🌿🏔️❄️ PLANINSKA KUĆICA⛰️🏡 (autorski tekst: Nelly Poerich, lektorisana verzija)

                                                

🌿 PLANINSKA KUĆICA

(autorski tekst: Nelly Poerich, lektorisana verzija)

U malenom selu, na vrhu planine,

stoji skromna kućica od starice Line.

Tu je od rođenja, i čila i smela,

i danas je puna, vedra s potoka je donela.

Obramaču uprtila, ko patka se gega,

ne mari ni malo za nanose snega.

Spazile je patke, gacaju za njom —

utočište pruži, pod ambarom dom.

Od susede Julke odavno ni traga,

po šumi je tražila uvek nekog vraga.

Opasna je šuma, svud opasnost vreba,

kozjim se stazama ispentrati treba.

Al’ Lina je hrabra, još ko dete bila,

sve zakone prirode u prstima svila.

Nigde ona ne ide bez motke i štapa —

malopre se skrila medveđa šapa.

Zavuko se debeljko u jazbinu tesnu,

da prespava zimu, zamalo nosom tresnu!

Da joj nije štapa, obramače vredne,

ne bi mogla proći sve puteve ledne.

Spustila je vedra ispred kuće svoje,

odahnula malo — kad eto ti Stoje!

Kozica bistra meketom je snaži,

vimena nadošla, jare podoj traži.

I kokice dotrčaše, kukuruza hoće,

a malo prase trapelja i grokće.

Krmača se ulenjila, ne mrda iz svinjca,

nasula joj Lina dosta pomijica.

Pevac na stazi o kosu se spleo,

za malo se prosu, za malo prepleo!

Sad oganj pucketa, miris smole grije,

U toj kući mirno srce starice bije,

gde s ljubavlju Duh predaka krije.

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🇬🇧 THE MOUNTAIN COTTAGE

(translated from Serbian, by Nelly Poerich)

In a tiny village, high upon the hill,
stands a humble cottage, peaceful and still.
It’s been there forever — brave old Lina’s home,
where even today, her laughter does roam.

A yoke on her shoulders, she waddles along,
not fearing the snow — her spirit is strong.
The ducks spot their mistress, they waddle behind,
under the granary, a shelter they find.

Old neighbor Julka’s been gone for a while,
she wandered the woods with her restless smile.
The forest is danger, its silence can bite,
through goat paths and shadows — she climbs to the light.

But Lina’s still fearless, as she was a child,
the laws of the mountain she learned, calm and mild.
She carries her staff and her sturdy old pole —
a bear’s paw had just stirred beneath a dark knoll!

That chubby old sleeper crept into his den,
to snore through the winter till springtime again.
If not for her stick and her yoke full of grace,
she’d never have crossed that frozen white space.

She sets down her buckets before her small door,
takes one gentle breath — when who bleats once more?
Her goat, little Stoja, with milk warm and sweet,
feeds her young kid and stomps tiny feet.

Then chickens come running, all hungry and quick,
the piglets are squealing, the floorboards click!
The sow lies in straw, not moving a bit,
Lina brings slop — “Eat well now, my sweet!”

The rooster trips clumsily over the hoe,
nearly spills water, nearly drops snow!

And there, by her hearth, the old lady prays,
as twilight wraps softly the mountain’s haze.

Now the fire crackles, the scent of resin warms,
Within that cottage, her heart gently beats —
where the Spirit of forebears in love still retreats.

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🇸🇪 BERGSTUGAN

(översättning av Nelly Poerichs dikt)

I en liten by på bergets topp,
står en enkel stuga, gammal och tropp.
Där bor Lina, stark och fri,
hon bär sin spann med glatt förbi.

Käppen i handen, hon vaggar smått,
snön yr runt, men hon skrattar gott.
Ankorna följer, de kvackar i led,
hon ger dem skydd, där ladan bred.

Grannen Julka syns ej mer,
hon sökte i skogen sitt gamla begär.
Farligt är berget, stigen är smal,
Lina går trygg, hon känner sitt dal.

Hon bär sin stav, sin gamla tro,
björnens tass var nära, jo!
Men Lina log, så klok, så trygg,
hon gick sin väg, i vinterens bygd.

Hon ställer sina spann framför sitt hus,
och andas lätt i snö och ljus.
Geten Stoja bräker, sin unge ger mat,
och hönsen springer i snabb parat.

Grisen grymtar, tuppen snubblar där,
allt lever, andas — i vinterbär.

Nu sprakar elden, kådans doft värmer,

I stugan slår hjärtat, lugnt som förr,
där kärlek och förfäders anda rör.