Page:An Anthology of Modern Bohemian Poetry.pdf/93

Rh Nation and honour have vanished, the gods have gone with the language,
 * Nature alone doth remain—nature that ne'er can be changed.

Forest, stream, town and village unwilling their titles Slavonic
 * Altered; the form but remains. Spirit of Sláva is gone.

O who will come, these graves from a living dream to awaken?
 * Who will the rightful heir back to his country restore?

Who will tell us the place where Miliduch bled for his nation?
 * Who will a monument raise, keeping his memory fresh?

Where, in his wrath at reform, did Kruk in defence of traditions,
 * Take the command of the Slavs, fighting their cause to uphold?

Or how Bojeslav wielded in contest the sword of a victor,
 * And with statutes in peace guided his happy domain?

Now there are none remaining; the boorish countryman's ploughshare,
 * Crashing destructively on, breaks up the warriors' bones;

Wroth at the worthlessness of two generations, their shadows