An Anthology of Czechoslovak Poetry/Czech Poetry/Josef Svatopluk Machar
For other English-language translations of this work, see A Sonnet of the Past and On Golgotha.
JOSEF SVATOPLUK MACHAR
(1864–)
Machar, a native of Kolín, lived for years in Vienna as a bank official. He claims to be a follower of Neruda, and he succeeded in becoming, like him, a representative of the conscience of his people. He criticized severely the evils which he found among his compatriots and in later years became interested in the ancient world and published many poems on classical themes. He is a sharp, incisive and somewhat bitter writer.
SICK HUMANITY
So long as man is well he can sustainThe killing hand of cold and hunger’s pain—Tighten his belt in famished fortitude,And breathe more deeply in the deadly feud.
But when he sickens, confidence takes flight,Leaving the feeble bed and fevered blight.He loathes the lazar’s diet all unsweet,And creeps to ague’s bath with staggering feet.
And if he summon strength to muse uponHis plight when appetite and health have gone,He finds small choice between the horns of fate:For harsh health slays, and ills annihilate!Translated by Watson Kirkconnell
A SONNET OF THE PAST
You sigh as backwards you may gaze;Ah, after all times then were best.But, my dear friend, be not depressed,You said it then as in these days.
And in that “then” not otherwise,You longed for only what was past.Thus further back you will surmise,Till you reach swaddling clothes at last.
And in those clothes perhaps you’d prate,Could you but speak or meditate,That older times were better still.
’Tis fate’s old witticism ill.So, it may be a better fateWhen hearts shall cease to meditate.Translated by Otto Kotouč
GOLGOTHA
It was the third hour when the cross was set upin the midst of crosses.in the midst of crosses. Spent with their laborthe soldiers sat on the trampled, bloody ground.And there they parted his garments among them,and there, for his robe woven without a seam,did they cast lots.did they cast lots. They that passed by reviled him,wagging their heads and saying: “Ha ha! Descendfrom the cross, Thou that madest Thyself a king! Thou wouldst destroy the temple and in three daysraise it up again! Now save Thyself!”—raise it up again! Now save Thyself!”Likewisealso the chief priests with the scribes and elders,mocking, said among themselves: “He saved others,let him save himself.” There were also womenlooking on from afar, who had been with him,ministering unto him in Galilee,Mary, Salome and Mary Magdalene,who came up with him unto Jerusalem.
On the cross he hung, numbered with transgressors,naked, shorn. Clotted blood clung to his body,scourged and sore, while streams from his hands and feet drippedred to the ground. His tired eyes gazed away,far over the white city, the hills and vales,to that ridge of small mountains, in whose lap liethe blue waters of the Galilean sea.
His head drooped.His head drooped. Whereupon a rustle of wingssounded in his ear. Not his Father’s angelwith a refreshing cup for his fainting soul,but an unclean spirit stretched its batlike wingsinto the air and flew toward him. It must needsbe, he suffer Satan to sit on his cross,bend down to his head, for his fainting spiritnow, at last, had refused to struggle longer.
And Satan said to him: “Woeful sufferer,on the wood of the cross we see each other again. To-day for the last time, for to-dayit is all decided. The battle’s ended.Rememberest Thou, there in the wilderness,how I took Thee up into an high mountain,three years ago, and shewed Thee mighty kingdoms,worldly glory, and promised Thee all, if Thouwouldst but bow down and worship me? Thou wouldst not.Thou wentest forth proclaiming the future Kingdomof Heaven to the poor, the weak. Thou wouldst givetreasures of enduring value to the purein heart. Thou wouldst show to the poor in spiritthe way up to the glory of the Father,and from the foreheads of generationsThou wouldst wipe away the traces of Adam’s curse.
“To death Thou wentest with quiet resignation,as the lamb that is led to the sacrificeopens not his mouth. Thy blood hast Thou poured outas the dew that it might water Thy young crop.
“Jesus of Nazareth, behold Thou to-daythe multitudes that gather about Thy cross!But a short time since, when with fame and gloryThou didst ride into the city, they strewed palmsunder Thine ass’s hoofs, crying ‘Hosanna,’calling Thee the Son of David, for they thoughtthat the Kingdom of God was at hand and thatthe longed-for time of milk and honey was come.Again didst Thou refuse. And then in angerand hate the disappointed multitude criedto Pilate, ‘Crucify him! Crucify him!’Now they pass by wagging their heads and mocking:‘Behold where hangs the King of the Jews! Let him save himself! He made himself the Son of God,but the Father hath somehow forgotten him!’—
“And the Father hath forgotten.“And the Father hath forgot “Behold Thouthe heavens, where Thou thoughtest He sat in glory,cloudless and bright, they smile on as quietly,with their blue unfeeling smile, before Thou wastand after Thou hast been. And so all the birdsof the air, and all the beasts of the fieldafter one law have lived and live. ’Tis my law.The stronger ever preyeth on the weaker.And so, too, it is with men. This whole wide worldis my kingdom. I am life. I rule alone.I rule in the hearts and in the souls; no onecan drive me out, neither Thou, nor Thy Father.Thy Kingdom of Heaven is a dream and Ishall leave that dream to the people forever.
“Behold the Roman centurion talkingpeacefully with the old scribe under Thy cross!So shall it ever be. Those two are now heirsto Thy words, Thy dreams. The one will change his prayersand the other one his Jahweh for Thy name,And the world will live on after all my laws.Why didst Thou not take all those kingdoms that time,the worldly glory from my bountiful hand?Thy young life would not have ended here in shame,and Thou mightest have come to fulness of days,to Thine own happiness and the joy of all.And what didst Thou bring? Death hast Thou sowed and strife.Thou Thyself art the first to fall. For Thy name,Thy dreams, untold hundreds shall pour out their bloodon crosses, in arenas and on scaffolds. And when it shall seem that Thy dream hath conquered,then in Thy name, and then only in Thy name,shall murder go on. Where’er the eye gazeth,there shall rows of funeral pyres stand aflamewhere in Thy name offerings are being burned,and in Thy name shall wars rage exceedingly,and in Thy name shall cities in madness burn,and in Thy name shall all the land be laid waste,and in Thy name shall be cursing manifold,and in Thy name shall there be slaves in bodyand in spirit.and in spirit“Behold the centurionand the old scribe, the first shall kill in Thy nameand the other bless in Thy name. Myriadsof creatures shall pay for Thy dream with their lives,their dearest treasures.their dearest treasur “And above this spilled bloodThy dream of the Eternal Kingdom of God,of the heavenly glory, shall ever soar,an illusion, as a reward to the dead,an allurement to the living, to the end.Why didst Thou not take that time all these kingdoms,and all this earthly glory? For life is mine,I am Life, I the ruler of all things here,and for all time I rule in the hearts, the souls! . . .”
And then Satan stood erect. And he unfurledhis black batlike wings which grew with the movementof the wind to a breadth prodigious, dreadful.And over Golgotha, over the city,the vales and the hills, over the broad country,the distant mountains, over the blue watersof the Galilean sea, and far kingdomsand bright blue seas, spread the dark and gloomy wings.
And there was great darkness over all the landand the earth trembled.and the earth trembleAnd then in the last hourJesus looked about him, cried with a loud voice:“Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani!”and yielded up the ghost.Translated by Lillian P. Mokrejs