Page:Tyrolean Elegies (c 1932).pdf/15



But, old moon, you know these women, Know them through and through, Know what troubles man has with them, What is best to do

Many farewells you've witnessed, In your secret way, Bitterness of parting moments You can best portray.

Mother, sister, wife and daughter, Zdenka, little tot, Stood about, all softly weeping, O’er my bitter lot.

Though I am a seasoned cossack, Tried in many frays, Something gripped my chest that moment, Something dimmed my gaze.

So I pulled my fur cap downward Simulating cheer Lest the gendarmes should discover In my eyes a tear.

For the gendarmes, near the doorway, Stood as guard, erect, That the parting scene might have An imperial effect.

Blares the bugle wheels are rattling Toward Iglau we ride, To prevent our losing something Gendarmes trot beside.

On the hill, the Borov Chapel Stands alone and sad, Looking at me through the forests: “Is it you, my lad?