Handsome Yeva, Original Slavic and Baltic Folk Poetry #3

Luck was heading to the shrine,
Asking company of mine.
Golden waistband Luck did wear,
Gave me one of silver flare.
Luck said, giving silver swirl:
“Proudly wear it, little girl!”
Спрогис 303,4

Boon for those happy boys,
Who were born to bright sunshine,
Luck is forging spurs with noise,
Dipping them in silver fine,

Boon for those happy girls,
Who were born to bright sunshine,
Luck is forging broaches of pearls,
Dipping them in silver fine.
Спрогис 305

Utter I my own talk,
How I decide it’s cool,
Can’t I quit of being bloke,
Contra Luck’s decisive rule.
Спрогис 305,6

Shape my life does people’s hand?
Think they are the fate of mine?
Runs it like my Luck has planned,
Not by petty wills of thine.
Спрогис 306

Luck does call me, waving hand,
From the mountain top,
She spots, in a flat valley I stand,
Talking to a useless flop.
Спрогис 306

In the evening sets the Sun,
Stepping onto boat gold,
Upward, morning does it run,
Leaving boat, waves which rolled.
Спрогис 310,1

Solar horses bath in tidal,
Waters deeply shiny green,
Sun holds golden lengthy bridle,
Sitting on the steep ravine.
Спрогис 311

Three days and three nights,
Sun and god are in fights,
Sons of god the ring did steal,
Albeit the child’s of Sun appeal.

Three days and three nights,
Sun and god are in fights,
Daughter of Sun did break the sword,
The son’s of god, in her accord.

Three days and three nights,
Sun and god are in fights,
Sun from feet the Moon did knock,
With silver, fast and heavy rock.
Спрогис 311

Child of Sun did calmly swim,
In the bend of rapid stream,
Son of god on her did spy,
Hid in tree of amber dye.
Спрогис 311,2

Strike the well to deepest root,
Oh, Perkon, do rumble, grumble,
Child of Sun did drown mute,
Yore, when washing chalice amber.
Спрогис 316

Quiet, quiet, goes god,
From ridge up high, to low dale,
No flower sways on meadow broad,
No soul suspects he’s on his trail.

Quiet, quiet, goes god,
To low dale, from ridge up high,
No noise comes from his chariot,
His horses silently do fly.
Спрогис 300

I saw on a road that horse,
God rides every day on his course,
Over his saddle rises the Sun,
Through bridle – the Moon, shining one,
On reins – brightly sharp radiance,
Morning Star’s it’s an elegant dance.
Спрогис 300

Sun was scolding, at daylight,
Moon, not shining fairly bright.
Moon did answer: “That’s my plight:
Yours is day, and mine is night”.
Спрогис 311

Sun reprimands her own kids,
From zenith looking to the Earth,
They didn’t earn their own quids,
They didn’t do the home chores.
Спрогис 313

Luck has many tiny keys,
On her waist, on cedar band,
Listen to my pious pleas,
Give me magic key in hand.
Вольтер 134

I’ve planted creeping rose gold,
It grew up high to shining sky,
I climbed the stalk, which rose bold,
In blue wide sky, god’s son I spy,
Who saddles up his horse the calm,
– Good day, good day, oh, son of god,
Have seen you my beloved pop and mom?
– I’ve seen them far abroad,
In spacious coves, past wide green bay,
They drink and feast at wedding gay.
Вольтер 370

The garden big does face the wild,
And scary wide expense,
Where wolfs do dance,
Each Nature’s child,
Whomever want they – grub and drag past fence.
You can not hide and find defence,
Unless you call their maiden queen:
– Oh, savior girl, oh, child of mine,
Do tell them quit, let them resign!
She heard the plea, she looked at scene:
– Hey, Wolf the Gray, hold tight your prey!
– Hey, Wolf the Brown, don’t ease your frown!
Поэзия Крестьянских Праздников 479

Father’s Perkon’s
Nine mighty sons:
Three rumble, three blow,
Three lightnings throw.
Спрогис 316

– Father Perkon,
Are your daughters gone?
– They my course retain,
Sowing a heavy rain.
Латышские дайны 231

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