Banović Strahinja
(Croatian version)

Serbocroatian English
Pije vino Banović Strahinja
U Jugovcu, gradu bijelome,
U svog tasta Jugović-Bogdana
S devet šura, devet Jugovića,
Dan po danak tri nedjelje dana.
Kad je prošlo tri nedjelje dana,
Eto banu b’jela knjiga dodje
Od gospodje stare majke svoje,
Ta mu knjiga teško ružno kaže,
Da ga kune mila majka svoja:
»O moj sine, Banović Strahinja!
U zô čas si pošo u Jugovac,
U gore se tamo okasnio,
Još u gore hladno Vince pio,
Na grdne ti rane udarilo!
Ali ne znaš, što se je zgodilo
Na tanahnoj b’jeloj kuli našoj?
Turčin dodje silan Blagajlija,
Pogazi ti l’jepu banovinu,
Porobi ti bjele dvore tvoje,
Odvede ti konje i volove,
Zaijeni ti ovce svekolike,
Iznese ti svekoliko blago,
Odvede ti ljubu Andjeliju,
Mene tvoju potisnuo majku,
Dobrijem me konjem pogazio.«
Kada bane b’jelu knjigu primi,
Knjigu štije jutrom na uranku.
Kad on vidi, što mu knjiga kaže,
Vas se bane on preobrazio,
A nemilo čelo namrdio,
A ponisko brke objesio.
Kod njega se ne namjeri niko
Nego starac Jugović-Bogdane.
Pa na njega Bogdan pogledjuje,
Pa je Bogdan njemu besjedio:
»Bog mi s tobom, zete, dobro moje!
Što je tebi jutros na uranku,
Ter se jesi vas preobrazio,
Tako kruto čelo namrdio,
A ponisko brke objesio?
Ali si se teško naljutio,
A na devet vjern’jeh šura tvoj’jeh
Jugovića, devet sina moj’jeh,
Da te n’jesu dobro poštovali?«
Odgovara Banović Strahinja:
»O moj taste, Jug-Bogdane stari!
Kad me pitaš, da ti pravo kažem,
Što sam jutros teško neveselo,
Da ti kažem po istini pravo:
Ja se n’jesam teško rasrdio,
A na devet vjernijeh šura moj’jeh
Jugovića, devet sina tvoj’jeh,
N’jesam zato čela namrdio,
Ni ponisko brke objesio,
Neg mi majka b’jelu knjigu šalje,
Ta ini knjiga teško grdno kaže,
Da je moja kula porobljena,
A iz kule izneseno blago,
Zaijenjeni konji i volovi,
I bijele sa planina ovce,
Odvedona Andje ljubi moja,
Majka moja konjem pogažena.
Neg moj taste Jugović-Bogdane!
Da mi dadeš devet sina tvoj’jeh,
Sina tvoj’jeh, devet šura moj’jeh,
Da idemo potražit Turčina,
Da povratim blago i ljubovcu,
Da pregledam staru majku moju!«
Kad ga čuje Jugović-Bogdana
Planu Juže ko i oganj živi,
Reče Juže banu Strahiniću:
»Znadeš, zete, ne znali te ljudi!
Kad vlahinja obljubi Turčina,
Voli njemu više nego tebi.
Ti ne hodi tražiti Turčina,
Moju djecu tamo ne zazivaj,
Jer ti ne dam sina nijednoga,
Da ih Turci s’jeku po planini,
Da ih jedu orli i gavrani,
Lisičine, medjedi i vuci.
Ako ti je kula porobljena,
Ja ću tebi kulu sagraditi
Pokraj moje, i moja kako je.
Što je tebi izneseno blago,
Ja ću navrć namet na vilajet,
Silno ću ti nakupiti blago.
Što ti staru potiskoše majku
I dobrijern konjem pogaziše:
Stara bila, brzo bi umrla.«
Kad to čuje Banović Strahinja,
Plane bane ka i vatra živa,
Pa govori Jugović-Bogdanu:
»O moj taste, Jugović-Bogdane!
Što bi meni kulu sagradio
Ukraj tebe kako i u tebe,
U nju silno blago nakupio
I namete namet na vilajet,
Ta se kula ne bi moja zvala.
Nego tasta Jugović-Bogdana.
Što bi u nju nakupio blago,
To se ne bi moje blago zvalo,
Neg žalosne suze siromaške,
Gdje kapaju, ploču prokopaju,
Gdje dolaze, svako zlo donose.
Joh ti ga se meni po drugomu.
Teško bonu, što mu drugi dadu,
Meni tužnu, kad ja doma nemam!«
To izreče i na noge skače,
I govori Banović Strahinja:
»Ostan’ s Bogom, taste, dobro moje!
A ja odoh tražit blago moje,
Oli natrag uzvrnuti blago
I ljubovou Andjeliju mladu,
Oli tamo usijati glavu.«
To izreče, niz kulu pobježe.
Kad izadje pod kulu bijelu,
Nadje svoga u podrumu konja.
Iz podruma konja izvadio,
Pa se konju u ramena baca.
Udari ga niz rosne livade,
Za sobom se obazire bane,
Ne bi li se šure presjetili,
Da bi za njim u poćeru došli.
To za banom nikoga ne ima.
Spomenu se Strabiniću bane
O nekakva hrta Karamana,
Gleda bane, kad ni njega nema,
Pa zaviče Strahiniću bane:
»Gdje si meni, malo vižle moje!
I ti si me danas ostavio,
Kamo si se bolan zabavio?«
Pa zazvižde, što mu grlo dava.
Čuo ga je hrte Karamane
U tastovu dvoru bijelome,
Pa izleče kuli niz skaline,
Za njim trče niz rosne livade.
Kako trče hrte Karamane,
Sobom guli djetelinu travu.
Kad dostignu svoga gospodara,
Oko konja u visinu skače,
Veseli se gospodaru svome.
Otole se zdravo podigoše,
Ban na konju, a hrt na nogama,
Pravo bane b’jelu dvoru podje.
Kadar bane pred dvor b’jeli dodje,
To mu dvori ognjem sagorjeni,
A pred dvorom ostarjela majka,
Cvili jadna ka i zmija ljuta.
Kad je bane ugledao majku,
Božiju joj pomoć nazivao:
»Bog na pomoć, mila moja majko!«
Al mu stara jedva izgovara:
»Dobar došo, jadno d’jete moje!
U zô čas si u pohode pošo,
S tvoj’jem šuram ispijati vino.«
Govori joj Strahiniću bane:
»Mȍš li znati, mila moja majko!
Je l’ se Turčin puno odmaknuo,
Bi li njega dostignuti mogo?«
Govori mu mila majka svoja:
»O moj sinko, Strahiniću bane!
Daleko se Turčin odmaknuo.
Ak’ ne bude, sinko, konakovo
U planini, u gori zelenoj,
Nego bude Ture putovalo,
Bog će dati, vidiš li ga veče!«
A kad čuje Banović Strahinja,
Svoju staru pokr’jepio majku
I majci je svojoj govorio:
»Ostan’ s Bogom, mila moja majko!
Ja ću poći potražit Turčina,
Pa štogodj mi Bog i sreća dade.«
Otole se Opremio bane,
Pravo zdravo u terzije mlade,
Pa kupuje djendjili od’jelo,
Kako nose Sarajlije mladi,
Sarajlije veliki trgovci,
Pa se konju u ramena baci,
Ode bane zelenom goricom.
Kad je bio visokom planinom,
Vidi bane čobanice mlade,
Božiju im pomoć nazivao:
»Bog na pomoć, čobanice mlade!
Kaž’te pravo, tako bile zdravo!
Je li ovud kogod prolazio,
Je li kakva pl’jena provodio?«
Govore mu čobanice mlade:
»Zdravo bio, neznana delijo!
Kad nas pitaš, da pravo kažemo:
Ovud prodje Turčin Blagajlija,
Goni silno roblje’i plijena,
Uz Turčina tanka Latinkinja,
Za glavom joj kita od bisera,
Na obrazu zlatajli mahrama,
Sve bi r’jeti, nije se zakleti,
Da je ona Latinkinja tanka,
Ljuba draga Strahinića bana.«
A govori Strahiniću bane:
»Bogom sestre, čobanice mlade!
Što se čini u srcu vašemu,
Bi li mogo dostignuti Turke?«
Govore mu čobanice mlade:
»A počuj nas, mladi Sarajlija!
Ti ćeš moći dostignuti Turke.
Jorbo ti je Ture počinulo
Tamo dalje na vodi studenoj.«
Kad to čuje Strahiniću bane,
Maše ruke u džep od dolame
I povadi dvanaest dukata,
I dariva čobanice mlade:
»Na vam ovo, lijepe djevojke!
Da kupite svile za veziva.
Ako Bog da, da se zdravo vratim,
I bolje bih ja vas darovao.«
Otole se bane otisnuo,
Bije konja zelenom goricom.
Tako bane malo naprijeda,
Dok ugleda pod jelom zelenom
Dobr’jeh druga pedeset Turaka,
Gdje posjeli jelom pod zelenom.
Turci jedu hljeba bijeloga
I debela mesa ovnujskoga,
Pripijaju vinca i rakije.
Kad ih vidje Strahiniću bane,
Stane mislit, što bi učinio,
Pa niz obraz suze oborio,
U to jele pod zelene dodje.
Selam im je turski udario,
Bolje su mu Turci usprimili:
»Zdravo bio, mladi Sarajlija!
Što ti cviliš i suze prol’jevaš?«
Govori im Banović Strahinja:
»Prodjite se, Turci, braćo moja!
Evo mi je cviliti nevolja,
Ja sam imo mila kuma moga,
Kuma moga Turčin-Blagajliju,
Eto meni jadan glas dOpane,
Da se meni kume pobolio,
Bog sam znade, je li u životu?
Bit će meni kume preminuo.«
Govore mu pedeset Turaka:
»Lud nijesi, momče Sarajlija!
Što ti cviliš i suze prol’jevaš.
Tako žališ mila kuma tvoga,
Kad ti kume nije preminuo,
Niti ti se kume pobolio;
Evo ti ga na vodi studenoj,
Pod njegov’jem svilen’jem šatorom,
Ukraj njega banica gospodja,
Ljubi draga Banović-Strahinje.
Neg osjedi vrana konja tvoga,
Sjedi ovdje, da mi blagujemo.«
Kad to čuje Banović Strahinja,
Skoči bane sa konja na trave,
Sjede bane jele pod zelene,
Stade s Turcim blagovati bane
I sam sobom Bogu zahvaljuje:
»Bože mili, na svemu ti hvala!
Kad s’ i ovdje moga truda nadje,
U planini, u gori zelenoj.«
Kad se Turci teško izopiše,
Pust’jem vincem Banović-Strahinje
I njegovom žeženom rakijom,
Povale se travi po zelenoj,
Da će Turci počivat malašno.
Al ne spava Banović Strahinja,
Neg povadi okovanu ćordu,
Sjeće bane ispod jele Turke.
Kada ih je svijeh pogubio,
On se meće konju na ramena,
Goni konja na vodu studenu
Do šatora Turčin-Blagajlije.
To ti Ture tihi sanak spava,
(Jer je taki u Turaka adet)
Na skutašću Andjelije mlade,
Drži njemu na skutašću glave,
Ona njemu tvrde čuva straže.
Kad vidjela svoga gospodara,
Ispod desne ruke pogledjuje
I pogleda na mlada junaka,
Dobro pozna Banović-Strahinju
I pod njime debela dorina.
I za njime hrta Karamana
I banova oba mrka brka.
Bolje budi silna Blagajliju:
»Ustani se, zo sanak zaspao!
Evo ovud Strahinića bana,
Kako se je kurvić preobuko!
Oli misli, da ga ne poznadem?
Poznam dobro, vjera moja mu je.«
Govori joj silan Blagajlija:
»Muči, Andje, na čudo udrila!
Teško li te uplašio bane?
Kad ti sa mnom mojoj zemlji dodješ
I amo ćeš bojati se njega.«
A kad čula Andjelija mlada,
Uz obraz ga rukom udarila.
»Ustani se, jer ćeš poginuti!
I prepaši bukagli pojasa,
I prepaši svijetlo oružje.«
Kad to čuje silen Blagajlija,
Skoči Ture ko da se pomami.
I prepaše bukagli pojasa,
Oko sebe oružje svijetlo,
A niz bedro okovanu ćordu,
I u ruku koplje ubojito,
Pa prehvati za dizgin kobilu.
Pa se njojzi u ramena baca,
Nosi bojno koplje na ramenu,
A na bana udari kobilu.
Još ne pozna Strahinića bana,
Neg govori Andjeliji mladoj:
»Andje mlada, na čudo udrila!
Gdje ti vidje Strahinića bana,
Da pogubim pravedna junaka?
Ovo nije Strahiniću bane,
Već ovo je mladi Sarajlija.«
Al govori tanka Andjelija:
»Ostavi se, jadan gospodare!
To je bane, tri ga jada bila!
Poznam dobro starog gospodara,
Dobro poznam čelo, kakvo mu je,
Podno čela vučije obrve,
I poznam mu oba mrka brka
I njegova konja od mogdana
I njegova hrta Karamana.
Udri kopljem, dok ti je na vr’jeme.«
Kad to čuje silen Blagajlija,
Nagonio na bana kobilu,
Svoje koplje bojno položio.
Da ko vidi Strahinića bana,
Pod njim vilu konja od megdana,
Kako gleda silna Blagajliju,
Kad će koplje ispuštit iz ruke,
Tad trbusim o tle udario,
A na zadnje ključe pokleknuo,
Preko njega koplje prelečelo,
Dočeko ga Strahiniću bane.
Desnom ga je rukom prehvatio,
Lomi mu ga na dvoje, na troje,
Pa ga baca na zelene trave.
Pa povadi bojno koplje svoje,
Na Turčina koplje položio,
Pod Turčinom vita bedevija,
Ona bila stara megdandžija,
Svakome se boju priučila,
Položi se travi po zelenoj,
A on Ture njojzi po sedlaou,
Iza njega koplje nalećelo,
A Turčin se junak nagodio,
Bojno mu je koplje pričekao.
U desnu ga ruku prehitio,
Izlomi ga u dvoje, u troje,
Pa ga baca u trave zelene.
Tada svoje razigraše konje,
Britke svoje povadiše ćorde,
Britkijem se ćordam udariše
I Turčin se junak nagodio,
Obe dvije ulomiše ćorde
Do balčaka i do desne ruke.
Dobri konji prsim se udrili,
A junaci pod ruke hvatili,
Pa se nose u gori zelenoj
Oko vode tamo i ovamo,
Rvali se četiri sahata,
Da se ne zna, čij će megdan biti.
A kad prošla četiri sahata
Ban Strahinja pjenom zapjenio,
On mi bane b’jele pjene baca,
A on Ture b’jele i krvave;
A kad bane bjele i krvave,
Turčin baca modre i krvave.
Turčinu se dodijalo bilo,
Pa poviknu glasovito tanko:
»Gdje si Andje, Strahinića ljubo!
Evo sam se teško umorio,
Pomoz’ meni oli gospodaru,
Da me prije pogubiti može.«
A kad čula Andjelija mlada,
Bolje skače na noge lagahne
I pošeta malo naprijeda,
Polu britke uzimala ćorde,
Uvija je svilen’jem jaglukom,
Da bijele ne nagrdi ruke,
Pa evo je k dva dobra junaka.
Uvija se okolo junaka,
Ne udara, da od Boga nadje!
Ne udara silna Blagajliju,
Nego bana svoga gospodara,
Udari ga po desnu ramenu,
Nagrdi mu u ramenu ruku.
A zaviče Strahiniču bane:
»Andje moja, da od Boga nadješ!
Ali si se jadna prepoznala,
Ne udaraš silna Blagajliju,
Nego bana tvoga gospodara?«
Za to kučka ništa ne hajala,
Po drugi ga put je udarala
Preko čela Banović-Strahinje,
Grdnu mu je ranu napravila,
Niz oči ga crna krv polila.
Viče bane glasovito tanko
I dozivlje hrta Karainana:
»A gdje si mi, hrte brez biljega!
Brani danas gospodara svoga,
A od Andje nesretne gospodje.«
Kad Karaman čuje gospodara,
Kako leti travom djetelinom,
Na Andjušu juriš učinio,
Nogama joj na prsi skočio;
Bio bi joj grlo prekosio,
Da mu nije gospodjica bila.
Neg je drži gospodaru svome.
A on jadan Strahiniću bane
Velikome Bogu zavapio.
Zapre bane i desnom i l’jevom,
Kleče Ture na trave zelene,
A bane mu žedan krvi bio,
Koljenim mu na prsi skočio,
Na njemu je malo počinuo,
Pa povadi noža iza pasa,
Kolje vraga ispod bjela vrata.
Kad vidjela Andjelija mlada,
Bježat stala zelene u gore,
Dozivlje je Banović Strahinja:
»Vrat’ se, Andje, draga ljubi moja!
Evo tebi tvrda vjera moja,
Da ti ne ću učiniti ništa,
Pomozi mi natovarit blago.«
Kad to čula Andjelija mlada,
Ona se je natrag povmula,
Pomože mu natovarit blago.
Goni blago Strahiniću bane
Pravo svomu dvoru bijelome.
Kad je bio zelenom goricom,
Nadje bane čobanice mlade,
Gdje bijele zauzbija ovce,
Uhvati je za bijele ruke,
Odvede je goricom zelenom
Zdravo svomu dvoru izgorjenu.
Tu je bane ostavio blaga.
A uz blago staru svoju majku
I uza nju čobanicu mladu,
I govori Strahiniću bane:
»Gledaj blago, draga dušo moja!
A i moju ostarjelu majku;
Dok se vratim zdravo od ovamo,
Ne ćeš više zauzbijat ovce.«
Bane podje Jugovou b’jelome.
Vodi sobom Andjeliju mladu.
Vezana mu u ramenu ruka,
A junačko u mahrami čelo.
Gleda bana stari Jug-Bogdane,
Gledaju ga devet Jugovića
I ovako oni govorahu:
»Evo ovud Strahinića bana,
Ljuto su ga Tur’ci nagrdili,
Vezana mu u mahraini glava,
A bijela u ramenu ruka.«
Tad izadje devet Jugovića
I pred njima Jug-Bogdane stari.
Kad vidjeli Banović-Strahinju,
Tad se s njime podrugivat stali.
Reče prvi Jug-Bogdane stari:
»Nu ti bana, mila zeta moga,
Kako su ga nagrdili Turci!«
A govori Strahiniću bane:
»O moj taste, Jug-Bogdane stari!
N’jesu mene nagrdili Turci,
Nego pitaj Andjeliju mladu,
Ko j’ ovako nagrdio mene?«
Tad govori Jug-Bogdane stari:
»Andjelijo, moja šćeri draga!«
Devet braće: »Naša sestro draga!
Ko obrani tvoga gospodara?«
Andjelija mlada odgovara:
»Čuj me, babo, Jug-Bogdaue stari,
I sve devet mile braće moje!
Ko obrani moga gospodara,
Usahla mu i desna i l’jeva,
Kada bolje udarila nije!«
Kad to čuje Jug-Bogdane stari.
Pa zaviče, što mu grlo dava:
»Na noge se, devet djeti moje!
Povadite devet jatagana,
Kučku sestru vašu is’jecite.«
Al ne dade Banović-Strahinja.
Da je tako s’jeku na komade.
A kad vidi najstariji brate,
Udari je nožem jataganom,
Rusu joj je glavu odsjekao,
Pa je nosi na, svijetlu sopru
I govori Jugoviću Božo:
»Ne bi danas objedovo s mirom,
Kad joj ne bih ja glavu vidio,
Mrtvu glavu na sopri svijetloj.«
Tada podje Strahiniću bane,
Podje bane iz b’jela Jugovca,
I otiđe dvoru izgorjenu,
Oženi se mladom čobanicom
I ogradi b’jele dvore svoje.
Za malahno vr’jeme postojalo,
Strahiniću preminula majka,
Bane svoje žalovao majke,
Miluje se s vjenčanom ljubovcom.
Banović Strahinja drinks wine
in Jugovac, the white city,
at his father-in-law Jugović-Bogdan
with nine brothers-in-law, the nine Jugovićes,
day after day for three weeks.
When had passed three weeks,
lo, to the ban a white letter comes
from the lady, his old mother,
that letter says to him heavily illy,
so that his own dear mother swears at him:
“O my son, Banović Strahinja!
In an evil hour you went to Jugovac,
on the mountain there it grew late,
still on the mountain you drank cold wine,
it has struck you on your ugly wounds!
Do you not know what has happened
at our thin white tower?
The Turk comes, mighty Blagajlija,
tramples your beautiful banate,
captures your white castles,
leads away your horses and oxen,
seizes all of your sheep,
carries off all of your treasure,
leads away your love Andjelija,
me, your mother, he pressed,
with his good horse he trampled me.”
When the Ban receives the white letter,
the letter arrives by morning at daybreak.
When he sees what the letter says to him,
he, the Ban, transformed his face,
and miserably he wrinkled his forehead,
and low he hung his whiskers.
With him no one intends to be
but the elder Jugović-Bogdan.
Then at him Bogdan looks,
Then Bogdan spoke to him:
“God be with you, son-in-law, my good one!
What is with you this morning at daybreak,
that you have transformed your face,
so stiffly wrinkled your forehead,
and low hung your whiskers?
But have you become heavily angry,
at your nine faithful brothers-in-law
the Jugovićes, my nine sons,
that they didn’t respect you well?”
Strahinja Banović answers:
“O my father-in-law, old Jug-Bogdan!
When you ask me, let me directly tell you,
why I am this morning heavily unhappy,
let me tell you truthfully directly:
I did not become heavily wroth
at my nine faithful brothers-in-law
the Jugovićes, your nine sons,
I did not therefore wrinkle my forehead,
nor low hung my whiskers,
but rather my mother sends me a white letter,
that letter says to me heavily harshly,
that my tower is captured,
and from the tower the treasure carried off,
the horses and oxen seized,
and the white sheep from the mountain,
my love Andja led away,
my mother by horses trampled.
But my father-in-law Jugović-Bogdan!
Give me your nine sons,
your sons, my nine sons-in-law,
that we go seek the Turk,
that I return my treasure and love,
that I look over my old mother.”
When Jugović-Bogdan hears him,
up flashes Jug, even like a living flame,
Jug says to Ban Strahinić:
“You know, son-in-law, may people not know you!
When a Vlach woman makes love with a Turk,
she loves him more than you.
Do not go walking to seek the Turk,
do not summon my children there,
for I do not give you even one son,
for the Turks to cut upon the mountain,
for the eagles and ravens to eat,
the foxes, bears, and wolves.
If your tower is captured,
I will build you a tower
next to mine, and mine as it is.
As for the treasure carried off from you,
I will levy a tax on the vilayet,
I will amass mighty treasure for you.
As for pressing your old mother
and with a good horse trampling her:
she was old, she would have died soon.”
When Banović Strahinja heard that,
up flashes the Ban, even like living fire,
then speaks to Jugović-Bogdan:
“O my father-in-law, Jugović-Bogdan!
As for building for me a tower
next to you and as yours is,
gathering in it mighty treasure
and levying a levy on the vilayet,
that tower would not be called mine,
but my father’s-in-law, Jugović-Bogdan’s.
As for gathering in it treasure,
it would not be called my treasure,
but the mournful tears of the poor,
where they drip, they bore through the tile,
where they arrive, they bring every evil.
But you would exchange it with another.
A hard bargain, what others give him,
me, sorrowful, when I have no home!”
This he says and jumps to his feet,
and Banović Strahinja speaks:
“Stay with God, father-in-law, my good one!
But I go to seek my treasure,
either to return back my treasure
and my love, young Andjelija,
or there to [lose] my head.”
This he says, down the tower he flies.
When he exits beneath the white tower,
he finds his horse in the cellar.
From the cellar he removed his horse,
then throws himself on the horse’s shoulders.
He spurs it down the dewy meadow,
the Ban looks about behind himself,
if his brothers-in-law would not change their minds,
to come behind him in departure.
Behind the Ban there is no one.
Strahinić the Ban reminded himself
of his sometime greyhound Karaman,
the Ban looks, when even he does not come,
then Strahinić the Ban calls out:
“Where are you for me, my little viszla!
Even you have left me today,
whither have you painfully gone to amuse yourself?”
Then he whistles as his throat allows.
The greyhound Karaman heard him
in his father-in-law’s white castle,
then flies out the tower down the staircase,
runs behind him down the dewy meadow.
As the greyhound Karaman runs,
with him he strips the clover from the grass.
When he reached his lord,
around the horse he jumps on high,
he rejoices to his lord.
Thence they soundly arose,
the Ban on his horse, and the greyhound on its legs,
directly the Ban departs for his white castle.
When the Ban arrives before his white castle,
there is his castle, burnt by flame,
and before the castle his ageing mother,
whimpering wretchedly like an angry snake.
When the Ban looked over his mother,
he called upon God’s help for her:
“God help you, my dear mother!”
But the old one barely answered him:
“Welcome, miserable son of mine!
In an evil hour you went on the march,
to drink wine with your brothers-in-law.”
Strahinić the Ban spoke to her:
“Would you know, my dear mother!
Has the Turk gone far away,
would I be able to catch up to him?”
His own dear mother speaks to him:
“O my son, Strahinić the Ban!
Far away the Turk has gone.
If he does not, son, stay overnight
on the mountain, on the green height,
but rather the Turk travels,
God will tell, if you will see him again!”
And when Banović Strahinja hears,
he supported his old mother
and to his mother he spoke:
“Stay with God, my dear mother!
I will depart to seek the Turk,
whatever God and luck give me.”
Thence the Ban prepared himself,
directly soundly to the young tailor,
then buys a set of clothing,
such as young Sarajlijas wear,
Sarajlijas, great merchants,
then he throws himself on the horse’s shoulders,
the Ban departs to the green hill.
When he was at the high mountain,
the Ban sees a young shepherdess,
he called upon God’s help for her:
“God help you, young shepherdess!
Tell me directly, thus to be healthy!
Has anyone passed this way,
did he lead any sort of plunder?”
The young shepherdess says to him:
“Hail, unknown hero!
When you ask us, let us directly tell you:
Hither passes the Turk Blagajlija,
bears many slaves and plunder,
beside the Turk a slender Latin woman,
on her head a bouquet of pearls,
on her cheek a golden kerchief,
All would I tell, but I would not swear,
That she was a Latin woman slender,
the dear love of Strahinić the Ban.”
And Strahinić the Ban speaks:
“Sister-in-god, young shepherdess!
What do you think in your heart,
would it be possible to catch up to the Turk?”
The young shepherdess speaks to him:
“But hear us, young Sarajlija!
You will be able to catch up to the Turk,
for the Turk has come to rest
there farther by the cool water.”
When Strahinić the Ban hears this,
he waves his hand in the pocket of his tunic
and takes out twelve ducats,
and gives them to the young shepherdess:
“This for you, beautiful girl!
To buy silks for embroidery.
If God allows that I return healthy,
I would give you even better.”
Thence the Ban departed,
strikes his horse to the green hill.
Thus the Ban goes a little forward,
until he sees beneath a green fir
good friends, fifty Turks,
where they eat a meal beneath the green.
The Turks eat white bread
and fat ram’s meat,
they drink wine and rakia.
When Strahinić the Ban sees them,
he stops to think what he would do,
then down his cheek tumbled tears,
he comes to the fir beneath the green.
‘Selam,’ he said to them in Turkish,
the Turks greeted him better:
“Hail, young Sarajlija!
Why do you whimper and pour forth tears?”
Banović Strahinja says to them:
“Pass, Turks, my brothers!
Lo, I am whimpering of misfortune,
I had a dear godfather,
my godfather Turk-Blagajlija,
lo, I am miserable, losing my voice,
for my godfather fell ill,
only God knows, is he alive?
My godfather will pass away.”
The fifty Turks spoke to him:
“You are not mad, lad Sarajlija!
Why do you whimper and pour forth tears,
thus you water your dear godfather,
when your godfather has not passed away,
nor has your godfather fallen ill;
lo, he is there at the cool water,
beneath his silken tent,
beside him the Baness lady,
the dear love of Banović-Strahinja.
But dismount your raven horse,
sit here, that we may partake.”
When Banović Strahinja hears this,
the Ban jumps from his horse to the grass,
the Ban sits to eat beneath the green,
the Ban stops with the Turks to partake
and to himself he thanks God:
“Dear God, for all thanks to you!
When even here my work is done,
on the mountain, on the green height.”
When the Turks heavily drank their fills,
with much wine of Banović-Strahinja
and his fiery rakia,
they tumbled down upon the green grass,
so the Turks would rest a bit.
But Banović Strahinja does not sleep,
but rather takes out his forged sabre,
the Ban cuts Turks beneath the fir.
When he had killed them all,
he places himself on the horse’s shoulders,
spurs the horse to the cool water
to the tent of Turk-Blagajlija.
That Turk sleeps a quiet dream,
(for such is the habit of Turks)
on the lap of young Andjelija,
she holds his head on her lap,
she keeps a firm watch over him.
When she saw her lord,
she looked beneath her right hand
and looked upon a young hero,
well she recognizes Banović-Strahinja
and beneath him his fat red-black horse,
and behind him his greyhound Karaman
and both the Ban’s dark whiskers.
She wakes the mighty Blagajlija:
“Arise, an evil dream you slept!
Here comes Strahinić the Ban,
how the son of bitch has disguised himself!
Does he think that I don’t recognize him?
I recognize well, my faith is it is he.”
To her speaks the mighty Blagajlija:
“Worry, Andja, on wonder you have struck!
Has the Ban so heavily frightened you?
When you come with me to my land
even there you will fear him.”
But when young Andjelija heard,
with her hand she struck him on the cheek.
“Arise, for you will perish!
And gird on your fetter belt,
and gird on your light weapons.”
When mighty Blagajlija heard this,
the Turk jumps up as if crazed,
and girds on his fetter belt,
around himself his light weapons,
and at his thigh a forged sabre,
and in his hand a killing lance,
then grabs a mare by the reins,
then throws himself on its shoulders,
carries the battle-lance on his shoulders,
and spurs the mare at the Ban.
Still he does not recognize Strahinić the Ban,
but rather says to young Andjelija:
“Young Andja, on wonder you have struck!
Where do you see Strahinić the Ban,
so that I can kill the just hero?
This is not Strahinić the Ban,
but rather this is a young Sarajlija.”
But slender Andjelija speaks:
“Leave off, miserable lord!
That is the ban, may his miseries be threefold!
I recognize well my old lord,
Well I recognize how his forehead is,
beneath his forehead a wolf’s eyebrows,
and I recognize both his dark whiskers
and his horse of battle
and his greyhound Karaman.
Strike with your lance, while you have time.”
When mighty Blagajlija hears this,
he spurred his mare at the Ban,
lowered his battle-lance.
But see Strahinić the Ban,
beneath him a lively horse of battle,
how it looks at the mighty Blagajlija,
when he would release his lance from his hands,
then it struck his belly to the ground,
and at the last moment kneeled,
above it the lance overflew,
Strahinić the Ban awaited it.
With his right hand he grabbed it,
breaks it into two, into three,
then throws it on the green grass.
Then he takes out his own battle-lance,
lowers the lance at the Turk,
beneath the Turk a thin mare,
she was an old tournament horse,
she was accustomed to every battle,
she lies upon the green grass,
and he the Turk on her saddle,
over him the lance flew,
and the Turk dealt with the hero,
he awaited his battle-lance.
In his right hand he caught it,
breaks it into two, into three,
then throws it in the green grass.
Then they made their horses move energetically,
they took out their bright sabres,
with their bright sabres they struck
and the Turk dealt with the hero,
both of their sabres shattered
to the hilt and to the right hand.
They struck their good horses with their chests,
and the heroes grabbed each other beneath the arms,
then carried themselves on the green mountain
around the water there and hither,
they wrestled for four hours,
during which none knew whose the battlefield would be.
But when four hours had passed
Ban Strahinja foamed with foam,
he, the Ban, casts off white foam,
but he, the Turk, white and bloody;
and when the Ban white and bloody,
the Turk casts off blue and bloody.
It wearied the Turk,
so he cried noticeably thinly:
“Where are you, Andja, Strahinić’s love!
Lo, I have heavily tired,
help me or your lord,
so that he can kill me sooner.”
But when young Andjelija heard,
she better jumps up on light legs
and walks a little forward,
she took half of a bright sabre,
wound it in a silk handkerchief,
to not wound her white hands,
then, lo, she is by the two good heroes.
She winds around the heroes,
does not strike, may she find God!
She does not strike mighty Blagajlija,
but the Ban her lord.
She strikes him upon the right shoulder,
wounds him in the shoulder’s arm.
And Strahinić the Ban cries out:
“My Andja, may you find God!
Have you, wretch, recognized,
that you do not strike mighty Blagajlija,
but the Ban your lord?”
For that the bitch cared nothing,
for a second time she struck
over the forehead of Banović-Strahinja,
an ugly wound she made him,
down his eyes black blood spilled.
The Ban cried out noticeably thinly
and summoned his greyhound Karaman:
“And where are you for me, greyhound without mark!
Defend today your lord,
and from Andja the unhappy lady.”
When Karaman hears his lord,
as he flies via grass and clover,
he made a charge an Andjuša,
jumped with his feet on her chest;
he would have torn out her throat,
were she not his lady.
But he holds her from his lord.
And he, miserable Strahinić the Ban,
cried out to great God.
The Ban threatens both right and left,
the Turk kneels on the green grass,
and the Ban was thirsty for his blood,
jumped with his knees on his chest,
upon him he rested a bit,
then takes a knife from his waist,
slaughters his foe beneath his white neck.
When young Andjelija saw,
she tried to flee on the green mountain,
Banović Strahinja summons her:
“Return, Andja, my dear love!
Here is my firm faith for you,
that I will do nothing to you,
help me gather up the treasure.”
When young Andjelija heard this,
she returned back,
helps him gather up the treasure.
Strahinić the Ban drives the treasure
straight to his white castle.
When he was at the green hill,
the Ban finds the young shepherdess,
where she tends the white sheep,
grabs her by her white hand,
leads her from the green hill
healthy to his burnt castle.
There the Ban left the treasure,
and beside the treasure his old mother
and beside her the young shepherdess,
and Strahinić the Ban says:
“See this treasure, my dear soul!
And also my aged mother;
after I return healthy from here,
nevermore will you tend sheep.”
The Ban goes to white Jugovac,
leads with him young Andjelija.
His arm is tied to his shoulder,
and his forehead hero-like in a cloth.
Old Jug Bogdan looks at the Ban,
the nine Jugovićes look at him
and thus they speak:
“Lo, this way comes Strahinić the Ban,
fiercely have the Turks wounded him,
his head is tied in a cloth,
and his white hand to his shoulder.”
Then the nine Jugovićes emerge
and before them old Jug-Bogdan.
When they saw Banović-Strahinja,
then they stopped to socialize with him.
First old Jug-Bogdan said:
“See the Ban, my dear son-in-law,
how the Turks have wounded him!”
But Strahinić the Ban speaks:
“O my father-in-law, old Jug-Bogdan!
The Turks have not wounded me,
but rather ask young Andjelija,
who has wounded me thus?”
Then old Jug-Bogdan speaks:
“Andjelija, my dear daughter!”
The nine brothers: “Our dear daughter!
Who wounded your lord?
Young Andjelija answers:
“Hear me, old one, old Jug-Bogdan,
and all my dear nine brothers!
Who wounded my lord,
she would have withered him both right and left,
if she had but struck better!”
When old Jug-Bogdan hears this,
then he cries, as his throat allowed:
“On your feet, my nine children!
Take out your nine yatagans,
cut apart your bitch sister.”
But Banović-Strahinja did not allow
that they thus cut her into pieces.
But when the oldest brother sees,
he strikes her with his yatagan knife,
he cut off her red head,
then he carries it to a light table
and speaks to Jugović Boža:
“I could not today have lunched in peace,
had I not seen her head,
her dead head on a light table.”
Then Strahinić the Ban departs,
the Ban departs from white Jugovac
and goes to his burnt castle,
marries the young shepherdess
and rebuilds his white castle.
When a short time had passed,
Strahinić’s mother died,
the Ban sorrowed for his mother,
loved with his wedded love.