Page:Czecho-Slovak Student Life, Volume 18.djvu/515
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To Youth.
(This Translation of “Mládeži” by Pavel Orságh-Hviezdoslav, the Leading Slovak Poet, Is Dedicated to the Graduates of All Our American Czecho-Slovak Higher Institutions Whom We Present in This Issue. Translated for the Student Life by George A. Gallik)
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O Youth, thou art our sole possessor of morning!
The regent of May and the fortunate steward
And keeper of Spring; I am turning to you from
The sadness of shadows, from my chases far distant.
Now silvered with hoarfrost,—and call you to open
The gates of Eden closed to us.
The regent of May and the fortunate steward
And keeper of Spring; I am turning to you from
The sadness of shadows, from my chases far distant.
Now silvered with hoarfrost,—and call you to open
The gates of Eden closed to us.
Your cheek is aglow with the blush of Aurora,
The gleams in your eyes are the first darts of sunrise;
Your lips bear spontaneous song, pollen, and honey:
Your soul is an azure serene, and your mind has
The daring of lightning.—Oh, turn ye the keys and
Unearth our sunken Paradise.
The gleams in your eyes are the first darts of sunrise;
Your lips bear spontaneous song, pollen, and honey:
Your soul is an azure serene, and your mind has
The daring of lightning.—Oh, turn ye the keys and
Unearth our sunken Paradise.
Take swarm with the bees to the bountiful fields, to
Brocades of the meadows and sweet feasts of forests:
And garner the mellow provisions in season,
Ere myriad maggots diminish the harvest.
When winter invades us—ay, swift it advances!—
May our hive suffer no distress.
Brocades of the meadows and sweet feasts of forests:
And garner the mellow provisions in season,
Ere myriad maggots diminish the harvest.
When winter invades us—ay, swift it advances!—
May our hive suffer no distress.
Diverging, however, disperse with the birds to
Some frolicsome pleasure; it, too, has its value.
And warbling your carol, “Be blithesome and merry!”
Give vent to your spirit in rapturous dancing.
And jiggle your feet to the tune of some ditty
That joy may enter our sad hearts.
Some frolicsome pleasure; it, too, has its value.
And warbling your carol, “Be blithesome and merry!”
Give vent to your spirit in rapturous dancing.
And jiggle your feet to the tune of some ditty
That joy may enter our sad hearts.
Then back to the task, still the paramount duty
Of living. And clasp on the vigor of giants,
Don the armor of knighthood; and soar up, thou eagle!
Why? Wherefore this toil? For the throne of Integrity
And Beauty and Truth, for the reign of the Spirit!—
Oh, summon back our Eden lost!
Of living. And clasp on the vigor of giants,
Don the armor of knighthood; and soar up, thou eagle!
Why? Wherefore this toil? For the throne of Integrity
And Beauty and Truth, for the reign of the Spirit!—
Oh, summon back our Eden lost!