Velika Togenburg

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Velíka, Togenburg!
by France Prešeren


Great, Toggenburg, was the suffering
Of yours; mine overcomes it:
For at last your darling softens
as she daily opens the window of your cell.
Till the dawn to the evening you are happy
Hoping that her gentle image will be seen,
And even when the deadly drop of sweat comes
Your trustful gaze turns to her.
In the heaven I mean to see her eyes
- When I dare to look in them -
As two angry cherubs with a fiery sword.
To not offend her in perpetual trembling,
I, poor soul, flee from her sight;
no ray is shining into the night of my life.



Notes:

Translated by Matija Podhraški (see the GNU FDL version at [1])

On the author see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/France_Preseren

The Slovenian original (with audio file as mp3) can be found at http://www.preseren.net/slo/3_poezije/80_velika.asp

The poem is referring to the popular German ballad Knight Toggenburg by Friedrich Schiller.

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