Page:An Anthology of Modern Bohemian Poetry.pdf/94

 

Haunt the dim mist of decay, uttering cries of lament.
Uttering cries of lament that Fortune relentless continues,
Letting their grandsons' blood either decay or be changed;
Coldly in sooth would beat the heart of a man for his nation,
If he would shed no tears here, even as o'er his love's bones.
Ah, but be silent, O grief, serenely beholding the future,
Scatter with eye like the sun thoughts that arose in a cloud.
Greatest of evils it is, in misfortune to wrangle with evil,
He who assuages by deeds anger of heaven does best.
Not from a troubled eye springs hope, but from hands that are active,
Thus, and thus only, can now evil be turned into good.
Only the man but not mankind can stray on the journey,
Oft the confusion of some favours the rest as a whole.
Time changes all, and by time is truth to victory guided,
What in their error the years planned in a day is o'erthrown.

"The Daughter of Sláva" (1824).