The Bloody Sonnets #19

Adaptation of Krvavé sonety.

Welcome to my series of adapting Pavol Országh Hviezdoslav’s The Bloody Sonnets into free-verse. This is the nineteenth of thirty-two sonnets.

Following the adaptation, I invite you to read some reflections on the poem.

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Will blood from the hecatombs,
     blood that overflows rivers
     and spills into valleys
     from endless wounds,
each more painful than fate itself —

centuries of work — wasted,
     the burning of bread-fields,
     this plunder —
will the conscience of those 
     standing on the summit shudder,
or will it become a 
     shadow of a memory?

Will we admit the truth 
     hidden in our heart,
that the plough serves us 
     more than the sword?
Man is not an ant under 
     the sole of the shoe —
there is no honor in battle —
     blood is not water.
Will the sword ever find its sheath?

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The original is in the Slovak language, which was originally written in 1914:

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A či tie hekatomby obetí,
tie rieky krvi v splave po údolí;
ten bezpočet rán, z ktorých každá bolí
viac, než čo osud v zdravie zavätí;

to spustošenie zásluh století;
tie škody na chlebovom ľudstva poli,
plen… všetko vpokon oným na vrcholi
svedomím zachvie, sčernie v pamäti?

I k srdcu pripustia si naučenie,
že nad paloš jest nástroj hotovší,
žľab vybrázdiť, nímž za zdarom zdar ženie;
že človek nie hmyz pod šľap podošví;
že niet cti v bitke, jak krv vodou nenie: —
i naveky meč skryjú do pošvy?…

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Reflections

Hecatombs, noun.

1 : an ancient Greek and Roman sacrifice of 100 oxen or cattle

2 : the sacrifice or slaughter of many victims

From Merriam-Webster.

It was hard for me to get back into this series. I feel a bit more like my Mountains are Burning Again should be in the anti-war category and not nature one. The world is burning and what can we do but watch? Here the bread-fields burn and we ask, will the sword ever find its sheath? I feel saddened having wrote this today.

I took a small liberty (besides dropping the sonnet form altogether), of translating hmyz as ant and not insects. It’s a selfish choice I will admit because I feel it has so much connection with one of my favorite poems, which I love to perform as well:

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Here’s the link to the previous sonnet.

The entire collection can be found here as well.