An Anthology of Czechoslovak Poetry/Czech Poetry/Karel Jaromír Erben
For other English-language translations of this work, see Christmas Eve (Erben).
KAREL JAROMÍR ERBEN
(1811–1870)
Born in Miletín, Erben was educated in Prague. His poetic works date from his early years, for in later life he was drawn into archival and historical studies. He was also known as a collector of folk songs and of fairy tales, and it is from a study of these that he was able to produce his best work. He was accepted as the master of Neruda, Hálek and their circle and all Czech ballad writers.
CHRISTMAS EVE
IBlack as a grave the night,The snow beats on the pane,Yet on the hearth within, the fire burns bright,Where Granny dozes and maids the soft flax spin.
“Buzz and turn, my spinning wheel, for Advent is almost gone,And soon, soon breaks the Christmas dawn!To spin’s a maiden’s joy, when winter weaves its spellsAnd not in vain her toil, since this her heart foretells:
A youth will come so brave and gayAnd to the busy maid will say:“Come with me, sweetheart mine!My faithful wife to be,My heart and faith are thine,While thou art true to me.
Our troth with joy we’ll crown,Gold heart and eyes of brown!”And she who spun the flax,Will spin her wedding gown.
Buzz and turn, my spinning wheel, Advent now will soon be o’er,And Christmas waits before the door.II
Over each, Oh Christmas, thy blessings fall!In memory bring’st thou a gift to all!
To the peasant, Christmas brew;To the cattle, messes;To the rooster, garlic stew;To his mate, green cresses;To the fruit trees, bones from the King’s repast;And golden sucklings to those who fast.Aye, but now my heart, care-free,Some strange vision waits to see—Down beyond the forest dark,By the manor in the park,Stand two snow-bound willow trees;One old willow nods and bends,Where the blue lake slowly wendsDrowsily beneath the ice.Here, the wise ones whispering say:“When the moonlit shadows stray,Silently from Heaven’s gate,They reveal a maiden’s fate.”
I who fear no ice nor star,I will break the ice so far,That deep down my eyes shall seeMy sweetheart has smiled on me.
Marie, Hannah, two dear maids,Like spring blossoms earthward-strayed,Which the fairer, none can tell.If a youth hears one, her spellSets his wakened heart aflame.Doth the other smile, alas!He forgets the first one’s name.
Midnight falls, and in the skyAll the little stars appearLike young lambs that fearful, shy,To the shepherd-moon keep near.Midnight, mother of the dark,Midnight, after Christmas day.O’er the fresh snow stealing, hark!What light footsteps pass this way?See, one maid kneels on the iceAnd the other waits to hear,Wrapt in solemn mysteries,What her bending comrade sees—“Hannah, little golden heart!What strange vision dost thou find?”“But a cottage dimly limnedLike the one where Václav dwells—Wait, it brightens—I can seeSomeone in the doorway there,And his coat is dark and spare,And his hat cocked on one side— Oh, I know him—bend by me!There’s the flower I gave him, see!God! It’s Václav’s self!”Up she starts, her heart beats fast,And the other kneels at last.“God’s speed, dearest dear Marie!What strange vision dost thou see?”“Nothing but a veil of mist,Dark and fearful, too, I wist;Red lights flicker in and outAnd the people kneel devoutAt an altar hung with black.Hark! I see them now, alas!They are bridesmaids and they bearA black cross-decked coffin there!”
A gentle breeze frolics across the young corn.Over the garden spring fragrance is borne.From the church anthems resound through the morn.Huzzah and hurrah! For a bride draweth nearAnd a bridegroom awaits her here.Happy, he waits for her ’mid the guestsIn his coat of green homespunAnd his hat with flowers drest.Thus she beheld himThat dark Christmas-tide;Now he is leading her home as his bride!Bright glows the future for thee, little Hannah!
Summer is o’er and across the meadowsCool winds are blowing. The church bell tolls.On a black bier a corpse is borne by bridesmaids. Candles are burning. A trumpet’s deep voice tolls Miserere.Whom, Oh maids, does the green wreath cover?One who faded in her blossoming!Tended by the sun, watered by the dew drops;Dead as if a scythe had cut a flower in the spring. Alas, Marie!
Winter has come, snow beats against the pane,Yet on the hearth within the fire burns bright,Where Granny is ailing and again the maidens spin.“Buzz and turn, my spinning wheel, for Advent will soon be pastAnd Christmas morning break at last.Oh Christmas Eve, thou night of wonder!Alone, alas! On thee I ponder.A year ago we sat together,Now two are gone, strange lands to weather.One sits and weaves a baby’s pillow;The other sleeps beneath the willow.Alas, Marie! We bide awhile and on the morrowWho will be gone to bring us sorrow?Buzz and turn, my spinning wheel.Life flies fast and nothing lasts—nothing lasts.”Only Truth lives on forever.Translated by Ludmila Vojáčková-Wetché