# Cheskian Anthology/Waslaw Hanka

Waslaw Hanka.
Born 1791.
​His father (he tells me) was a farmer, whom, up to his 16th year, he assisted in the labours of the field, and had no time for study but the wintry hours which he could dedicate to the school. From the spring to the autumn he kept his father's sheep. The elements of the latin tongue he learned at home, and afterwards completed his knowledge of it at Hradeckrálowé (Königgratz). He studied philosophy at Prague—law at Vienna: his mother-tongue was always the object of his admiration, and in early life he "moralized in song." Polish and servian troops had been quartered on his father's farm, and from them he learned their native idioms. Having excited some notice, Dobrowsky became his patron and his instructor. His literary discoveries were the signal to his welcome into many distinguished societies—obtained for him the gold medal of the russian academy—marks of imperial favour from the emperor Alexander—and the most deserved respect and gratitude of all who feel any interest in slavonian antiquities.
Cekánj
Gak se ten mēsjček.
O'er the forest trees,
Fain would I inform me
Where my lover is:
For he made me promise,
Ere the moon should smile,
Here to wait his coming—
What a weary while!
All the cows—I've milk'd them—
O, the ling'ring hour:
I have wreath'd the arbor
With each fragrant flower.
Welcome would he be ;
Many a kiss should meet him,
Come, O come to me!
O! he comes—I hear him,
Yes! I hear him now—
No! it was the breezes
Rustling in the bough.
What can have detained him—
Has some maiden's song?
Else he had not linger'd,
Linger'd there so long.
I had scatter'd flow'rets,
Flow'rets for his bed:
I had hung up ivy
Garlands o'er his head.
Has some lambkin wander'd—
Does he track it now
Down the craggy mountain
To the deeps below?
Thou of palest beam!
Tell him that Lelida
Weeps—and weeps for him.
But if wolves have seiz'd him,
What have I to do,
Desolate Lelida—
This song is in the second number of a collection published at Prague in 1816, entitled Dwanáctero Pjsnj. Professor Zimmermann has translated it into german.
Hnew.
Gednau sme w neděli
Once seated with my love,
Upon the sod beneath
The blossom'd boughs above,
I stretch'd my hand to tear
Sweet flow'rets for a wreath,
And gave it to the fair.
I said, what ails thee? tell,
And hind thy brows with this.
The winds were whispering while
Her tears unwanted fell:
She saw my raptur'd smile.
She utter'd pensively,
O! how it pain'd my ear—
"I cannot smile like thee."
"My maid! what ails thee now—
What means the averted eye?
I'll punish thee, I vow—"
"Silence—for shame"—she said,
"I saw thee secretly
Nařek.
Ah! listen to my songs;
To ye that tower so high,
Gigantic, towards the sky;
I will confide my wrongs.
And yet ye know my wrongs;
Ye know my secret woe—
The struggles of thy souI—
My griefs—my doubts—the whole
Of sorrow's strife ye know.
Ye know how blest I seem'd,
When love was beaming o'er—
Ye know his solemn oath,
That bound—that pledg'd us both—
He broke the oath he swore.
And who can help me now?
Life's flowers and fruits are gone—
My roses are decay'd:
Ah! who shall help the maid,
Částo zamyšlenȳ.
Within the deep grove;
Sweet dreams gather'd round me,
Of thee, mine own love!
I saw thee before me,
All blooming as spring;
Thy smiles beaming o'er me—
A joy-giving thing.
Thy cheeks, they were glowing
With blushes all bright;
Thine eyes, they were flowing
With love and delight.
What bliss kindled thro' me—
Thy hand when I prest;
Thy lips smiling to me,
Said, lov'd one! be blest!
Yes! then thou wert seated—
Thy lips bore my kiss;
Thy kisses repeated
The rapture of bliss.
O joy! while I deem
My lips thine are pressing—
This is another of the Dwanáctero Pjsnj. There is a german translation by Hanslik.