(140)
“O listen now, my dear young queen:
With joy would I grant your request,
But I must bathe my infant son,
And I must wash his fine white clothes.”
Then speaks to her Vukasin’s queen:
(145)
“My dear young sister, go at once,
And bring the men their daily meal.
For I will wash your son’s white clothes,
And bathe with care your infant son.”
The bride of Gojko falters not,
(150)
She brings the men their daily meal.
When she does reach Bojana’s shore,
Young Gojko sees his young love there.
The hero’s heart is filled with pain,
He sorrows for his faithful wife,
(155)
He sorrows for his cradled son—
An orphan of a month of days—
And from his face the tears spill down.
Upon him looks his slender bride,
With slow, shy steps she reaches him,
(160)
With slow, shy steps; then softly speaks:
“What ails you so, my dearest lord,
That down your cheek those tears should flow?”
Then Gojko answers his young bride:
“An evil day, my faithful love!”
(165)
A golden apple I once had,
Into Bojana’s depths it fell.
I grieve for this—my pain won’t heal.”
She fathoms not, his slender bride,
And to her young lord gently speaks:
(170)
Ask God instead to grant you health.
A better apple—you will find.”
In deepest grief the hero then,
In pain, must turn his face away,
To look no more upon his love.
(175)
Here two Mrljavcerici come—
Young Gojko’s older brothers come.
They take the bride by her white hand;
They lead her off to be immured.
Now Rada, master builder comes,
(180)
And calls to him three hundred men.
Yet still she smiles, the slender bride,
She thinks it all a playful jest.
They place her in a gaping hole,
Three hundred artisans beat down,
(185)
Beat down the wood, and beat the stones,
And build a wall up to her knees:
But still she smiles, the slender bride:
Believes it all to be a jest.
(190)
Beat down the wood, and beat the stones,
And build the wall up to her waist;
When heavy grew thee wood and stones,
She see, poor one, what they will do:
An angry snake in anger screams!
(195)
She begs young Gojko’s brothers two:
“Do not give me, if you know God!
Do not immure a green young bride!”
She pleads but all to no avail,
Upon her they refuse to look.
(200)
Now shame and modesty are gone,
Her own young lord she now implores:
“Do not give me, my dearest lord!
I am so young, immure me not!
To my old mother go instead,
(205)
My mother has great stores of gold,
A slave or slave girl she will buy,
To be immured in Skadar’s walls”
She pleads but all to no avail.
And when the slender bride has seen
(210)
That all her pleas will bring no change,
She begs the master builder then:
“O brother, Rada, hear, by God!
A window for my bosom leave,
Draw out for me my two white breasts,
(215)
So when my tiny Jovo comes,
He still can suckle from my breasts.”
As brother Rada grants her plea,
And leaves a window for her breasts;
Into the light he draws her breasts,
(220)
So when her tiny Jovo comes,
He still can suckle from her breasts.
Once more the grieved one speaks to him:
“O brother Rada, hear, by God!
And leave a window for my eyes.
