Saturday, November 5, 2011

Sjeti se, sjeti se

Sjeti se, sjeti se
petog studenog

Twe oczy, skąd Kupido na wsze ziemskie kraje,
 Córo możnego króla, harde prawa daje,
 Nie oczy, lecz pochodnie dwie nielitościwe,
 Które palą na popiół serca nieszczęśliwe.
 Nie pochodnie, lecz gwiazdy, których jasne zorze
 Błagają nagłym wiatrem rozgniewane morze.
 Nie gwiazdy, ale słońca pałające różno,
 Których blask śmiertelnemu oku pojąć próżno.
 Nie słońca, ale nieba, bo swój obrót mają
 I swoją śliczną barwą niebu wprzód nie dają.
 Nie nieba, ale dziwnej mocy są bogowie,
 Przed którymi padają ziemscy monarchowie.
 Nie bogowie też zgoła, bo azaż bogowie
 Pastwią się tak nad sercy ludzkimi surowie?
 Nie nieba: niebo torem jednostajnym chodzi;
 Nie słońca: słońce jedno wschodzi i zachodzi;
 Nie gwiazdy, bo te tylko w ciemności panują;
 Nie pochodnie, bo lada wiatrom te hołdują.
 Lecz się wszytko zamyka w jednym oka słowie:

 Pochodnie, gwiazdy, słońca, nieba i bogowie.

a fellow who calls himself Deacon Jim translates this as:

 O great king’s daughter! Your eyes
 From where Cupid continues to abide.
 No, not eyes but two cruel torches
 Which burn to ashes the hearts of the unlucky.
 No, not torches but stars, which aurora
 With sudden wind tosses the sea.
 No, not stars but suns which burn so bright
 That no mortal eye can comprehend to view.
 No, not suns, but the heavens, because they have
 In their color that which the heavens cannot give.
 No, not the heavens, but almighty gods
 In front of whom kneel all the world’s monarchs.
 No, not even gods! For do gods
 Rule so severely over the hearts of men?
 No, not sky: For sky has only one course.
 No, not sun: For the sun always rises and sets.
 No, not stars: For stars only shine at night.
 No, not torches: For torches fail in the storm.
 No, they are everything contained in the word “eye:”
 Torches, stars, suns, heavens, and gods.

About her Shakespeare wrote "The Tempest" and Peacham, in honor of her marriage to  the Elector Palatine, Frederick V on St. Valentine's Day 1613 wrote the "Nuptial:"

Nymphs of sea and land, away,
This, Eliza's wedding day,
Help to dress our gallant bride
With the treasures that ye hide:
Some bring flowery coronets,
Roses white and violets:
Doris, gather from thy shore
Coral, crystal, amber, store,
Which thy queen in bracelets twist
For her alabaster wrist,
While ye silver-footed girls
Plait her tresses with your pearls:
Others, from Pactolus' stream,
Greet her with a diademe:
Search in every rocky mount
For the gems of most account:
Bring ye rubies for her ear,
Diamonds to fill her hair,
Emerald green and chrysolite
Bind her neck more white than white;
On her breast depending be
The onyx, friend to chastity;
Take the rest without their place,
In borders, sleeves, her shoes, or lace:
Nymphs of Niger, offer plumes,
Some, your odours and perfumes:
Dian's maids, more white than milk,
Fit a robe of finest silk:
Dian's maids who mont to be
The honour of virginity.
Heavens have bestowed their grace,
Her chaste desires, and angel's face.

She was of Carpathian descent, Polish in fact.  Had Guy Fawke's torches touched the tinder leading to the powder she might have been Queen Elizabeth II of England,  nay, more, queen of all the lands between the Urals and the Great Western Sea.

Alas and Alack, as it was to be, the Queen of Hearts became only Zimní Královna, the Winter Queen, and that for one winter alone as her husband was defeated at Bílá hora (White Mountain) in 1620. 

Alas alas alas.  If the Catholics had won in England, the protestants would have won on the continent.  How we in the south would have loved a Polish monarch instead of a Hungarian one.  Instead, what happened subsequently happened subsequently and here we are.   Hmmm, as it is, all the English monarchs since Elizabeth are her descendants, and there are some who worry that we Carpathians and Balkan types will overwhelm the "native" population of the Western Islands.  Heh, perhaps we shall.  

Sjeti se, sjeti se
 petog studenog

remember remember
the fifth of November

 do sljedeći put, blagoslov - until next time, blessings,

Canovals a.k.a. Slavonac
5 studenog 2011

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