Folk Songs

nang...@mail.usyd.edu.au

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Apr 24, 1997, 3:00:00 AM4/24/97

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Dear Makedoners

Here are some folksongs, for your reading pleasure. I have chosen
some "tragic" ones - I hope they don't depress you! Translations are
provided for non-Macedonian speakers (I hope they can in some small
way convey the beauty of these songs).

BOLEN LEZHI MLAD STOJAN

Bolen lezhi mlad Stojan,
Bolen lezhi i kje umre.
Nad Glava mu mladata nevesta,
s' mashko dete na race.

Stojan se podrazbudi,
Na Nevena i veli:
Oj nevesto ti mlada nevesto,
Shto mi ladi licevo?
Dali sitna rosa podrosuva,
il' se silni dozhdovi?

A Nevena mu veli:
Stojane bre Stopane,
Nitu sita rosa podrusuva,
Nit' se silni dozhdovi
Mojte solzi po lice ti kapat,
Od selanski nepravdini.

Sinokja kraj cheshmata,
Selani se zbiraa.
Zbor zborea koga ti kje umresh,
Dete da mi zadavat.
Mene mlada daleky odnesat,
Za pari me prodadat.

Young Stojan Lies Ill

Young Stojan lies ill
He lies ill and he will die
By his side stands his young wife,
With a young boy in her arms.
Her tears are falling
onto Stojan's face.

Stojan awakens,
And to Nevena he says:
O bride my young bride,
What cools my face?
Is there a light rain falling,
Or is it pouring down?

And Nevena replies:
Stojan O, dear master
It is not a light rain falling
Nor is it pouring down
It is my tears that fall on your face
Tears of peasant injustices.

Last night by the fountain
The villagers had gathered.
The word was about that you would die soon,
They plan to drown my child.
They will take me far away
And for money they will sell me.

Sestra Brata Moli Na Vechera

Sestra brata moli na vechera,
Ajde ajde brate da vecherame. } x2
Vecherajte sestro ne cekajteme,
Jas sum bilo sestro u meana. } x2

Jalo pilo sestro sum se opilo,
Golem zulum sestro sum naprailo. }x2
Sum zaklalo sestro eden na majka,
Sega oni barat krvninata. } x2

Ajde, ajde brate da vecherame,
Za krvnina brate kolaj biva. } x2
Sestra ima brate devet sina,
Edno sine majka kje prezhali. } x2

Celnokj sedi majka solzi roni,
Koe sine majka da prezhali. } x2
Prezhalila majka najmaloto,
Najmaloto majka najubavoto. } x2

The Sister Invites Her Brother to Dinner

The sister invites her brother to dinner,
Come O, Brother let us dine.
Dine, dear Sister do not wait for me.
I have been dear Sister at the inn.

I have drank so, that I am drunk,
A great tragedy I have caused.
I have killed O Sister a mother's only son,
And now they look for the payment in blood.

Come dear Brother let us dine,
Let the blood-payment be not your concern.
Your sister, dear Brother, has nine sons,
A mother will learn to grieve for one.

All night tears stream from her face,
Which son will the mother grieve for.
The mother grieved for the youngest,
The youngest, dear mother, the most beautiful.

Poslushajte Patrioti

Poslushajte patrioti
Da vi kazham slovoto,
Na Gjurgjovden bev zatvoren,
V' crni, temni zandani.
Vo zandani bev predaden,
Od prokleti shpioni,
Od prokletite shpioni,
I nerazbrani trgovci.

Vo zandani bev izmachen,
Nitu voda, nitu leb,
Teloto mi potemnelo.
Dolga riza do zemja.
Ah nemojte ne machejte,
Jas sum nevin kako cvet,
Sum se borel za sloboda,
Za chovechki pravdini.

Ah da znae mojta majka
Grobot da mi iskopa,
Grobot da mi go iskopa,
Sprema jasnoto sonce.
I na grobot da napishe,
Tuk' pochiva machenik,
Tuk' pochiva Aleksandrov, } x2
Karagjule Ohridski. }

Hearken Patriots

Hearken patriots
Let me tell you the word
On St. George's Day I was imprisoned
In the dark black dungeons.
To the dungeons I was betrayed
By those accursed spies
Those accursed spies
And those misguided merchants.

In the dungeons I was tortured
Neither water, nor bread
My very body darkened
A long ...* to the ground.
Oh do not torture me
I am innocent as the flower
I have fought only for freedom
For the rights of human beings.

Oh if only my mother knew
To exhume me from my grave,
To exhume me from my grave
And re-inter me facing the clear sun.
And upon my grave to inscribe:
Here lies a tortured soul
Here lies Aleksandrov
The Black musketeer# of Ohrid.

* I haven't been able to find the meaning of the word "riza".
# I know "kara" means "black" in Turkish, and in my dictionary
"gjule" is defined as "cannon-ball" or "bullet", but I thought black
musketeer would sound better than the Black Bullet.

In any case the translations are reasonably free in many places,
although overall they follow the originals closely.

The translations (albeit hasty and unprofessional) are my own work,
so I would appreciate any Makedoner who might have the intention of
using them to contact me first.

For those of you might think that the "peasant injustices" as talked
about in the song are distant and unreal, let me relate the story of
my uncle. His mother died giving birth to him (this was about 1946,
not too long ago). My grandfather was thus left with four young
children with no one to look after them. He planned to bury the
new-born boy with his mother. Luckily a childless couple in another
village adopted him and he was spared this fate.

This might appear barbaric, but at that time it was a realistic
option for a man who had no extended family to look after the child
and could not tend to it himself if he was to feed his other
children. It would have been infanticide, but can almost be seen as a
form of "peasant abortion" (In Australian law today "economic
reasons" are one of the justifications for abortion).

Another one of the many injustices of peasant life.... (although at
least this one had a happy ending - my uncle's family moved to the
city where he went on to receive a good education and became a
teacher, while his peasant brothers had to migrate to foreign lands
[which is why I write to you from Sydney and not Kumanovo]. When he
grew up he was told about his other family, and they all lived
happily ever after, with my uncle loving both his families).

Regards

Novica.

Aleksandar Mitreski

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Apr 24, 1997, 3:00:00 AM4/24/97

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Dear Novica, pishuvash deka ne si vo moznost da najdesh prevod na zborot
"riza", kolku shto mi e mene poznato, vo Ohridskiot kraj, znachenjeto na
zborot RIZA e PESHKIR ili najobichna KRPA. Ete jas to ago imam naucheno dur
odev kaj baba mi na selo, Zlesti, OHridsko...:)))

Kosta Krajcev

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Apr 24, 1997, 3:00:00 AM4/24/97

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At 04:18 PM 4/24/97 -0400, you wrote:
>Dear Novica, pishuvash deka ne si vo moznost da najdesh prevod na zborot
>"riza", kolku shto mi e mene poznato, vo Ohridskiot kraj, znachenjeto na
>zborot RIZA e PESHKIR ili najobichna KRPA. Ete jas to ago imam naucheno dur
>odev kaj baba mi na selo, Zlesti, OHridsko...:)))
>

I
>
>
>
Interesno i nie vo Gevgelija go imame istiot zbor
RIZA sto znaci PESHKIR.
No vo ovoj sluchaj vo ovaa pesna RIZA
znachi KOSHULA(SHIRT).

Jas ne bi go prevel Karagjule zosto toa e nadimok
ili prezime.

Pozdrav,

Kosta

Gali...@aol.com

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Apr 25, 1997, 3:00:00 AM4/25/97

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riza may be "root"

Goce Naumoski

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Apr 25, 1997, 3:00:00 AM4/25/97

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Novica,

1.) Poslednite redovi od pesnata "Poslushajte patrioti"
...

Tuk' pochiva machenik,
Tuk' pochiva Aleksandrov, } x2
Karagjule Ohridski.

treba da bidat:

Tuk' pochiva machenik,
Tuk' pochiva Aleksandar, } x2
Karagjule Ohridski.

Zborot "Karagjule" znachi "crn (black)" i "topka, kugla (bullet)",
no vo ovoj sluchaj toa e prezime na familija, na poznatite
Karagjulevci od Ohrid.

Znachi
Here lies Aleksandar
Karagjule of Ohrid.

2.) Zborot "riza" znachi "krpa", "peshkir", kako shto vekje
rekoa nekoi. No, vo zborovite od pesnata

Teloto mi potemnelo.
Dolga riza do zemja.

znachi nametka, zatvorska obleka koja zatoa shto najverojatno so
godini ne bila isprana stanata e crna i iskinata, pa razdolzhena
do zemja, kako mantija na pop (dali znaesh za 'Crnorizec Hrabar',
na primer, ovde isto taka se sretnuva zborot 'riza', "crna riza").

Pozdrav,
Goce.

Hope Aldrich

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Apr 25, 1997, 3:00:00 AM4/25/97

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Zdravo,

<<Dolga riza do zemja.>>

Long garment gown -- surplice to the ground.

Btw, po srbski riza je oriz po nashe.
Pozdrav,
Hope
Chestito Velivden na site tuva.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Hope Aldrich
CTS/Cataloging Dept.
SUNY Buffalo

Hope Aldrich

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Apr 27, 1997, 3:00:00 AM4/27/97

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Zdravo,
Pesmata za "Black Musketeer" je pesna za chetnik. Ova mi dojde na umot
posedne od ko imav pisheno za riza. Vuiko na majka beshe chetnik i ova
pessmata moshishe de beshe za vuiko. Ali moshit da beshe za drugi chetnik.
Shto imat veleno vo pesmata, mu stana na Vuiko. I sedne beshe hung vo
seloto na Baba. I Baba nemojishe de go zemit od kaj beshe kladen de
umrit ali de kazit koj beshe vuiko (naj malito brat) Vo noshot dojdele
drugi chetnitsi dego zemat vuiko i de go dojsat doma vo Carev Dvor.

Pozdrav,
Hope

Galina

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Apr 28, 1997, 3:00:00 AM4/28/97

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nang...@mail.usyd.edu.au wrote:
>
> Dear Makedoners
>
> Here are some folksongs, for your reading pleasure. I have chosen

> some "tragic" ones - I hope they don't depress you! Novica.

and this verse:

Ah da znae mojta majka
Grobot da mi iskopa,
Grobot da mi go iskopa,
Sprema jasnoto sonce.
I na grobot da napishe,
Tuk' pochiva machenik,
Tuk' pochiva Aleksandrov, } x2
Karagjule Ohridski. }

I was just reading the book by Nikolas Gage about his mother, Eleni, the
last couple of days, horrified as that book can make anyone, of what man
can do to man, especially considering the concept of committing fresh
atrocities to cover up bad decisions made in committing previous
atrocities. And, of course, like many here, I have been thinking about
the words to this song that Novica put here in Makedon. There have been
several explanations of what karadjule might have meant, form the actual
words to being a surname but when I first read this poem, I thought,
from the sound, it was like a nickname, and I came to this feeling once
again while reading the book Eleni. He is talking on page 421 of a
woman he interviewed for the book, Athena Haramopoulos, about the coming
into Albania of some of the few last remaining villagers from the selo
Lia inclusing the sister of Nicholas Gage. Athena is cursing in memory
at the guerillas upon arrival because the guerillas had promised good
food to the villagers making the journey over the mountains.:

"One leek to a family!..I asked Elias Poulos, 'Where are the boiling
pots of food you promised us? What am I going to feed my babies.' As
he walked away, Poulos replied, 'You're lucky your're alive, woman!' I
cursed him, 'May a black bullet find you!' and it did before another
year was out."

So I think this an ordinary Balkan expression, and Alexandrov is himself
the karadjule, the Blackbullet of the Balkans.

Galina