An Anthology of Czechoslovak Poetry/Czech Poetry/Vítězslav Hálek
For other English-language translations of this work, see Evening Songs (Hálek).
VÍTĚZSLAV HÁLEK
(1835–1874)
Born at Dolinek near Mělník, Hálek studied at the University of Prague. He belongs in the same general group as Neruda. In addition to writing stories and dramas, Hálek won his greatest fame by his Evening Songs, a collection of poems which is permeated by a deep love of nature and of humanity, pitched in a sentimental key.
EVENING SONG
No. XXIV
In heaven the moon and myriad stars; In the forest a thousand voices.It seems as though the great, wide world In a shower of love rejoices.
The tender leaflet’s varied tones In whispered accents blending,As though to everything the world Were happy kisses sending.And yet I know that many a heart With silent grief is swelling;In many an eye still bright with youth The bitter tears are welling.Translated by Libuše Breuer Scholten
EVENING SONG
No. LX
Whoever plays with golden strings,Him honor more than thyself even;For know that God did love thee so,He sent a poet down from heaven.
’Tis terrible when plague and wantTo God’s chastisement must belong;Of punishments the greatest though,Is when a nation lacks in song.
That race indeed has yet to die,That has its prophets still to sing;And every song that’s born in heavenIn death new life doth ever bring.Translated by Otto Kotouč
EVENING SONG
No. LXI
Cast ye not stones at your prophets,For like the birds bards are alone;They never will return to himWho casts but once at them a stone.
A nation asks God’s punishmentWhen unrevered its bards it wrongs;And direst is the curse of God,Whenever he withdraws his songs.
A poet’s heart is truly pure,And likewise from all wrath apart.And from his heart whate’er he sings,That carry thou within thy heart.Translated by Otto KotoučEVENING SONG
No. LXII
From heaven the angels now descend; These angels are sweet slumbers.Each one doth bring to us in dreams Joys in endless numbers.
Where’er these angels of night appear All things with kindness beam.Their knowledge of bliss in heaven above They relate to us in a dream.
Softly now the eyelids droop, O sweet, sweet slumber’s might!Thy picture is ever before my eyes, My dear loved one, good night.Translated by Božena Strejcová
Published in Komenský
Published in Komenský