CZESTMIR AND VLASLAW.
43
From mighty Vlaslaw streams the blood
Along the grass so green,
And flows into the thirsty earth,
Where nought that grows is seen.
The soul from out his bellowing mouth
Flew up into a tree,
From tree to tree, till the corpse was burnt,
It journied fluttering free.[1]
All Vlaslaw’s men are terror-struck,
And sideways thence they fly,
And up the hill, themselves to hide
From Czestmir’s piercing eye,
From Czestmir, who o’er Vlaslaw fierce
Hath won the victory.
Loud sounds the shout of victory
In Neklan’s joyous ear,
To Neklan’s joyous eye doth spoil,
Abundant spoil appear.
- ↑ Compare this with the conclusion of the next poem but one, “Zaboi and Slavoi.”
