Classic and Contemporary Poetry
KOSSANCHITCH AND MILOSH, by ANONYMOUS First Line: Milosh speaks to kossanchitch his brother Last Line: "some are lame, and none are in condition" Subject(s): "kossovo, Battle Of;milosh Obilitch (14th Century);serbia;" Servia | ||||||||
Milosh speaks to Kossanchitch his brother: "Ivan Kossanchitch, oh thou dear brother, Hast thou spied upon the Turkish army, Seen how many warriors came from Turkey? Can we offer battle to the army? Can we hope to vanquish it in battle?" Ivan Kossanchitch thus speaks in answer: "Milosh Obilitch, oh thou my brother, I have spied upon the Turkish army And a mighty army came from Turkey. Were we grains of salt instead of warriors Yet we could not salt that army's dinner. Fifteen days through Murad's hordes I wandered But I could not find an end or limit. From Mramór right up to Suvi Javor, And from Jávor right up to Sazliya, From Sazliya to the bridge of Chemer And from Chemer to the fortress Zvechan, And from Zvechan right away to Chechan, And from Chechan up above the mountains Stand the Turks in serried ranks together; Horse to horse, and hero touching hero, Battle-lances like a magic mountain, Like a cloud their battle-standards streaming And their tents stretched like the snow in winter. If the gentle rain should fall from heaven Not one inch of ground could then receive it, So thick stand the horses and the heroes. Murad fell upon the plain of Mazgit, Took by quick assault Lab and Sitnitsa." Then speaks Milosh Obilitch in answer: "Ivan Kossanchitch, oh thou my brother, Where has Sultan Murad pitched his tent there? I have sworn to slay the Sultan Murad And I'll plant my foot upon his false throat." Ivan Kossanchitch thus answers Milosh: "Thou art surely mad, oh thou my brother! There where thickest press the Turkish warriors Stands the tent of mighty Sultan Murad. If thou hadst the swift wings of the falcon And couldst swoop from out the clear blue heavens Still thy swift wings could not save thy body." Then to Ivan swears the hero Milosh: "Ivan Kossanchitch, oh thou dear brother, Not by birth, and yet like my own brother, Do not tell this story to our monarch, It would but disquiet and alarm him And then all the army might be frightened. Speak unto our monarch in this manner: There has come an army out of Turkey Big enough that we should give it battle, But it will be light for us to conquer. It is not an army made of heroes, But old monks and pilgrims dressed as warriors, Artisans are there, and slim young merchants, Those who never yet have seen a battle, But who for their bread have joined the army. Say toobut whatever size the army It has fallen very sick and ailing, And the horses too all greatly suffer, Some are lame, and none are in condition." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BANQUET ON THE EVE OF THE BATTLE; A FRAGMENT by ANONYMOUS THE FALL OF THE SERBIAN EMPIRE by ANONYMOUS THE MAIDEN OF KOSSOVO by ANONYMOUS THE MIRACLE OF THE TSAR LAZAR by ANONYMOUS TIS A LITTLE JOURNEY by ANONYMOUS "'TIS MIDNIGHT, AND THE SETTING SUN" by ANONYMOUS "'TWAS ROLLOG, AND THE MINIM POTES" by ANONYMOUS 1648 : FOR COSSACKS by ANONYMOUS |
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