Plava Grobnica

Blue Graveyard memorial plaque on the Vido island.

Plava Grobnica, (English: Ode to a Blue Sea Tomb) is an ode written by Serbian poet Milutin Bojić during World War I. It is dedicated to the soldiers that were buried in the sea near Vido island, Greece.

Poem

Serbian Latin

English

Stojte, galije carske! Sputajte krme moćne! Gazite tihim hodom! Opelo gordo držim u doba jeze noćne Nad ovom svetom vodom. Tu na dnu, gde školjke san umoran hvata I na mrtve alge tresetnica pada, Leži groblje hrabrih, leži brat do brata, Prometeji nade, apostoli jada. Zar ne osećate kako more mili, Da ne ruši večni pokoj palih četa? Iz dubokog jaza mirni dremež čili, A umornim letom zrak meseca šeta. To je hram tajanstva i grobnica tužna Za ogromnog mrca, k'o naš um beskrajna. Tiha kao ponoć vrh ostrvlja južna, Mračna kao savest, hladna i očajna. Zar ne osećate iz modrih dubina Da pobožnost raste vrh voda prosuta I vazduhom igra čudna pitomina? To velika duša pokojnika luta Stojte, galije carske! Na grobu braće moje Zavite crnim trube. Stražari u svečanom opelo nek otpoje Tu, gde se vali ljube! Jer proći će mnoga stoleća, k'o pena Što prolazi morem i umre bez znaka, I doći će nova i velika smena, Da dom sjaja stvara na gomili raka. Ali ovo groblje, gde je pogrebena ogromna i strašna tajna epopeje, Kolevka će biti bajke za vremena, Gde će duh da traži svoje korifeje. Sahranjeni tu su nekadašnji venci I prolazna radost celog jednog roda, Zato grob taj leži u talasa senci Izmeđ nedra zemlje i nebesnog svoda. Stojte, galije carske! Buktinje nek utrnu, Veslanje umre hujno, A kad opelo svršim, klizite u noć crnu pobožno i nečujno. Jer hoću da vlada beskrajna tišina I da mrtvi čuju huk borbene lave, Kako vrućim ključem krv penuša njina U deci što klikću pod okriljem slave. Jer, tamo daleko, poprište se zari Ovom istom krvlju što ovde počiva: Ovde iznad oca pokoj gospodari, Tamo iznad sina povesnica biva. Zato hoću mira, da opelo služim bez reči, bez suza i uzdaha mekih, Da miris tamjana i dah praha združim Uz tutnjavu muklu doboša dalekih. Stojte, galije carske! U ime svesne pošte Klizite tihim hodom. Opelo držim, kakvo ne vide nebo jošte Nad ovom svetom vodom!

Hail to you, imperial galleys! Restrain your mighty rudders! Stroke your oars silently! I'm proudly officiating a sublime Requiem in the chill of the night Upon these sacred waters. Here at the bottom, where seashells tire in sleep And upon the dead algae peat falls, Stretch the graves of the brave, couched brother beside brother, Prometheuses of Hope, Apostles of Pain. Don't you feel the wafting sea, That it may not trouble their holy repose? From the deep abyss peaceful slumber ebbs, And in tiring flight the moonlight slowly passes. This is a mysterious temple and a sad graveyard With decaying carcasses, unfathomably real. Silent like the night on the tip of the Ionian Sea Dark as a conscience, cold and despairing. Don't you feel from your most depressing moods That piety grows over this benediction And the air fills with curious gentleness? That great soul of the fallen roams Hail to you, imperial galleys! Upon this tomb my dear kindred ones Veil the trumpets in mourning black. Let your sentry, upright, chant the holy dirge Here, where waves come to an embrace! For the centuries will pass as the white foam vanishes upon the sea without a trace, And a new and great age will come in its place, To create a splendid home upon this grave. But these waters, in which was shrouded the terrible mystery of the Epic, these waters will be a cradle in Time of legends revealed, Where the soul will seek out its Destiny. Buried are here once ancient garlands And the passing joy of more than one generation, That's why this cemetery lies in the shadow of waves Between the bosom of the sea and the vault celestial. Hail to you, imperial galleys! Extinguish the torches, Let the oars come to a blustering rest, And when the Requiem prayers are said, steal away into the dark night inaudibly and with reverential awe. I wish for the eternal silence to rule and for the glorious dead to hear the noise of Battles, And rejoice in our cries of victory, as we cast ourselves beneath the wings of Glory upon the fields vermillion with blood. For, there far away, battles sway With the same blood that emanates from this resting-place: Here above the eye of the resting lords, There before the son's history is made. That's why I seek peace, to officiate a Requiem without words, without tears and quiet sighs, Mingle with the odor of powder, the perfume of incense As we hear resound the far noise of the cannon. Hail to you, imperial galleys! In the name of a conscientious fast Glide lightly upon these sacred waters. A Requiem I'm officiating, one that heavens have yet to see upon these sacred waters! (Translated by Mihajlo M. Petrović)

References