Page:Bohemian legends and other poems.djvu/161



Tell me, granny, granny dearest, what will heal a wound,
 * Heal the cut of one sore wounded, that he will not die?”

Open wounds on human bodies are not easily closed,
 * Only the juice of witches’ herb heals beneath the sky.”

Tell me, granny, granny dearest, what will ease the pain,
 * Heal the pain of one sore tortured, wounds on head and brow?”

For such wounds on brow and forehead, there is but one aid,
 * Leaves of the forest strawberry, laid on aching brow.

The little child in haste went to the neighbor’s pasture, Oh, give me of thy juice, witches’ herb, that heals all pain.” Then from the meadow to the forest’s shade she wandered, Oh, strawberry of God, give me of thy leaves that heal all pain.” All that she wanted, see, the flowers gave her gladly,
 * And to the church she ran, where Christ before the altar,

Outstretched upon the cross of shame, bows his dying head. On Thy holy side, Jesus mine, I will not falter, But lay the healing herbs on Thy side and bloody brow,
 * Then all the pain will cease from Thy side and wounded brow.