were the flowers that blossomed on that tree,
...

Above them savage peaks the mountains raise,
Like those which once were charmed by the refrain
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O'er thee, Misfortune, I have ceased to wail,
I'll utter no reproaches any more.
Thank God, I'm used to griefs thou hast in store
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Unblest by soothing winds of warmer days,
My songs remain, since from you, haughty maid,
They never won the word that might be said -
...

Mid wastes of Africa a wanderer sped:
He found no pathway; night was now afield.
Through clouds no stealthy glimmer was revealed;
...

O, Vrba, happy village, my old home -
My father's cottage stands there to this day.
The lure of learning beckoned me away.
...

These tear-stained flowers of a poet's mind,
Culled from my bosom, lay it wholly bare;
My heart's a garden: Love is sowing there
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A Slovene wreath your poet has entwined;
A record of my pain and of your praise,
Since from my heart's deep roots have sprung these lays,
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The vintage, friends, is over,
And here sweet wine makes, once again,
Sad eyes and hearts recover,
Puts fire in every vein,
...

1

Let my poem, like a shrine, contain - your name;
In my heart shall ever proudly reign - your name;
...