From the Serbian.
Dear God! How great the wonder of it all— When the army fell on level Kossovo With all the Jugovici in its ranks— Nine brave brothers and the tenth, their father! The mother of the Jugovici prays That God will give her quick eyes of a falcon And a swan's white wings that she might fly Out over Kossovo, that level plain, And see the Jugovici— all nine brothers And their father, noble old Jug Bogdan. And God Almighty grants her what she asks— Eyes of a falcon, white wings of a swan— And out she flies over level Kossovo And finds the Jugovici lying slain— All nine brothers, and the tenth, Jug Bogdan. Driven in the ground nine lances stand With nine gray falcons perching on their ends; Around the lances nine brave horses wait, And near the horses nine grim rampant lions. She hears the horses neigh, the lions roar, The nine gray falcons scream and croak and caw, And still her heart is cold as any stone And no tears rise at all, and no tears fall. Then she takes with her the nine brave horses, And she takes with her the rampant lions, And she takes with her the nine gray falcons— Slowly leads them off to her white castle. From far away her sons' nine wives could see her— And out they walk before the castle tower: And as the mother hears the widows weeping She hears the horses neigh, the lions roar, The nine gray falcons scream and croak and caw. And still her heart is cold as any stone And no tears rise at all, and no tears fall. When it is very late, when it is midnight, Damion's gray horse begins to scream; The mother goes to Damion's wife and asks: "O dearest daughter, my son's beloved wife, Why does Damion's stallion scream like this? Is he hungry for the choicest wheat? Does he thirst for cool Zvechen waters?" And the wife of Damion answers her: "O my mother, mother of my Damion, The stallion does not scream for choicest wheat, Neither does he thirst for Zvechen waters; Damion used to feed him oats till midnight, And at midnight he would walk the roads; The horse is grieving for his noble master— That he did not bring him here upon his back." And still the mother's heart is cold as any stone, And no tears rise at all, and no tears fall. When dawn has broken early in the morning, Two black ravens fly up to the castle, Their wings all red and bloody to the shoulders And their beaks all foaming with white foam. They carry there a warrior's severed hand With a wedding ring upon its finger And they drop it in the mother's lap. The mother of the Jugovici takes the hand And stares at it, turns it in her lap, And then she calls to Damion's faithful wife: "O my daughter, beloved wife of Damion, Do you know whose severed hand this is?" And the wife of Damion answers her: "O dearest Lady, mother of my husband, This is the hand of Damion, your son; I know because I recognize this ring Which is the ring I gave him at our wedding." Again the mother takes the severed hand And stares at it, turns it in her lap: Softly then she speaks to that white hand: "O dear dead hand, O dear unripe green apple, Where did you grow and where have you been plucked? Dear God! you grew upon this mother's lap And you were plucked upon the plain of Kossovo!" And now the mother can endure no more And so her heart breaks open in her sorrow For the Jugovici— all nine brothers And the tenth of them Jug Bogdan.
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