The Flute

The Flute by Aleksander Stavre Drenova, translated by Robert Elsie

Fyelli, from the volume Psallme Murgu, Bucharest 1930. Translated from the Albanian by Robert Elsie Source

Oh flute, I worship you with faith and longing
For I was raised, the consort of your trill divine

from the time I was a lad,

You poured dew into my soul,
At the height of my joy, my feelings merged

in a tenderness rare.

With you I felt an unslaked sense
Of love for Albanian soil

Which remains day after day in my dreams,

When your sounds, the treasures of the past,
Traverse my mind like a summer's breeze

And with deep ecstasy.

When you speak to me and fill me,
Unending voices echo and swell

In waves like a chorus of angels,

Companions of the peaks, streams and hills,
From your lips flit fairies

As if from some majestic palace.

Like starlight and moonbeams in longing,
Sparkling on the surface of the lake,

I quiver like a lover,

As your words, harbingers of a message
From the Earthly Beauty, with fair tones,

offer us a breath of spring.

Like the season which begins to blossom,
Unfolding its wide wings within our bosom

To give us strength and divine grace,

So do you lend the world a new face

And create around us a joyous choir

When your notes traverse the scales.

With you does the shepherd climb to the mountain pastures
Moved by your magic melodies,

Your every fire melts his heart,

With you do young lads take to the dance,
Thrilled by your sacred songs of love

Welling anew within their breasts.

Like tender leaves quivering in the wind
Which in their rustling strike up a song

In perfect harmony,

Whosoever hears your chant
Recalls forgotten memories

Like a symphony from the heavens.

The farmer bent behind his plough
Or scything ripened sheaves of grain

Knows not why he slaves,

Yet with you all his hardship dissolves
As his thirst abates when he scoops
And drinks the waters of mountain springs.

From ancient times our ancestors
Bore you in their belts, sabres brandished,

Singing their fiery songs

And spreading courage in the thick of battle,
Always were they rewarded for their toil,

As was the legendary Alexander.

With you did the goddess Minerva
While away the hours in delight,

Up on flashing Olympia

And the nymphs around her like tiny stars
In the rhythmic pacing of the dance

Teased jealous Bacchus.

Virgil, master and famed singer
Of ancient times, and Mozart -

With you, they built their sacred altars,

With you do nations dream,
Nourished on lofty ideals

From a healing source.

So many others have followed,
As new tokens of progress,

Which no one on earth can oppose,

To you, poets will always weave hymns,
For with your strength and courage, magic flute,

You soar above them all.

This work is in the public domain in countries where the copyright term is the author's life plus 70 years or less. It is not necessarily in the public domain in the United States if published from 1923 to 1977. For a US-applicable version, check {{PD-1996}} and {{PD-URAA-same-year}} for relevant use.