Translated by J. Bowring
OMER’S court is near to Sarajevo;
All around it is a woody mountain:
In the midst there is a verdant meadow;
There the maidens dance their joyous Kolo.
In the Kolo there is Damian’s loved one;
O’er the Kolo her fair head uprises,
Rises gay and lustrous in her beauty.
Midst the Kolo Nicholas addressed her:
“Veil your face, thou Damian’s best beloved!
For to-day death’s summons waits on Damian.
Half thy face veil over, lovely maiden!”
Hardly the prophetic words were uttered,
Ere a gun was heard from the green forest;
Damian, wounded, fell amidst the Kolo,—
Damian fell, and thus his love addressed him:
“O my Damian! O my sun of springtime!
Wherefore, wherefore didst thou shine so brightly,
Thus so soon to sink behind the mountain?”
“My beloved! O thou rose all beauteous!
Wherefore didst thou bloom so fair, so lovely,
And I never can enjoy, nor wear thee?”